Stolen Songbird
Page 47
“No.”
“You aren’t making this any easier for me by saying that,” I said, my fingers clutching at his shirt. My voice cracked, and a sob racked my body with pain.
“It is the truth.” I could hear his heart thundering against my ear, feel his misery and fear. “I should have made you go when I had the chance.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make.” I kissed him hard, clinging to him with what little strength I had left. “I would never choose to leave you.”
“Isn’t that what dying means?” Bitterness echoed through me. “Leaving?”
“But not by choice.” I tried to breathe and calm myself – to bury my sorrow beneath my desire to ensure Tristan remained alive. It was the last thing I had any control over, and I clung to it like a shipwrecked sailor to the debris of his vessel.
“Does it make a difference, if the result is the same? I’m going to save you,” he muttered. “No matter what the cost.”
He gestured to Jérôme. “Give her something for the pain.” Then he motioned to Anaïs and Christophe, who both followed him across the room, their words cloaked by magic.
Jérôme stirred a mixture of herbs into some water. Lifting my head with one hand, he poured the liquid into my mouth. It tasted foul, and I struggled to swallow it back. “This will help you rest easy.”
“What are they talking about?” I asked, my eyes fixed on Tristan. He was writing something on a piece of paper.
“I don’t know,” Jérôme said. “I’ll leave these herbs for you. Take as much as you need to numb the pain.” His eyes met mine. “Take them all when you feel you cannot bear it any longer.”
My attention flickered back to Tristan. He handed Chris a folded and sealed letter, which Chris tucked into the pocket of his coat. They both wore grave expressions. Chris nodded at whatever Tristan was saying, and to my astonishment, they clasped each other’s shoulders. Tristan turned to Anaïs, and I watched them silently argue, she shaking her head while he gestured wildly. Eventually she nodded, and Tristan came back over to the bed.
“We are going to take you out of Trollus,” he said. “We cannot get anyone here to help you in time, but I believe we can smuggle you out.”
“You can’t send me away!” Hot tears filled my eyes, making Tristan’s image blur. Everything was blurry. Jérôme’s medicine was taking its effect, making both my mind and body numb. “You can’t, you can’t,” I repeated, searching for words to convey what I was feeling.
“He’s going to come with you, Cécile,” Chris said. “You don’t need to worry. We’ve found a way that he can leave.”
“What? How?” Exhaustion crept over me like a blanket of fog, my eyelids drooping. Neither Chris or Jérôme answered as they walked quickly from the room.
“Don’t worry about how,” Tristan whispered in my ear, his breath warm. “Just know that I would never choose to leave you. Rest now – we leave tonight.”
In a haze, I watched Tristan walk swiftly to the curtains. Bending down, he tore open the stitching and extracted the papers I had carefully sewn in. All this time I had assumed he’d moved them to some secret place.
He tucked the plans into his coat and, without a backward glance, hurried from the room.
CHAPTER 36
TRISTAN
I walked swiftly through the streets of Trollus, but in truth, it took every ounce of control not to run. I could not risk showing the urgency of my situation – my desperation – or they wouldn’t give me what I needed.
The city was dusty and littered with debris, and the faces of those tasked with the cleanup were equally filthy and exhausted. But that didn’t stop them from noticing my signal when I paused to light the lamps that marked the outskirts of the Dregs. Several of them stopped their tasks and walked briskly in opposite directions. It would not take them long to convene those I needed.
But first I needed to take care of those who were following me.
I wandered slowly through the Dregs for a good quarter hour, pretending to examine the damage my brother had done, before deciding I had given everyone enough time. Turning a corner sharply, I stepped into a doorway and waited. Moments later, I heard the steps of Angoulême’s men scraping across the stones. I coughed as they passed and tipped my hat as they turned. “I need a bit more privacy than usual today,” I said, and immediately trussed them up with magic, depositing them in the house behind me.
It took me only a few minutes more to reach the familiar tavern. “My lord,” the proprietor said, bowing low before bolting the doors behind me. “How is the Princess?”
“She will be fine,” I said. She would be – I just needed to get her out of Trollus to someone who could help.
“That is good news,” the man said, smiling. “We owe her for what she did today.”
Yes, they did.
“Is everyone here?” I asked, walking towards the stairs.
“They are.”
“Good. Keep watch.”
I started speaking as soon as I entered the room – there was no time to spare. “Thank you all for coming,” I said. “I am gravely sorry for the actions my brother took today. I see now that he is a menace that will soon grow out of the bounds of control, and it is my intention to deal with him in a permanent fashion as soon as it is expedient to do so.”
