Stolen Songbird

CHAPTER 32

CéCILE

My love.

“I choose you.” I stepped through the barrier, pushing him back and away from it. The second I was through, his emotions hit me like a tidal wave. Relief, happiness, and most of all… love. I drowned in it. We both did.

“Cécile.” He pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard and without any reservation. We both slipped to our knees, and I gloried in the feel of his lips on my lips, my cheeks, my throat. Golden buttons rained across the stones as he lost patience with them and tore the back of the dress open, purple silk sliding down my body to pool at my waist. I pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, so there was nothing between us but the silk and stays with which Anaïs had so cruelly laced my ribs. The frenzy of Tristan’s kisses faded, his lips pausing on the spot above my frantically beating heart. I felt his fingers trace down my silk-lined body. “How do you breathe in this?” he murmured.

“I can’t,” I gasped. “Take it off.”

A cough echoed through the tunnel and both of us froze. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a young troll guard standing a few paces up the tunnel, his eyes fixed on the ground at his feet. A squeak of horror escaped my lips, and I jerked the dress up around my torso, trying to reclaim some vestiges of my modesty.

“Your timing is dreadful,” Tristan said.

“Sorry, my lord,” the guard said, hazarding a peek at me. “She really isn’t supposed to be down here.”

“And you really weren’t supposed to interrupt,” Tristan said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “I’m willing to forgive the latter, if you pretend you never saw the former.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“Now how about you start walking back up the tunnel, and we’ll be along shortly.”

The guard shot an anxious look at me. “She won’t leave, will she?”

“No,” Tristan replied. “She is coming back with me.”

“Anaïs won’t be happy about this,” I said after the guard had departed, examining the torn gown.

“Likely not,” Tristan agreed, pulling his shirt back on and eyeing the dying glow of the setting sun. “We need to get back.”

I put the torn dress on as best I could, and with one hand gripping Anaïs’s shoes and the other Tristan’s hand, we started back up the River Road.

Despite being uphill, the journey back to Trollus was much pleasanter than the descent towards the beach. An enormous weight had been lifted off Tristan’s shoulders and his happiness mirrored mine. Everything was going to be all right now that he knew I wasn’t secretly searching for a way out. He trusts me now, I thought, and I found that I valued this gain as much as his love.

When I saw the glowing orbs of the guards ahead, I only felt a little bit nervous. “They won’t be terribly angry, will they?” I asked Tristan.

He frowned. “Hard to say.”

The lights started towards us. The young troll guard was waving his hands about as he explained what was going on to his fellows.

“Sorry about the bit of deception, boys,” Tristan said, throwing a companionable arm around the shoulders of two of them. “No need for anyone other than the six of us to know about this little adventure, is there?”

The older trolls grumbled a bit, but agreed to keep silent.

The younger was staring at me hard. “But if you’re here, then…” His gaze drifted back to the gate. “Then that’s…” He grimaced. “I don’t think it’s us you need to be worrying about.”

We stepped through the gate and I saw Anaïs-as-me waiting only a few paces beyond, her face anxious. The anxiety fled when she saw us, as did my features. Red hair became black; round cheeks sharpened; and blue eyes became silver ones, filled with rage. I watched her take in my disheveled appearance, and the realization of what that meant dawned on her. “I take it you decided to stay.” Her voice was harsh.

“I decided to stay,” I agreed, but as I reached for Tristan’s hand, my feet flew out from beneath me and I toppled to the ground. My first thought was that she’d hit me with her magic, but then I realized everything around me was shaking. The trolls were on the ground, too, falling bits of rock and dust bouncing off magical shields.

“Earthshake!” someone screamed.

Tristan’s arms pulled me close, his body and magic protecting me from anything that might fall from above. “Hold, hold, hold,” he repeated over and over again, his eyes locked on the magic of the tree that was all that held a million tons of rock from falling down on our heads. The rocks were moving, sliding and slamming against each other, and the noise drowned out even the sound of the waterfall.

