Winter.
“What do you want?” I demanded, trying to maintain focus. But it was hard, because I was dead and I had not been through with life. There had been so much left to do, and Cécile…
Winter ran one clawed finger down my cheek, and I felt the burning cut of cold. The silver lace of bonding marks covered her knuckles, the back of her hand, her wrist. “It is a cruel thing,” she whispered, “to be tied to the one whom you hate. To battle and war for eternity while knowing you will never see your enemy’s demise, for it would also be your own.”
“That’s not an answer,” I snarled. But the bravado was false, because I could feel myself fading. Soon I would be nothing, and Cécile… Please live, I silently pleaded. Please try.
Amusement filled the fairy queen’s gaze, and she said, “Summer was in the bloom of its power those many millennia ago when He allowed his brother, and his brother’s warriors, to wander in your world unchecked. He was so convinced of his invulnerability with me quelled and chained to his throne that he did not see the danger. But I did. And it was a sweet thing indeed to watch him lose so much out of his own arrogance.”
Her eyes were bright and vicious, and I wanted to tell her to get on with it. To tell me what it was that she wanted, because she would not be wasting her time on this conversation if moments later I’d cease to exist.
“There was a reason no fey of ice and snow were trapped in your miserable world,” she said. “I protect my people. I keep them safe.” Bending over, she kissed my forehead, and it was all I could do not to scream in pain. “And now, Winter is once again in power.”
“What. Do. You. Want.” I said the words between my teeth. Please don’t let me be too late.
“I can send you back.” She sat on her heels, the ice disappearing from my wrists and ankles. “The sluag are mine. Their power is my power. I can bring you back to life.” She licked her lips, her tongue silvery and forked. “For a price.”
I’d give her anything. I knew it. She knew it. “Name it.”
“A life-debt,” she said, rising to her feet and drawing me to mine. “To be called at a time of my choosing.”
If it ever came to pass that she and I stood face to face once more, she could ask anything of me, even to take my own life. But what choice did I have? “Done.”
“And one more thing,” she purred. “You will agree never to speak of what I have told you. To anyone.”
“Fine,” I said, knowing that somehow, I was getting the worst of this bargain. “Now bring me back to life.”
“It will be done.”
And before I could say another word, I fell back into blackness the only sound her voice. “Goodbye, mortal prince. For now.”
“Tristan!”
I blinked, Sabine’s face inches from mine, her eyes wild with panic. “They’re here,” she screamed, and with impressive strength, dragged me towards the stairs.
Up and up we went, then out the door and she was pointing out over the city.
My eyes tracked that direction, and there was no mistaking the cause of her fright. The streets of Trianon were full of troll-lights. Hundreds of them. And they were coming this way.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cécile
“She’s dead.”
The answer fell out of my mouth, and I immediately wished I could take it back and deliver it in a way that wouldn’t cause my sister’s eyes to fill with tears, her chin to tremble. As if there were such a way. Joss had disliked Genevieve, but she’d still been her mother.
“How? Was it the witch? Anushka?”
I swallowed hard. “She was Anushka.”
Silence.
“You killed her.”
“I had to. It wasn’t her. Our real mother was already dead.” I was babbling. None of what I said made any sense, but I couldn’t seem to piece together a sentence that would do what I intended. “It was the only way.”
“To free them?”
“Yes.”
She shoved me, and I landed hard on my bottom.
“You don’t understand,” I said. “Let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” she shouted, blind to the panicked expressions on the others’ faces. “This is your fault. You killed our mother and you set these monsters free to slaughter innocent people. And all for some stupid boy who can’t be bothered to come out from behind his castle walls to undo the damage that he’s caused.”
“Joss–”
“I wish you’d stayed dead,” she spat, then swung onto her horse and galloped up the trail.
Everyone was staring, silent, with hands in pockets or resting on hips.
Chris stepped up next to me. “You can explain what happened when we get back to camp. It’s not safe for us to linger here any longer.”
* * *