They all stared at me silently, showing no reaction to my declaration, so I continued. “But that is not why I am here. As you all well know, the curse remains in effect. No one with troll blood in his veins may pass the boundaries of Trollus. Yesterday was a demonstration of our most immediate and urgent peril – the thousands of tons of rock balanced above our heads with magic. Montigny magic. Without our power, our skill¸ Trollus and all its inhabitants would be doomed.” I was at the front of the room now. Slowly I turned around and stared down the dingy cellar full of half-bloods. “And it is this unfortunate truth that has always been the limiting factor in your cause. You. Need. Us.”
Their faces darkened and the room filled with angry whispers. “A truth we hardly need reminding of!” someone shouted, “You promised a solution!” yelled another voice.
“Indeed I did,” I said. “And I am meeting with you today to offer you that solution.” Slowly, I withdrew the plans from my coat. “These documents contain detailed plans for the construction of a physical structure that would eliminate the need for the tree. It would eliminate your need for us.”
Silence.
“I will build this structure for you, but it will have a cost.”
“We’ve already promised safety for those on your list,” the half-blood called Tips snarled. His pant leg was knotted below the knee, and he had an arm slung around one of his friends for support. He was the reason Cécile had been in the Dregs – he owed her. “What more do you want?”
I hesitated. They knew she’d been injured, but not how badly. If any of them knew the dire straits Cécile was in, no one would agree to my proposition. But it was the only chance I had. “You did not promise my safety,” I said. “Understand, by leading this revolution – by building this structure – I will be gaining many powerful enemies. If it were only my life I were risking…” I stared down at my carefully constructed diagrams – the result of years of research. “But circumstances have changed. If my life is in jeopardy, so is that of the Lady Cécile. And that, sirs, renders our prior agreement unacceptable in my eyes. I need assurance that she will at least be safe amongst you and yours.”
“That girl saved my life today,” Tips said. “Saved the lives of countless half-bloods by going up against that devil of a creature you call a brother. Do you think there is anyone here that would lift a finger against her?”
I wasn’t concerned about any of them harming her – what I was concerned about was whether they’d risk their own necks to save her. I did not trust them enough to take the chance.
“That’s your price then,” Tips said, his hand balling into a fist. “To put your life and Cécile’s on the list of untouchables in exchange for some papers. To ensure her safety amongst your comrades?” I did not miss his emphasis on the final word. He shook his head angrily.
“No,” I said. “I want something else from you.”
My gloved fingers contracted slightly around the roll of paper, and in my mind’s eye, I visualized the blackening bonding marks tracing across my skin. I had to save her. There was no cost too high.
“In exchange for these documents and my promise to do everything in my power to ensure their construction, I want the true name of every half-blood in Trollus.” I would have asked for the name of every known sympathizer, but I didn’t have that kind of leverage over those of full blood. The half-bloods would have to do.
Silence.
“You would have complete control of us,” Tips finally said. “More control than even your father has now.”
I tilted my head to one side as though considering his words. “I promise never to use your names except in the defense of Cécile. And you have my word that I will never reveal any of them – not even on pain of death.”
They began to exchange weighted looks with one another. “We need time to decide,” Tips said.
“Decide now,” I snapped. “Or any chance of you ever having freedom will go up in smoke.” White-hot flames rose from my outstretched palm, and I held the plans above them, watching as the edges began to singe.
Groans of dismay filled the air. I was playing off lifetimes’ worth of desperation, offering what they wanted more than anything in the world in exchange for the one thing no troll gave up lightly. The question was, once I had the names, would they be enough?
CHAPTER 37
CéCILE
The next several hours passed in a haze of semi-consciousness. I was aware of Anaïs’s presence, of Tristan’s aunt ordering that I be cleaned up so that I might die with dignity, of my maids holding my body rigid with magic while they laced me into an elaborate evening gown, and of the weight of the jewels they fastened to my ears, wrists, and throat.
Of the King arriving, a liveried Lessa trailing at his heels.
“Leave us,” he barked. Zoé and Élise dashed from the room, but Anaïs remained. “I won’t let you hurt her,” she said, her shoulders set.
“If that was what I intended,” he said, “do you think you could stop me?”
“Then I’m going to go get Tristan,” she said, and bolted from the room.
The King waited until the door slammed shut behind her and said, “Please do, Anaïs. Please do.” Then he jerked his chin at Lessa. “Follow her.” A faint smile rose to her lips as she hurried off.
