“I’m dying,” I whispered. My voice was calm and completely incongruous with the riot of terror and anger in my head. I did not want to die. Only a day ago, it had seemed my future spread ahead of me like a wild, passionate, and unexplored sea, and I was the captain at the helm, eager to see where the winds would take me. I was in love, and I was loved. I’d never felt more alive and happy, and now it was all going to be over. My lower lip trembled and I clenched my teeth to make it stop. It wasn’t fair. Trollus was full of magic – magic capable of doing the impossible, but powerless to help me in this. An angry noise escaped my lips. “It isn’t bloody fair,” I swore. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”
My chest spasmed, and I hissed in pain. “I’m sorry,” I said through clenched teeth. Because that was the worst of it – not only was I going to die, I was going to bring Tristan down with me.
“No,” he said, rising to his feet. “No!” He picked up a decanter and threw it, then backhanded a vase off his desk. I watched in horror as he set to destroying everything fragile in sight.
“Tristan, stop!”
He froze, turning back towards me. A shard of glass had sliced open his cheek and one drop of blood trickled down his skin before the cut sealed over. “There isn’t anyone here with the skill to help you. But somewhere else there is?” He turned. “Could other humans help you?”
“I don’t know. Possibly a surgeon could.” There is always hope, I thought, remembering Pierre’s words. Hope that I might live, and that my future with Tristan wouldn’t be cut short. But my hope was diminishing.
“There are always humans coming and going. They’re always wanting to sell something. Always wanting our gold.” His face set in determination. “One of them will be able to help you.”
Ana?s must have been waiting outside, because she came in right after Tristan left.
“Tristan said he was going to find you a surgeon,” she said, sitting next to the bed. “And medicines to help you heal.”
I said nothing, but something in my eyes must have told her what I was thinking. “They can help you, can’t they?” she pleaded.
I gave a slight shake of my head. “I don’t think so. A witch could, maybe.” But Tips was an all too recent reminder that even witches had their limitations.
“There are no such creatures in Trollus.” Ana?s gripped the sides of her chair so hard the wood creaked. “Except, it turns out, you. The whole city is talking about what you did for that miner.” Her eyes brightened. “If we got you the same materials – couldn’t you heal yourself?”
“No.” I mouthed the word, feeling short of breath. The pain in my side was sharp and internal. “I’m dying.” The words came out silently.
“No!” Ana?s shouted, leaping to her feet. “You can’t die! If you die, he…”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” I said, sucking in a painful breath to make myself clear. “I know what it feels like, Ana?s!”
I started coughing, the pain of the motion so intense it made me dizzy. It was a long time before I could speak again, and Ana?s was forced to lean close in order to hear me. “I need your help, Ana?s. I don’t trust his father, and the twins told me you’re the only other one as powerful as Tristan. You have to keep him alive. I know he did it for Marc, so can’t you do the same for him?”
Her shoulders slumped and my hopes fled. She shook her head. “There is a reason they have ruled us for so long, Cécile. There are none in this world as powerful as the Montigny family – I wouldn’t have a chance of stopping him. Only his father could restrain him, and even then, it would be a struggle.”
I tried to take shallow little breaths, but I could taste blood on my tongue. “Is there no other way?”
Ana?s grimaced. “With iron.”
I frowned.
She hesitated as though the information was a great secret. Perhaps it was, if it were something that could control their magic. “It is a method usually only used to bind prisoners until the time of their execution. Sometimes it’s used as a punishment,” she said. “The troll is physically restrained and iron spikes are driven into the body. The metal interferes with our magic – if enough are used, he might be controllable.”
A shudder ran through me. She’d have to torture him to save him.
“He’d have to agree to it beforehand, though,” she said. “And he won’t.”
I bit my lip. “Is it the only way?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, but glittering tears forced their way through her black lashes. “Except for one thing. He has my true name.”
I squeezed my eyes tight, giving her a slight nod so that she would know that I understood the implications of that knowledge. Tristan had complete control over Ana?s – and in this situation, he would use it.
“The same goes for Marc and the twins,” she said bitterly. “He has the name of anyone we dare ask who is powerful enough to do it.”
But what if I could handicap him enough that a less powerful troll might be able to control him. Could I do it? Did I have the strength?
“There’s a book hidden in the garderobe.”
Frowning, Ana?s went into the side room and came back holding the grimoire. “What is this?”
“Anushka’s grimoire,” I said. “There are spells in here for use against trolls.”
Ana?s recoiled. “Blood magic!”
I nodded and explained the spell that would cut a troll off from his magic.
“Can you make it work?” she asked, eyeing me warily. “Using my blood?”