As soon as it had started, the shaking stopped. We all rose to our feet, eyes on the shifting rocks above. Then the unthinkable happened. A boulder the size of a house slipped through the thick layers of magic and crashed downwards.

“No!” shouted Tristan, and he reached forward as though he might catch it. But even magic can move only so quickly. The rock smashed into the city.

The screaming began. Screams of terror, pain. Screams of those who had just lost loved ones beneath the weight of the rock.

“I have to…” Tristan looked at me with wild eyes and then at Anaïs. “Take Cécile back to the palace.” Then he grabbed her by the shoulders. “On your life, you keep her safe. Promise me!”

She stared at him dully. “I promise.”

Then he was off running towards the screaming. Anaïs took hold of my arm. “We need to go. The palace has a thousand years of magic reinforcing its walls – it is the safest place for you.” She looked back at the guards. “Start moving everyone to higher ground. The tides may rise against us.”

Her hand latched around my wrist and we ran through the city. The streets were thick with trolls, all of them crouched around the many pillars of the tree, their faces tense with concentration and fear.

“What are they doing?” I shouted over the sounds of screams and shifting rock.

“Flooding the tree with power!” Anaïs shouted back.

“Will it work?” My eyes were on the massive rocks shifting above us.

“He won’t let it fall.”

The ground shook again – not as badly as the first time, but it was enough to knock me from my feet. Anaïs caught me, her body taking the brunt of our fall, but my knee smashed against the ground, and blood instantly began dripping down my leg. I felt Anaïs’s magic wrap around me, tiny stones bouncing off it as she held me tight against her. All around us, glass was shattering beneath the bits of falling rock. Not only was I afraid, but Tristan was afraid, and that made it worse.

When the shaking eased, Anaïs pulled me to my feet and started running again. She protected me at her own expense, shoving aside trolls who got in our way and wrapping me in magic whenever the world trembled. My skirts clung to my bloody knee, but my fear numbed the pain.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked as we clutched each other during another violent tremor.

“Because if you die, he will die,” she hissed in my ear. “And if he dies…” Her eyes rose skyward, but whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips. “We must get back inside.” Together we ran into the palace. It was empty.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as I followed Anaïs through the corridors.

“Helping.” The shortness of her tone made me realize how much she resented not being out there herself. “Everyone who can walk. Except for you and me, that is.”

I had never felt more useless in my life.

“You can go, now, if you want. I’m safe enough here alone.” Or maybe not. I could feel blood running down my shin.

“I’ll stay until I’m told otherwise.” Anaïs flung the doors to my room open and walked over to my closets. “Take off that dress – we can’t have you running around half-naked.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling the ruined dress off my shoulders and laying it carefully across a chair. The gash on my knee was a nasty looking thing. Grabbing a handkerchief, I tried considering how best to bandage it. “Perhaps it can be mended.”

“As if I would ever wear it again.” She emerged with a gown of yellow brocade. “Here. You look pretty in this color.” She pursed her lips. “Why are you bleeding?”

“I cut myself when I fell.”

She walked over and examined the injury, and to my surprise, she began to tremble. “Why hasn’t it stopped bleeding yet? What’s wrong with you?”

I jerked away. “Because I’m not a troll, you idiot. I’m hardly going to bleed to death, but this needs to be stitched.”

“What?”

“Stitches. You can sew, can’t you?”

“You want me to sew your skin?” Her expression was one of incredulity.

“First boil this water.” I set a basin of water out, and it started bubbling within moments. I reluctantly set to cleaning the wound, my head dizzy from the pain. “Stitch,” I commanded, but the moment she pressed the needle against my flesh, I gasped in pain and jerked back. “Sorry,” I muttered. She made a second attempt with the same results. The third time I dug my nails into the upholstery and clenched my teeth so hard I thought they might crack.

“I’ll be quick,” she said, ignoring the tears flooding down my face.

Once we were through and I’d composed myself, I pulled the yellow gown on, balancing myself against the furniture when the room shook from another tremor. Anaïs flung open the curtains, went out onto the balcony, and looked up at the rocks. “If it were going to fall, I think it would have done so by now.”

