“It’s not working,” I said, grabbing Aiden’s shoulders and pinning him to the floor. He fought back with incredible strength, but it was coming at great cost, capillaries in his skin bursting, joints popping, and muscles straining.
“Any more will kill him.” She let the bottle slip through her fingers to smash against the floor.
“Then he’s a dead man,” I said. “His heart will fail under the strain.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
I jumped at the sound of Cécile’s voice, so caught up with Aiden that I hadn’t felt her approach. There was a streak of red across her cheek – an injury that had only just begun to scab over – but otherwise, she seemed fine. Marc stood behind her, face hidden within the shadows of his hood.
“The twins have gone with Sabine to retrieve my moth – Anushka’s – supplies.” She dropped to her knees between Marie and me. “What did he promise?”
“To cede the Isle to my father,” I said. “Among other things.”
Cécile’s brow furrowed, and she tucked a stray curl behind one ear. “This is not his way,” she murmured, but before I could question her meaning, Sabine and the twins rushed in, a large chest floating ahead of them.
“The book,” Cécile ordered, and Victoria plucked the grimoire from the chest and tossed it to her. She flipped swiftly through the pages, then stopped on one, scanning the contents. “This will do.”
“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Marie said, but Cécile ignored her. “Nettle leaf and camphor,” she said.
Victoria frowned, and Sabine elbowed past her, leaning in to the chest and rummaging through the glass bottles. Cécile listed the rest of the ingredients for the spell, then set the book aside and began dropping bits of this and that into a bowl. “I need a stone.”
The twins looked around, then Vincent heaved one of the flagstones out of the floor. “This do?”
She nodded and he set it in front of her. “Fire.”
Sabine handed her a candle, and she muttered, “Sleep,” lit the contents of the bowl on fire, then poured the mixture over the stone. Instead of a chunky mess of plants and bones, the mixture was liquid flame. It hit the stone, then, defying gravity, circled back up to pool in the bottom of the overturned basin. Cécile muttered, “Sleep,” once again, and turned the basin over, revealing what looked like water.
“Cup.”
Victoria handed her a dirty wine glass that had been sitting on the table, and Cécile dunked it into her potion. “Hold him steady.” She looked up then, blue eyes meeting mine, and I saw the uncertainty that I’d been feeling. She didn’t know if it would work.
“What is this supposed to do?” I asked.
“Put him into a deep sleep.” She licked her lips once. Then again.
“We tried that with a tonic,” I said, more for Marie’s benefit than Cécile’s. Better her expectations be low.
“But this is magic,” Cécile said, and then she poured the potion into the lord’s mouth. “Sleep,” she repeated, and all the candles in the room flared bright, then guttered out.
Three balls of troll-light filled the room, none of them mine.
“Is he… dead?” Marie looked like she was about to be sick.
“He’s asleep.” I tilted my head, listening to the slow but steady beat of the other man’s heart. “How long will it last?”
Cécile sighed. “We’ll have to give him more of the potion in a few days. And figure out a way to keep him fed. All this will be for nothing if he starves to death.” Climbing to her feet, she surveyed the room, eyes widening at the bloodstains covering the floor. “What has happened?”
Letting Aiden’s head drop to the floor with a thud, I got to my feet as well. “Compulsion drove him to kill his father.”
She covered her mouth with one hand, and I felt the stab of empathetic grief as she turned to Marie. “My lady, I am so sorry.”
“As you should be.” Marie extracted a handkerchief and wiped the mess from her son’s face. “It’s your fault.”
The retort that formed in my mind died on my lips as Cécile gave a slight shake of her head. She could defend herself, but had chosen not to.
“You’ve a place to keep him?” I didn’t wait for Marie’s nod, before continuing, “Take him there now.” To Vincent, I said, “Make sure no one sees him.”
I waited for my friend to leave with Aiden and Marie before saying more, purposefully refraining from looking Cécile’s direction. I could sense the anticipation on her – that there was something she wanted to tell me or needed to say, but whatever it was could wait. And if she thought otherwise, she could bloody well order me to listen to her, since she clearly had no compunctions against doing so.