Unbidden, the feel of Christophe’s hands came to my mind. The rough, calloused hands of a farmer. His blue and so very human eyes. He was certainly handsome – all the girls fought for turns to dance with him at festivals. Kind, thoughtful, and hardworking, he would make someone a good husband. Make me a good husband? I imagined what it would be like to hold his hand while we walked; how it would feel if he kissed me out under the stars. What it would be like if I wed Chris and let him take me to his bed?
My mind recoiled at the very idea of it. It wasn’t that Chris disgusted me, but the thought of doing any of those things with anyone but Tristan made me sick to my stomach.
Getting to my feet, I walked down the beach until I reached the eastern edge of the rock fall. Then I made my way up the slope until I reached the edge of the massive wooden bridge built years ago that spanned the rock. From here, I could see the entire extent of the fall that stretched between Forsaken Mountain and the beach, and it seemed impossible that an entire city resided beneath. I started across the bridge, stepping carefully to avoid getting splinters in my bare feet. When I reached the point above River Road, where Tristan waited for me, I stopped. If I continued east on the road, I would eventually reach Trianon. West and then north would take me back to the Hollow.
Choose.
Hoof beats sounded on the wooden bridge. A rider was coming towards me on a big white horse. When he saw me, he pushed the horse to a gallop, rapidly covering the distance between us. Then he pulled the horse to a stop so sharply that it reared up.
“My lady! What are you doing on the road all alone! It isn’t safe.”
I took in his clothing and the quality of the horse – a wealthy landowner, or perhaps a minor nobleman.
“What do I have to fear?” I asked, leaning back against the railing. The answer was: plenty. I was unarmed, and Tristan was beyond reach.
The man’s eyes raked over me, taking in my jewels and finery. “A beauty like you, my lady?” He smiled. “Ravishment, at the very least.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Surely a man of your quality would never consider such a thing, sir?”
He inclined his head. “I’d take off the head of any who tried, lady.” He reached down with one arm. “Let me take you back to the city.”
I stared at his hand. This was my chance, if I wanted to take it. Once I was in Trianon, there would be no turning back.
I shook my head. “Someone is waiting for me.”
The man laughed. “Lucky man. And good day to you, lady.” He clucked to his horse and cantered down the road. I waited until he was out of sight before walking back along the bridge and down to the beach, where I sat in the sand for a very long time. There were so many things I would be giving up if I went back to Trollus, but there was a lot I would be leaving behind if I didn’t. Not just Tristan, but Marc and the twins, and all the other trolls I’d met and befriended in my time beneath the mountain. Trollus had its dark side, but there was so much about it that I loved, a world of opportunity in one small city – and once Tristan was king, he’d wipe away the darkness, leaving only light.
And there was the matter of the half-bloods to consider. I felt I owed it to them to try to enact the change they so desperately needed, to give them a chance at having lives worth living. The thought of leaving the miners in their current circumstances filled me with guilt, especially given that they already thought I’d tried to abandon them once.
I poured sand from one hand to another, weighing and measuring, but it was hard to value matters of the heart. When I finally stood, the choice was clear.
I started back towards the mouth of River Road. Tristan must have heard, or at least felt, my coming, because he got to his feet and leaned against the invisible barrier. This place, like twilight or dawn, was a bridge between darkness and light. A place where both fought for domination, but neither ever truly won. Here, Tristan looked more human than I had ever seen him. His troll-light had disappeared, and his eyes, while still unnaturally silver, did not glow. The otherworldliness had diminished. I wondered, as I walked towards him, if out in the brightness of the sun, he would seem as mortal as me. He was still beautiful, handsome, like something out of a dream, but the coldness of that perfection was softened by anxiety, fear, and hope. Painful, painful hope.
As I reached the edge of the barrier, I stopped and looked back. The waves crashed towards me, the tide coming in; and even in the shade, the sun warmed my bones with a heat never felt in Trollus. My world. My life. My choice.
I cleared my throat. “I’ve made my decision.”
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 y
ou 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.
ARC: Stolen Songbird Page 32