She came back into the room and began placing fallen books back on the shelves. I helped her, and together we put the room back into some semblance of order. When we were finished, I sorted through smashed glassware for two unbroken cups and poured us both a heavy measure of wine.

“Thank you,” she said, sitting on one of the chairs and demurely crossing her ankles.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

“I’ve plenty of dresses, Cécile.” She took a mouthful of her wine, watching me. “Although since you stole Lessa from us, I’ve had to stand for my own fittings. It’s most bothersome.”

“I don’t mean about the dress.” And I had no intention of apologizing about Lessa.

“Oh.” I saw the dark red liquid in her cup slosh as though there’d been another tremor, but the room was still.

“You thought I’d leave today, given the chance. That was why you helped us, wasn’t it?”

“I always help Tristan when he asks something of me,” she said, composure restored.

“You’d have helped even if you’d known I wouldn’t leave?”

“I’ve never said no to him before.”

I set my glass down on the table untouched. “Enough with these vague answers. You thought I would leave and that’s why you helped. Yes or no?”

Her eyes darkened. “Yes.”

“Because if I were gone, he would spend more time with you?”

“Yes.”

“You love him?”

She drained her glass and slammed it down next to mine, cracking it. I felt power and magic roil through the room. She could snap my neck without moving. Toss me so hard against the wall my bones would shatter. But I wasn’t afraid. As much as she might hate me, she wouldn’t, couldn’t, break her word to Tristan.

“Yes.”

“Because if I were gone, then there’d be a chance he would be with you instead?”

“No.”

“You’re lying!”

Anaïs shook her head and the weight of power in the room fell away. “I cannot lie. If you’d asked me if I desired to be his wife, my answer would have been different. But it has been a long time since there was a chance of that happening.” Reaching for my untouched glass, she drained it. “For one, he has never felt that way about me. And two, I am flawed. Unfit. And there was nothing I could do to make up for it.”

I choked back a laugh of astonishment. “If you’re flawed, what does that make the rest of us? I might not like you very much, Anaïs, but you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“And I might as well be the most ugly for all the difference it makes.” She touched her chest. “My flaw lies within.”

Hefty personality flaws didn’t matter much to men when the outside was pretty, I wanted to say; but I didn’t think that was what she meant.

“You know about my sister? How she died?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Marc told me. She bled to death.”

She scowled. “He would know. Regardless, since she had the blood sickness, I have it too.”

I shook my head. “You got your fair share of scrapes during the earthshake and they’ve already healed. If you had the sickness, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“Just because it hasn’t manifested doesn’t mean I don’t have it, Cécile. It’s in me. I’d pass it down to my children.” Her shoulders slumped. “I am an unfit wife, for the future king or for anyone. I have been told so to my face by the King himself.” I watched as all her cool composure fell away, her body trembled with unshed tears. “I wasn’t good enough to marry Tristan. I am not good enough to marry anyone. No one will even touch me for fear of tarnishing my reputation. I will always be alone.”

A knock at the door interrupted her.

“Yes?” I called out, feeling rattled by the swell of sympathy Anaïs’s confession had inspired in me. The door opened and Victoria walked in, shoulders bent with exhaustion.

“Well?” Anaïs snapped. Her composure was back in place again, and I half wondered if I’d imagined her losing it in the first place.

“Six dead in the city, a dozen more injured. Two mineshafts collapsed – we think there are five gangs of half-bloods trapped, but there could be more. Miners’ Guild is waiting for the tremors to finish before they go after them, but there isn’t much hope of reaching them in time.”

I gasped and leapt to my feet. “We have to help them! They have no way to get themselves out.”

“She’s right.” Anaïs got to her feet and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. “They may not have much time.”

“No sense risking more lives. We don’t even know if they are still alive,” Victoria said, picking through broken glass, trying to find an unbroken cup and eventually giving up.

