“Sometimes,” I whispered, “the truth hurts.”
The King collapsed backwards, Tristan’s magic binding him to the floor and muffling his curses.
“Cécile!” Tristan was at my side in an instant. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “Help Ana?s.”
I watched as he knelt beside her, blood running in bright red streams down the steel sluag spear. “Ana?s?”
She opened her eyes. “Kill him, Tristan. Now, while you have the chance.”
I watched him turn to look at his father. From my position on the bed, I couldn’t see the King, but I could well imagine the fury in his eyes. Cut off from his magic by my spell and physically restrained by Ana?s’s and Tristan’s magic, he was helpless. Yet I doubted he was afraid – for all his faults, cowardice was not one of them.
Tristan drew his sword, examining the sharp steel edge as though he’d never seen it before. “I can’t,” he whispered. “Not like this.”
“He’ll eventually break free, Tristan. You have to do it now,” Ana?s argued, her voice strained. I closed my eyes, her words faint noise in the background of my mind. She was right, but I knew that Tristan wouldn’t be able to kill his father. Not in cold blood while he lay helpless on the floor, no matter how much the King might deserve it.
“Then let me do it!” Ana?s’s words interrupted my thoughts and I opened my eyes.
“No,” Tristan said, his voice resolute. “You will not.”
Ana?s slumped lower against the wall. “I need you to pull the spear out, then. It’s troubling my magic.” Her hand stretched out in front of her, fingers reaching for something invisible.
“You’ll bleed to death,” Tristan argued.
“I’m as good as dead, and if you think otherwise, you’re a blasted idiot.” She smiled, beautiful as ever, despite the gore. “I’ll keep him bound for as long as I can, buy you some time. Now go.”
Tristan remained frozen, face full of indecision.
“I can’t leave you like this,” he said.
“You owe me a good number of favors, Tristan, and I’m calling them in now. Get Cécile out of here, and leave the slate between us wiped clean.”
Tristan nodded slowly. “You’ve never failed me, not once.”
“And I don’t intend to now,” she whispered. “Go, and live.”
I watched in silence as Tristan took hold of the spear haft. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. For not being able to give you what you wanted, for not…” His voice broke. “For not giving you what you gave me.”
“Don’t,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “You deserved better.”
“I love you,” she said, her tears turning the blood on her lips from red to pink.
Tristan’s hands trembled around the spear. “Ana?stromeria,” he said, the name spoken as though it were an invocation. Her pupils dilated, fixing on him with a preternatural intensity.
“No more tears,” he commanded, and her eyes immediately dried. The words he spoke after that were in a language I’d never heard before – one not of this world. But I could tell from his tone they were a valediction – a final farewell between friends. When he finished speaking, Tristan leaned forward and kissed her. When he pulled back, the spear came with him.
The keening wail of pain made me cringe.
“Go,” she gasped. “There isn’t much time.”
Tristan came over to my side. “He knew everything,” I choked out. “I tried to warn you, but…” A racking cough tore through my chest. “He has a witch somewhere in the city.”
Tristan’s eyes flicked over to his father. “He’ll never tell me where. It’s better we leave Trollus now, while we have the chance.”
A small, satisfied little smile rose on the King’s face.
Tristan carefully wrapped my torso in magic to keep my ribs from moving, then scooped me up off the bed, my dying, drugged body limp in his arms. “Thank you,” I whispered to Ana?s as he walked to the broken window.
“I didn’t do it for you,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “Thank you anyway.”
Over Tristan’s shoulder, I saw the King on the ground, held in place by magic. As I suspected, there was no fear in his eyes, but what sent a thrill of terror through my body was the calm thoughtfulness on his face. It made me afraid that despite how things appeared on the surface, the situation had still gone according to his plans.
Tristan stepped out onto the balcony and through the sound barrier. Shouts and screams filled the air.
“I ordered the sympathizers to start the rebellion.”
“I know,” I croaked. “You need to make them stop.”
“Not yet,” he muttered, hurrying over to the wall. “Victoria? Vincent?”
“Here!”
I rose up into the air and felt another set of magic hands catch hold of me, lowering me down until I was in Vincent’s big arms. “Don’t you worry, Cécile,” he said, grinning. “We’ll get you out of here.”
Tristan dropped down next to us and took me back in his arms. “Marc’s waiting?”
They nodded.