Leaning back, I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to ignore my sore knee. I’d cleaned it last night with the oil my spell had led me to, then again this morning, and it had scabbed over. It didn’t need magic, it just needed time to heal. Coming here had been a waste of my morning. None of what I’d found was helpful. I wasn’t helpful. Ana?s could dig trolls out of collapsed mines, but the best I could come up with was how to put boils on someone’s bum. And I couldn’t even do that to the King, because earth magic didn’t work on full-blooded trolls. And I didn’t exactly have a supply of troll blood on hand, nor did I expect any of them to provide it willingly.
Suddenly, I jerked upright. When Christophe had accused Tristan of using magic to make me love him, Tristan had said that such things were not the magic of trolls. I stared at the grimoires and mentally skimmed through the pages of Anushka’s book. Witches could make you fall in love, heal a wound, or bind you to a place, but their magic always affected the flesh or mind. While a troll could lift a rock, create light, or toss you across the room, they couldn’t make you sick or cause you to fall in love: their magic was primarily tangible.
“Anushka didn’t break the mountain,” I whispered. She had been caught up in the rockslide as much as the trolls, and whatever had driven her to curse the trolls to eternal captivity had happened during the four weeks it took to dig out the city. But what? What had they done to make her turn to such evil? And if she hadn’t broken the mountain, then who had?
élise abruptly appeared, and to my surprise, she sat down heavily across from me.
“What has happened?” I asked, her bowed head filling me with anxiety.
She looked up, eyes glistening. “It’s Tips. He snuck into the mines with one of the day-shift gangs to help them meet quota.” élise squeezed her eyes shut. “He was pinned by a falling rock. The rest of the miners got him out, but his leg was crushed.”
I blanched. “Is he healing?”
Her tears fell faster and faster. “Anyone else would have been, but he’s mostly human. He heals like a human.” She looked up at me. “They don’t think he’s going to make it – and even if he does, he’ll never walk again. The guild will put him in the labyrinth for certain.”
My stomach tightened, and I gripped the edge of the table hard, breathing deeply in an attempt to control my hammering heartbeat. My eyes fixed on the stack of grimoires in front of me, two of which I knew contained spells for healing humans. Spells that I knew would work on half-bloods. “I’m not going to let him die,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“There isn’t anything you can do,” élise sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
There wasn’t anything I should do. Tristan had been right when he said that bravery and wisdom made poor bedfellows. It had been one thing to tell Victoria, but if I helped Tips, everyone would know I was a witch. And the trolls hated witches – they’d been hunting them down for centuries. It would not surprise me in the slightest if some of them demanded I be burned in the streets when they found out, no matter the risk to Tristan. I bit my lip hard. Risking my life meant risking his, but if I did nothing, Tips was a dead man, that much was certain. And I couldn’t quietly stand back and let that happen, even if it was the smart thing to do.
Picking up the two grimoires, I rose to my feet. “What,” I said softly, “would you say if I told you I could help?” I swallowed hard, knowing I wouldn’t be able to turn back once the words were out. “What would you say if I told you I was a witch?”
CHAPTER 34
CéCILE
I kept my hood up and my head down as I made my way from the library towards the Dregs. My light bobbed about in front of me and, unless anyone looked closely, I’d be mistaken for a troll. I was alone – élise had gone in search of the ingredients I needed for the spell, but not before she’d convinced Martin to let us out the small back entrance. I didn’t need my guards following me – the fewer who knew about what I was going to attempt, the better.
Knocking on the door to the miners’ dormitory, I glanced surreptitiously up and down the street, hoping no one would notice my finery and question what a noble woman was doing at the door to a half-blood home. But everyone nearby walked with the hunched shoulders of weariness, too set on their own business to pay me mind. I was still relieved when the door swung open.
“Your Highness!” said the girl who answered, her eyes wide with surprise. She started to curtsey awkwardly, but I held a finger up to my lips and gently pushed her inside. “I’d rather no one know I am here,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “Where is Tips?”
Her face tightened. “This way.”
The smell of blood and sweat assaulted me the second I entered the room, but it was the sight of Tips lying on the bed, face contorted with pain, that made me feel sick to my stomach. The other miners in the room rose to their feet when they saw me, but not before exchanging confused looks with each other.
“Hello, Princess,” Tips said weakly. “I can’t say I expected to see your pretty face again.”
I smiled. “Why would you say such a thing – do you think I am such an inconstant friend?”