“It’s worth the risk,” Anaïs argued. “I’d do it myself if I didn’t have to stay here to mind the human.”

“Go then,” Victoria said. “I’ll stay with Cécile. You’re probably the only one left in the city who isn’t nearly drained, and no doubt she will prefer my company to yours.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Without a backward glance, Anaïs bolted out the door and I watched resentfully as she went. She could move rocks the size of horses with the flick of a finger, dig out miners buried beneath the mountain. She could save lives, and all I could do was sit here and wait. Worse yet, both Victoria and Anaïs could be out helping, but instead their magic was wasted on minding me.

“I feel so useless.”

“No one is expecting you to help, Cécile,” Victoria said, her voice sympathetic. “This is work for trolls.”

I sighed. “Let me find you an unbroken glass, then. I can do that much at least.”

With my little ball of magic in tow, I wandered from room to room, picking my way through overturned furniture, fallen items, and broken glass. The entire palace looked like a dollhouse that someone had picked up and given a good shake.

Spying an unbroken goblet on the floor, I called out, “I’ve found you a…” but then trailed off as I looked through the doorway. My friend was leaning back in a chair, mouth open, the sound of gentle snores filling the room. “Glass.”

Walking out onto my balcony, I looked down at the city. It was darker now. The trolls were all spent and had retreated to their homes. The tree was flush with power, the pillars, arches, and canopy visible even to me. It was up to the builders now to direct the magic to best balance the load. Up to Tristan.

I could feel him, so I knew that he was well enough. Anxious and tired, but unharmed. My knee ached unmercifully, but I tried to ignore the pain as best I could. I didn’t want Tristan coming back here because he thought I was hurt when his people desperately needed him. I racked my brain for what should be done to treat it, berating myself the entire time for not paying more attention to Gran. Why couldn’t I be strong like a troll, not… fragile. Human.

Tiptoeing around Victoria, I extracted Anushka’s grimoire from its hiding place. Flipping through the pages, I found her healing spell, but the plants were not native to the Isle. Turning to the last page, I stared at the word curses. Once again, I hoped for inspiration to come. For some answer that would save all the good in Trollus while protecting the world from the bad. But as before, there were no answers.

“Victoria,” I said quietly, deciding it was time to wake her. She didn’t even twitch, so I walked over and shook her shoulder. One eye opened and regarded me blearily, and I watched as realization struck and she leapt upright. “Cécile! My apologies!” She looked around wildly. “Has something happened?”

“Nothing,” I said calmly. The last thing I needed was for her to overreact like Anaïs had. “I cut my knee during the earthshake. It isn’t that bad,” I added quickly when her eyes widened. “Anaïs stitched it up, but I need some herbs to clean it properly.” I listed off several. What I really wanted was an opportunity to go to the library. There had to be more grimoires in that vast collection of books, and maybe there was one with a spell I could use to fix up myself.

Victoria nodded uncertainly. “The kitchen, perhaps? Anaïs stitched you up?”

“The kitchen is a good place to start,” I said, pulling on my cloak. “And yes, she did.” Opening the door, I walked out into the hallway. “It turns out she isn’t as awful as I once thought.”

Victoria was utterly useless at helping me find anything in the kitchen – not that I was overly surprised. “What about this?” she asked, holding a sprig of rosemary. “Smells nice.”

I shook my head and took the sprig from her. “Sit over there and wait,” I said, scanning the shelves filled with spices and herbs. The palace’s kitchen seemed to have everything but what I was looking for – most likely because what I was looking for didn’t go in a pot for flavor.

“Élise, where are you when I need you?” I muttered as I moved deeper into the kitchen, which was devoid of life. Everyone was out helping fill the tree with power – including both my maids. I could hardly begrudge them their absence, but they would have been useful in my search. They both had minds like steel traps. If they’d ever seen comfrey or calendula or any of the other herbs that I could use, they’d remember.

Remember.

