Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)

My brother’s eyes widened, and it occurred to me that he really hadn’t seen the scope of a troll’s power. “Right,” he said, then looked away and scratched his chin, giving away his discomfort. “Lady Victoria explained your predicament. I think if we tell those in Trianon that you must remain in the city to keep it protected that none of them will protest too heartily about you not venturing out. For now, anyway.”


“It’s not far from the truth,” Tristan said, eyes going to fires in the distance. “His power has grown.”

Doubt twisted my guts, and I knew it was doing the same to Tristan’s. Roland was testing his powers, seeing how far he could push them now that he was freed of the confines of Trollus. And for the first time ever, I wondered who the most powerful troll on the Isle really was.





Chapter Twelve





Tristan





Dawn came far too soon.

While Cécile disappeared to check on Aiden, I spent the first hours of the morning listening to the tallies of soldiers, arms, and supplies. To strategies put forth by men who had no real concept of what they were facing. Even with my little demonstration, the idea that Roland could stand in the face of an army’s worth of artillery and laugh was inconceivable to them. And though the Regent’s council remained uneasy in my and Victoria’s presence, it didn’t take long for them to start talking over us. Fred they included in the conversation – given Aiden was only a ceremony away from becoming Regent – but the volume of his voice suggested he was no less frustrated.

“They really are quite dense,” Victoria said, sliding her chair back a couple paces and settling her booted heels on the table with a thud. Several of the men shot her appalled glances, but she ignored them. “Maybe we should have sent them down to watch Marc push boats out to sea.”

“I believe they are called ships,” I said, the conversation around us stalling, just as she had intended.

“Semantics,” she declared, and began pruning her fingernails with a razor sharp filament of magic. When all twelve pairs of eyes at the table were on her, she asked, “Are you lot of armchair generals ready to listen or must I sit through another hour of your abysmal strategies?”

Eyes bulged and jaws twitched, but before anyone could speak, the door opened and Marc came in, an out-of-breath man trailing at his heels. “First ships have returned,” my cousin said. “But not all of them will make it back.” He nudged the man. “Tell them.”

The sailor peered up at Marc, trying to get a glimpse within the depths of his hood, then seemed to think better of it. “We went up the coast, but kept lights out and silence on the deck as she directed,” he nodded at Victoria. “There’s some coastal villages that seem untouched – could see folk moving about with torches and lanterns – but others…” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’re nothing but glowing pits of char.”

The councilmen broke out in exclamations of dismay, but I held up a hand to silence them. “How many?”

“Four, by my count.”

“And how far down the coast has he reached?” I gestured to the map on the table, watching as he tapped a finger against a hamlet located on the Ocean Road. “This is where we saw him.”

“Not that far from Trollus,” I muttered to Victoria.

She nodded, tapping her bottom lip. “They could be much further if all they cared about is destruction.”

The look in her eyes told me we were thinking the same thing: that just as Cécile had said, Roland was taking oaths of loyalty from those who surrendered. What he might choose to do with those oaths made my stomach clench. Then the sailor’s words finally settled. “You saw him?”

The sailor nodded, face pale. “Was hard to make out anything in the dark, so we stayed until dawn, but retreated away from the coast so we needed a scope to see.” He blew out a long breath. “Came down onto the beach, and he was just a boy. Just a boy.”

How many times had the same sentiment stayed my hand?

“He waded in – didn’t seem to care a wit about the cold – and then he started splashing his hands in the water like a child. Laughing like a child. But the ocean moved.”

“It does that, I hear,” Victoria said, but there was little levity in her voice.

“It was like a giant was playing in the water. Or a god. All my life has been spent at sea, and I’ve never experienced waves like that.”

There was nothing heavier than the ocean. A bead of sweat ran down my spine.

“Then the ship closest to the coast disappeared under the surface, only to reappear and be plunged down again.” His eyes went distant. “Like a toy in a bathtub. But the men were screaming…” He shook his head sharply to dispel the memory. “Thought we were all done for, but an ice fog came in fast and no one could see more than a few feet either way. Not even him.”

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