“There’s a spell I need cast.” Pulling a scrap of paper from my pocket, I fiddled with the corners.
My gran sniffed. “From what I’ve heard, you’re more than capable of doing your own casting. And more than willing to delve into magics that you shouldn’t.”
“This isn’t anything like that,” I said. “And I need your help because the spell is for me.”
She eyed me up and down. “What is it you need done?”
I’d been thinking about this since I made the decision not to go back to Trianon. Staying was a risk, because of a surety, the Winter Queen would figure out I was here, if she hadn’t already. My name had been used, and she would know these were my family members. My people. I couldn’t trust that Vincent and Victoria would always be there to watch over me.
“I need you to help me forget something,” I said, my heart heavy as I focused on Tristan. Cold. Emotionless. “I need to forget a name.”
* * *
I was staggering on exhausted feet back to the cabin to get some sleep when my sister stepped into my path. “Cécile? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Nodding, I motioned for Vincent to give us a moment, then closed the distance between us. “You look frozen,” I said, taking her hands, which felt like icicles, between mine and squeezing them. Her blonde hair was so coated with frost it appeared white, and her cheeks and nose were cherry red. “Come inside with me to warm up at the fire.”
“In a bit.” Her teeth chattered. “I wanted to say sorry for how I acted. I should’ve heard you out before reacting the way I did.”
“It’s all right,” I said, wrapping my arms around her in an attempt to ward away the chill. “I don’t blame you for being upset. No matter how you look at it, our mother is dead.” My eyes burned. “And I’m so sorry for how you found out.”
Her arms tightened around me. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I don’t see how we can win without help.” Her voice took on a desperate edge. “Why won’t Tristan leave Trianon to fight his brother?”
Stones and sky, but I was too tired for this conversation. I could barely think straight, and I was wary of saying the wrong thing and setting her off again. “He can’t, Joss. At least, not yet.”
“Can’t you make him?”
How did she know about that? I rubbed one temple. Chris must have told her.
“Not anymore,” I said. “I had Gran do a spell on me earlier – his name is gone from my mind forever.” I hope you heard that, I silently told the Winter Queen. Good luck getting it out of me now.
“I see.” Joss took a step back, her eyes fixed on her feet. “I’m going to leave in the morning to join the rest of the Hollow folk. I… I don’t have the stomach for this.”
Her words surprised me, because the last thing my sister was, was a coward. But in truth, keeping her away from the fighting would be an immense relief, so I didn’t argue. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” Her smile was strained. “I’ll say goodbye before I leave in the morning.”
* * *
A gentle hand shook me awake. “What time is it?” I asked, trying to get my bearings in the windowless cabin. I’d been ordered off to bed after I’d started dropping off mid-sentence, and I’d slept curled up next to my gran on the floor. She’d been asleep when I arrived, so I hadn’t a chance to thank her for speaking to Joss on my behalf. My back ached, but I felt alert. Ready.
“An hour or so before dawn.” Victoria faintly illuminated the room, then pressed a bowl of porridge into my hands. “Eat this. It’s dreadfully bland, but it appears no one thought to pack sugar. Or raisins. A life without raisins is barely a life at all.”
Laughing softly so as not to disturb those still sleeping in the cabin, I followed her outside, spooning the hot oats into my mouth as we walked. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll show you.” Bending low, she went inside the other cabin.
Chris broke off his conversation with Vincent and nodded at me, but my eyes were all for the magical miniature town suspended above the cold firepit at the center of the room. “What is this?”
“A map, of sorts.” My father handed me a tin cup of weak tea. “Jér?me and I have been working with the, uh, Baron Vincent to construct a replica of Revigny and its surroundings.”
“It’s only Lord Vincent at the moment,” Vincent replied. “But I hope to rectify that shortly.”
My father frowned, then shrugged. “It’s been a world of help with planning, given that not everyone has ventured so far out of the Hollow. Chris?”
“Right.” My friend cleared his throat, and I watched how the eyes of everyone in the room went to him. He was, I realized, their leader.
“We received word from our scouts that Roland and Lessa took control of Triaucourt in the night,” he said. “If he holds to his pattern – and I think he will – they’ll remain under cover, taking oaths from those his militiamen round up, and then move on again tonight.”