I glanced down at the sprig of rosemary in my hand, the smell of it triggering my recollection of a spell in Anushka’s grimoire. Making sure I was out of Victoria’s sight, I motioned for my light to come closer and flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for: a spell for retrieving lost objects. “The incantation can be performed to help retrieve the memory of where the object was last seen,” I read softly. “The memory is pulled into the mind of she who casts the incantation.”

Neither of my maids had precisely lost what I was looking for, but I thought the spell might do. That is, if earth magic worked on them at all. They were half-human, but would that be enough? Never hurts to try, I thought to myself.

Firstly, I tracked down paper, pen, and ink. After giving it a bit of thought, I wrote clove oil on the paper and then rolled it up. Next, I needed something belonging to one of the girls. I looked myself up and down. Élise had lowered the neckline on the dress I was wearing – that meant the work was hers. I hoped that counted. Carefully, I pulled loose the piece of thread and wrapped it around the bit of paper, followed by a twist of rosemary. “Water,” I mumbled, finding a basin and filling it to the brim. From what Martin had told me about human magic, I understood that a witch drew power from the four elements, in this case water, but I didn’t understand why. Nor did I know why certain herbs were used in certain spells, but not others. Her grimoire was like a recipe book that told me how to perform certain spells, but I had no idea how or why they worked. And I didn’t have time to figure it out now.

Looking over my shoulder, I checked to make sure Victoria hadn’t moved from the spot where I left her. But my friend was slumped in a chair, chin resting on her chest. I could faintly hear the sound of her snores.

Speaking in a quiet but firm voice, I recited the strange incantation, substituting Élise’s name and clove oil in the appropriate spots. Eleven times, I repeated the phrase. On the twelfth time, I threw the rosemary-wrapped package into the basin. On the thirteenth repetition, I touched my finger to the water. The sound of waves roared loudly in my ears, and the package began to rotate around the basin. Faster and faster it spun, and with each turn, I felt magic flood up into me. I pulled my hand from the water and the contents stilled. Nothing. I could see nothing. Either the spell hadn’t worked because Élise wasn’t completely human, or she had no memory of what I’d asked for. Or maybe the thread I’d included didn’t count as hers. There were so many factors, and I had no way of knowing which one had interfered.

Sighing, I reached for the basin, but pulled back when an image appeared in the water. It wasn’t my reflection. I watched wide-eyed as a pair of hands folded linens and stacked them on shelves. The same hands then picked up a dark bottle and carefully tucked it in next to the folded sheets. This was a memory. This was Élise’s memory.

Clapping my hands together, I crowed with delight.

“What’s going on?” Victoria shouted, the chair she’d been sitting on clattering to the ground.

Snatching the water-soaked package out of the basin, I shoved it in my pocket and spun around. “Nothing,” I said, wishing for a moment I could be truthful to my friend. “I just remembered where to look. In the laundry room.”

Victoria tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips. “And when, precisely, was the last time you visited the laundry?”

Never. I grimaced. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of course I do,” Victoria replied. “But I’m not going to show you until you tell me the truth about whatever it is you’re lying about.”

I wiped my hands on my skirts and stared at the floor. Tristan had told me to keep my magic a secret – that it would be dangerous for anyone to discover I was a witch. But this was Victoria, and I couldn’t imagine a circumstance where my friend would ever try to harm me. It was Tristan who never trusted anyone, not me. For me, it was second nature to have faith in my friends – to believe they’d do right by me no matter what. And maybe that was stupid. But I didn’t want to live in a world where I couldn’t trust those closest to me. “I did a spell,” I said, handing her my water-soaked package. “It told me where to look.”

“So, you’re a witch?”

“Yes.” I hazarded a glance up to see how she was reacting. Victoria had a smile on her face.

“Well,” she said, pausing for a long, dramatic moment. “There are worse things to be – things that rhyme with witch. And at least you aren’t one of those.”

A wave of relief passed over me. “I certainly hope not.”

She slung an arm around me, squeezing me so tight I wheezed for breath. “Rhyming is as good as alliteration, you know. Possibly better. Now let’s go find what you’re looking for.”