I watched, frozen, as the King came across the room towards me.
“Do not look so afraid, Cécile. Right now you are more useful to me alive than dead.” He smiled. “I have a witch-woman waiting to heal you once Tristan makes his move.”
What was he talking about? My sluggish mind tried to puzzle out the meaning of his words. If he had someone here who could heal me, what was he waiting for? Alarm bells went off in my head.
“He never made mistakes before you arrived,” the King mused, the bed groaning as he settled his bulk on the edge. “Now he behaves rashly, making decisions based on emotion rather than logic. Which has served my purposes, but is not a good quality in a future king. He will learn much from suffering the consequences.”
“You’ve been manipulating him,” I said, my words sticky and thick on my tongue. “If you knew he plotted against you, why didn’t you stop him? Why did you let it go so far?”
“I’ve been training him,” the King clarified. “This plot will fail, but he will soon begin afresh. Perhaps he will fail again. And again. But one day, he will wrench the crown from my cold dead hands and, by then, he will be the man he needs to be to rule Trollus. Not a sentimental, idealistic boy.”
The loud clamor of the bells signaling the beginning of curfew sounded, echoing through the room.
He sighed. “You see Cécile, as a child, Tristan was entranced by humanity.” He twisted a golden ring around one thick finger. “He was constantly sneaking out of the palace to go see the human traders in the market; was always pestering them with questions and playing with their animals. As he grew older, his minders constantly found him at the end of the River Road, staring at the world beyond. He had no interest in politics or in the concerns of our people, and it grew increasing clear to me that his sympathies lay contrary to my own. But no matter how hard I tried to bring him to heel, he would not bend. He was too secure in his position as my sole heir.”
“So you had another child to replace him?” I whispered.
The King shook his head. “Only to threaten his position. But do you know what he said when his brother was born?”
I shook my head.
“That he was glad to have a brother because now he wouldn’t have to be king.” The memory brought fury to his face. “As if being a king were a choice! So as punishment, I made him watch as I tore one of his favorite humans, a charming little old man, to pieces. I told him that if I ever caught him associating with the traders again, I would kill whoever it was. And he wept, but by the very next day, he had begun his pursuit of the crown.”
The door opened and a troll I did not recognize hurried inside. “Your Majesty, the half-bloods are rioting in the streets,” he gasped.
“You aren’t making this any easier for me by saying that,” I said, my fingers clutching at his shirt. My voice cracked, and a sob racked my body with pain.
“It is the truth.” I could hear his heart thundering against my ear, feel his misery and fear. “I should have made you go when I had the chance.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make.” I kissed him hard, clinging to him with what little strength I had left. “I would never choose to leave you.”
“Isn’t that what dying means?” Bitterness echoed through me. “Leaving?”
“But not by choice.” I tried to breathe and calm myself – to bury my sorrow beneath my desire to ensure Tristan remained alive. It was the last thing I had any control over, and I clung to it like a shipwrecked sailor to the debris of his vessel.
“Does it make a difference, if the result is the same? I’m going to save you,” he muttered. “No matter what the cost.”
He gestured to Jérôme. “Give her something for the pain.” Then he motioned to Anaïs and Christophe, who both followed him across the room, their words cloaked by magic.
Jérôme stirred a mixture of herbs into some water. Lifting my head with one hand, he poured the liquid into my mouth. It tasted foul, and I struggled to swallow it back. “This will help you rest easy.”
“What are they talking about?” I asked, my eyes fixed on Tristan. He was writing something on a piece of paper.
“I don’t know,” Jérôme said. “I’ll leave these herbs for you. Take as much as you need to numb the pain.” His eyes met mine. “Take them all when you feel you cannot bear it any longer.”
My attention flickered back to Tristan. He handed Chris a folded and sealed letter, which Chris tucked into the pocket of his coat. They both wore grave expressions. Chris nodded at whatever Tristan was saying, and to my astonishment, they clasped each other’s shoulders. Tristan turned to Anaïs, and I watched them silently argue, she shaking her head while he gestured wildly. Eventually she nodded, and Tristan came back over to the bed.
“We are going to take you out of Trollus,” he said. “We cannot get anyone here to help you in time, but I believe we can smuggle you out.”
“You can’t send me away!” Hot tears filled my eyes, making Tristan’s image blur. Everything was blurry. Jérôme’s medicine was taking its effect, making both my mind and body numb. “You can’t, you can’t,” I repeated, searching for words to convey what I was feeling.
“He’s going to come with you, Cécile,” Chris said. “You don’t need to worry. We’ve found a way that he can leave.”
