Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)

“Do you have something?”


“I’ve a sleeping draught in my chambers,” Marie answered, but she didn’t move.

“Go get it,” I snapped. “And Fred, linger in the corridor and keep everyone out. The last thing we need is an interruption.”

Both leapt into action, leaving me alone with the ailing lord. I watched his labored breathing for a long moment before asking, “Is there anything of you left in there, Aiden du Chastelier?”

There was power in a name – even in a human one, and he slowly turned his head, some level of sanity returning to his gaze. “Yes.”

“Good.” I sat back on my heels. “If you endeavor to hold on to that, I’ll endeavor to see you freed of this foolish promise you made.”

“Do I have your word on that, Your Highness?” He cackled softly, throat convulsing.

“No.” I tilted my head, listening to the frantic beat of his heart. “I’ve made a few foolish promises of my own of late, and I’m finding them quite taxing.”

“Wise.” He rested his forehead against the stone. “I was young. I didn’t know what I was doing when I made those promises to your father.”

“I’m not interested in your excuses,” I said, wishing Marie would hurry up. “And blaming one’s poor choices on youth is a derivative excuse most often employed by the old.”

“Not excuses,” he said. “Just an explanation. And I might never have another chance to voice it.”

Talking seemed to have improved his lucidity, if nothing else, so I shrugged. “Confess away.”

“I promised to cede the Isle to him peaceably should the trolls ever be freed of the curse.”

“I’d gathered that much,” I said, then bit my tongue to keep any further sarcasm from passing my lips. “Why?”

“I was young. Foolish. Desperate. And the curse had held for centuries, so what were the chances of my debt being called?” He twitched against the magic binding his wrists. “And I didn’t realize what giving my word to him really meant.”

“You mean you didn’t think you’d have to keep it,” I said, not bothering to keep the sourness from my tone. “What did he give you in return?”

“Gold.” His color was high, but no longer from madness, I thought. It was shame. “I’d been running wild. Gambling, drinking, women – and my father did not approve. He cut me off completely. I was angry, and I knew… I knew bargains could be made under the mountain. Your father met with me personally. Feasted me and plied me with wine and listened to me complain about my father. Then he offered to pay my debts, and all he asked was for my word to come back and visit him again.”

I winced, knowing full well that my father could be jovial and charming when he was inclined. It was in those moments one should worry most.

“I paid my debts, but went straight back to the same behavior. When my creditors came calling, I returned again to Trollus and he offered me the same bargain.”

“And on the third time?” It is always threes.

“He told me that he would provide an endless supply of gold, but in exchange, he wanted my word that I’d cede control of the Isle should he ever be freed. My word that I’d always come when he called me. That I’d do his bidding.” Aiden’s hands flexed as though they wanted to make fists but couldn’t. “I thought he was the fool, gambling so much wealth on a hope with less substance than smoke on the wind. I… I didn’t realize it would be binding.”

“You were wrong.” The greedy ones were always the easiest to catch.

“Do you think I haven’t learned that lesson a thousand times since?” His eyes went to the bloodstain on the floor that had been hastily wiped up. “I would have put a bullet in my skull months ago, but…” A shudder ran through him, his desire to end his own life running counter to my father’s orders. He began to thrash as Marie came back into the room, and I swore as blood ran from the corners of his mouth.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded, clutching at the vial in her hand.

I ignored her accusation and pried Aiden’s jaw open, wedging magic between his teeth to keep him from biting off his tongue entirely. “Whatever it is you have, give it to him now!”

Her hands shook as she measured drops into his bloody mouth. He gurgled and hissed, trying to spit it back at her, but I pinched his nose until he had to swallow. “How long will it take to work?” I asked.

“Moments.” A bead of sweat dribbled down her cheek.

Moments passed with no results, and his heart labored to keep its frantic pace. “Give him more.”

She spilled more of the tonic than she got in his mouth while he swore and screamed that he’d maim and kill us both for thwarting him.

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