Stolen Songbird: Malediction Trilogy Book One (The Malediction Trilogy)

“What’s going on?” Victoria shouted, the chair she’d been sitting on clattering to the ground.

Snatching the water-soaked package out of the basin, I shoved it in my pocket and spun around. “Nothing,” I said, wishing for a moment I could be truthful to my friend. “I just remembered where to look. In the laundry room.”

Victoria tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips. “And when, precisely, was the last time you visited the laundry?”

Never. I grimaced. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of course I do,” Victoria replied. “But I’m not going to show you until you tell me the truth about whatever it is you’re lying about.”

I wiped my hands on my skirts and stared at the floor. Tristan had told me to keep my magic a secret – that it would be dangerous for anyone to discover I was a witch. But this was Victoria, and I couldn’t imagine a circumstance where my friend would ever try to harm me. It was Tristan who never trusted anyone, not me. For me, it was second nature to have faith in my friends – to believe they’d do right by me no matter what. And maybe that was stupid. But I didn’t want to live in a world where I couldn’t trust those closest to me. “I did a spell,” I said, handing her my water-soaked package. “It told me where to look.”

“So, you’re a witch?”

“Yes.” I hazarded a glance up to see how she was reacting. Victoria had a smile on her face.

“Well,” she said, pausing for a long, dramatic moment. “There are worse things to be – things that rhyme with witch. And at least you aren’t one of those.”

A wave of relief passed over me. “I certainly hope not.”

She slung an arm around me, squeezing me so tight I wheezed for breath. “Rhyming is as good as alliteration, you know. Possibly better. Now let’s go find what you’re looking for.”





CHAPTER 33


CéCILE



The next morning, I set out to see if I could learn anything more about the nature of human magic. As much as I’d been successful the night before in lifting the memory from élise’s mind, I didn’t understand anything about what I was doing.

Trollus was a mess. Broken glass and pieces of rock littered the streets, and enormous waves from the ocean had pushed the river back, causing its banks to flood. Trolls were busy at work trying to clean everything up, but it would be a long time before the beautiful city was back to its usual glory.

With élise at my side, I headed to the library. I hoped that Martin would be there, because I would be at a loss to find anything in the massive building.

“Oh dear,” I said, looking around with dismay. There were books everywhere.

“My lady!” Martin came around the corner, an armload of books floating behind him.

“I came to see if you had any other… er, grimoires,” I said, casting a backwards glance at élise. The girl was already asking one of the other librarians if she could help. “But I can see that you are rather busy.”

“Not at all, my lady. I had set some aside for you, but I haven’t had a chance to send them over. My apologies. I’ll go get them for you straight away.” He bowed to me, but I noticed his eyes were on élise.

“You’ll keep her occupied while I read?” I asked, trying not to grin.

“Certainly, my lady. Miss élise is always a pleasant conversationalist.”

The corners of my lips twisted up despite my best effort. élise was as quiet as a mouse, but perhaps that made her well suited for a librarian. Mostly, I was pleased to see that Martin was willing to overlook the fact she was half-human. I settled down at a table and picked up the first of the three books. It was almost entirely dedicated to love potions, the prevention of pregnancy, and predicting the weather. The second and third were focused on healing remedies and magic, but they were all clear that healing could not be done on oneself. So much for that idea.

None of them used blood or sacrifice, and none of them mentioned curses. And much like Anushka’s grimoire, none of them explained why certain elements and plants worked better for certain types of spells. The only truly interesting thing the books taught me was that witch magic was passed down from generation to generation, but only manifested itself in women. Ability and strength varied between women, and many lived their whole lives never knowing they possessed the power. Which was certainly the case in my family.

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