“What? How?” Exhaustion crept over me like a blanket of fog, my eyelids drooping. Neither Chris or Jérôme answered as they walked quickly from the room.
“Don’t worry about how,” Tristan whispered in my ear, his breath warm. “Just know that I would never choose to leave you. Rest now – we leave tonight.”
In a haze, I watched Tristan walk swiftly to the curtains. Bending down, he tore open the stitching and extracted the papers I had carefully sewn in. All this time I had assumed he’d moved them to some secret place.
He tucked the plans into his coat and, without a backward glance, hurried from the room.
CHAPTER 36
TRISTAN
I walked swiftly through the streets of Trollus, but in truth, it took every ounce of control not to run. I could not risk showing the urgency of my situation – my desperation – or they wouldn’t give me what I needed.
The city was dusty and littered with debris, and the faces of those tasked with the cleanup were equally filthy and exhausted. But that didn’t stop them from noticing my signal when I paused to light the lamps that marked the outskirts of the Dregs. Several of them stopped their tasks and walked briskly in opposite directions. It would not take them long to convene those I needed.
But first I needed to take care of those who were following me.
I wandered slowly through the Dregs for a good quarter hour, pretending to examine the damage my brother had done, before deciding I had given everyone enough time. Turning a corner sharply, I stepped into a doorway and waited. Moments later, I heard the steps of Angoulême’s men scraping across the stones. I coughed as they passed and tipped my hat as they turned. “I need a bit more privacy than usual today,” I said, and immediately trussed them up with magic, depositing them in the house behind me.
It took me only a few minutes more to reach the familiar tavern. “My lord,” the proprietor said, bowing low before bolting the doors behind me. “How is the Princess?”
“She will be fine,” I said. She would be – I just needed to get her out of Trollus to someone who could help.
“That is good news,” the man said, smiling. “We owe her for what she did today.”
Yes, they did.
“Is everyone here?” I asked, walking towards the stairs.
“They are.”
“Good. Keep watch.”
I started speaking as soon as I entered the room – there was no time to spare. “Thank you all for coming,” I said. “I am gravely sorry for the actions my brother took today. I see now that he is a menace that will soon grow out of the bounds of control, and it is my intention to deal with him in a permanent fashion as soon as it is expedient to do so.”
They all stared at me silently, showing no reaction to my declaration, so I continued. “But that is not why I am here. As you all well know, the curse remains in effect. No one with troll blood in his veins may pass the boundaries of Trollus. Yesterday was a demonstration of our most immediate and urgent peril – the thousands of tons of rock balanced above our heads with magic. Montigny magic. Without our power, our skill¸ Trollus and all its inhabitants would be doomed.” I was at the front of the room now. Slowly I turned around and stared down the dingy cellar full of half-bloods. “And it is this unfortunate truth that has always been the limiting factor in your cause. You. Need. Us.”
Their faces darkened and the room filled with angry whispers. “A truth we hardly need reminding of!” someone shouted, “You promised a solution!” yelled another voice.
“Indeed I did,” I said. “And I am meeting with you today to offer you that solution.” Slowly, I withdrew the plans from my coat. “These documents contain detailed plans for the construction of a physical structure that would eliminate the need for the tree. It would eliminate your need for us.”
Silence.
“I will build this structure for you, but it will have a cost.”
“We’ve already promised safety for those on your list,” the half-blood called Tips snarled. His pant leg was knotted below the knee, and he had an arm slung around one of his friends for support. He was the reason Cécile had been in the Dregs – he owed her. “What more do you want?”
I hesitated. They knew she’d been injured, but not how badly. If any of them knew the dire straits Cécile was in, no one would agree to my proposition. But it was the only chance I had. “You did not promise my safety,” I said. “Understand, by leading this revolution – by building this structure – I will be gaining many powerful enemies. If it were only my life I were risking…” I stared down at my carefully constructed diagrams – the result of years of research. “But circumstances have changed. If my life is in jeopardy, so is that of the Lady Cécile. And that, sirs, renders our prior agreement unacceptable in my eyes. I need assurance that she will at least be safe amongst you and yours.”
“That girl saved my life today,” Tips said. “Saved the lives of countless half-bloods by going up against that devil of a creature you call a brother. Do you think there is anyone here that would lift a finger against her?”
I wasn’t concerned about any of them harming her – what I was concerned about was whether they’d risk their own necks to save her. I did not trust them enough to take the chance.
“That’s your price then,” Tips said, his hand balling into a fist. “To put your life and Cécile’s on the list of untouchables in exchange for some papers. To ensure her safety amongst your comrades?” I did not miss his emphasis on the final word. He shook his head angrily.
“No,” I said. “I want something else from you.”
My gloved fingers contracted slightly around the roll of paper, and in my mind’s eye, I visualized the blackening bonding marks tracing across my skin. I had to save her. There was no cost too high.
“In exchange for these documents and my promise to do everything in my power to ensure their construction, I want the true name of every half-blood in Trollus.” I would have asked for the name of every known sympathizer, but I didn’t have that kind of leverage over those of full blood. The half-bloods would have to do.
Silence.
“You would have complete control of us,” Tips finally said. “More control than even your father has now.”
I tilted my head to one side as though considering his words. “I promise never to use your names except in the defense of Cécile. And you have my word that I will never reveal any of them – not even on pain of death.”
They began to exchange weighted looks with one another. “We need time to decide,” Tips said.
“Decide now,” I snapped. “Or any chance of you ever having freedom will go up in smoke.” White-hot flames rose from my outstretched palm, and I held the plans above them, watching as the edges began to singe.
Groans of dismay filled the air. I was playing off lifetimes’ worth of desperation, offering what they wanted more than anything in the world in exchange for the one thing no troll gave up lightly. The question was, once I had the names, would they be enough?
CHAPTER 37
CéCILE
The next several hours passed in a haze of semi-consciousness. I was aware of Anaïs’s presence, of Tristan’s aunt ordering that I be cleaned up so that I might die with dignity, of my maids holding my body rigid with magic while they laced me into an elaborate evening gown, and of the weight of the jewels they fastened to my ears, wrists, and throat.
Of the King arriving, a liveried Lessa trailing at his heels.
“Leave us,” he barked. Zoé and Élise dashed from the room, but Anaïs remained. “I won’t let you hurt her,” she said, her shoulders set.
“If that was what I intended,” he said, “do you think you could stop me?”
“Then I’m going to go get Tristan,” she said, and bolted from the room.
The King waited until the door slammed shut behind her and said, “Please do, Anaïs. Please do.” Then he jerked his chin at Lessa. “Follow her.” A faint smile rose to her lips as she hurried off.
I watched, frozen, as the King came across the room towards me.
“Do not look so afraid, Cécile. Right now you are more useful to me alive than dead.” He smiled. “I have a witch-woman waiting to heal you once Tristan makes his move.”
What was he talking about? My sluggish mind tried to puzzle out the meaning of his words. If he had someone here who could heal me, what was he waiting for? Alarm bells went off in my head.
“He never made mistakes before you arrived,” the King mused, the bed groaning as he settled his bulk on the edge. “Now he behaves rashly, making decisions based on emotion rather than logic. Which has served my purposes, but is not a good quality in a future king. He will learn much from suffering the consequences.”
“You’ve been manipulating him,” I said, my words sticky and thick on my tongue. “If you knew he plotted against you, why didn’t you stop him? Why did you let it go so far?”
“I’ve been training him,” the King clarified. “This plot will fail, but he will soon begin afresh. Perhaps he will fail again. And again. But one day, he will wrench the crown from my cold dead hands and, by then, he will be the man he needs to be to rule Trollus. Not a sentimental, idealistic boy.”
The loud clamor of the bells signaling the beginning of curfew sounded, echoing through the room.
He sighed. “You see Cécile, as a child, Tristan was entranced by humanity.” He twisted a golden ring around one thick finger. “He was constantly sneaking out of the palace to go see the human traders in the market; was always pestering them with questions and playing with their animals. As he grew older, his minders constantly found him at the end of the River Road, staring at the world beyond. He had no interest in politics or in the concerns of our people, and it grew increasing clear to me that his sympathies lay contrary to my own. But no matter how hard I tried to bring him to heel, he would not bend. He was too secure in his position as my sole heir.”
“So you had another child to replace him?” I whispered.
The King shook his head. “Only to threaten his position. But do you know what he said when his brother was born?”
I shook my head.
“That he was glad to have a brother because now he wouldn’t have to be king.” The memory brought fury to his face. “As if being a king were a choice! So as punishment, I made him watch as I tore one of his favorite humans, a charming little old man, to pieces. I told him that if I ever caught him associating with the traders again, I would kill whoever it was. And he wept, but by the very next day, he had begun his pursuit of the crown.”
The door opened and a troll I did not recognize hurried inside. “Your Majesty, the half-bloods are rioting in the streets,” he gasped.
