The Malediction: Hidden Huntress Part 44

"I do," she replied, blue eyes glittering. "But in case I'm wrong, I've another plan. Just in case."

The hammer on a pistol clicked, and I went very still. Turning my head slightly, I saw the young man who had played the devil Julian was standing in the shadowy entrance to a room, his weapon leveled at my head.

She sighed softly. "Five hundred years have pa.s.sed, and you trolls still have not learned."

"Learned what?"

a.n.u.shka smiled. "That you are not invincible. These weapons did not exist when I lived amongst your kind, but knowing what I know, I'm confident that even one of your power will not easily survive a bullet to the head."

I did not doubt she was correct. "Then what are you waiting for," I said. "Do it."

"Not just yet," she said. "I need Cecile first. In." She jerked her chin at the room behind me.

I didn't move.

a.n.u.shka pressed her revolver hard against Sabine's head. "If her life means nothing to you, then I see no point in keeping her alive."

Sabine's eyes met mine, and while there was no mistaking the fear in them, they were dry. Determined. She gave a slight shake of her head.

There was a good chance I could move fast enough to disarm Julian and save myself. But there was no chance of saving both of us. I'd told Cecile that rightly or wrongly, some lives were worth more than others. By all the rules of logic, what was Sabine's life worth compared to mine? What consequences would result from her death in comparison to mine?

But all that logic seemed meaningless.

"Too late you realize the cost of allying yourself with a troll," a.n.u.shka said softly into Sabine's ear. "They will protect you only when there is no cost to themselves. They have no souls."

"Says the black-hearted b.i.t.c.h who murders her own children." Sabine lifted her chin. "Don't listen to her, Tristan. Kill her."

a.n.u.shka tsked softly. "Cecile will never forgive you for killing her mother. Or for letting her dear friend die."

I inhaled, then exhaled slowly. Cecile had discovered Genevieve and a.n.u.shka were one and the same. Had discovered it and hadn't told me, which was no small act of will given the compulsion she was under to destroy the witch. It was something only possible if a greater emotion ruled her actions.

Love.

Though Genevieve had done nothing to deserve it, I knew my wife desperately loved her mother and that she'd kept the information from me to protect her. Cecile was coming our direction, her mind desperate and wild with fear. But was it fear for what a.n.u.shka might do to me or of what I might do to her mother? "If I do what you ask, will you let Sabine go?" I'd keep her friend safe that much I could do.

"No," a.n.u.shka replied, a smile creeping onto her lips. "But I won't put a bullet in her skull."

I didn't trust her for a second, but what choice did I have? "Fine." Turning slowly so as not to alarm the devil standing behind me, I walked into the room, ignoring the pistol that remained leveled at my head.

a.n.u.shka pushed Sabine in after us, kicking the wooden door shut behind her. The room was a set of living quarters, well furnished and unremarkable with the exception of the heavy chains set deep into the thick stone of the walls and floor. a.n.u.shka shoved Sabine. The girl tripped over the heavy skirts and would have fallen if I hadn't caught her.

"Chain him."

"Not a chance," Sabine said, righting herself. "Feel free to do your worst, but I won't..."

a.n.u.shka's gun fired.

Fifty-Six.

Cecile

The swing took a thousand years to lower, and I jumped off when it was still several feet above the ground. Ignoring the startled looks, I sprinted toward the exit and into the hall, letting instinct guide me in Tristan's direction, screaming a mental warning to him even as I felt his shock and knew it had come too late. My bare feet made little noise as I ran through the narrow corridors. If she kills him, it will be your fault, my conscience whispered, and I knew it was true. I'd thought I could have it both ways, and now I was paying for my mistake.

The sharp bark of a pistol firing filled the corridors, and I tripped on the hem of my skirt and fell, barely feeling the pain as the rough stone floors ripped the palms of my thin gloves. A howl tore out of my chest, and I pressed my forehead against my hands, waiting for the sharp knife of death to carve my insides out and leave me empty as it had the moment I'd knelt before the guillotine.

But it did not come.

Tristan was furious and very afraid, but unharmed. So who had been shot?

Climbing to my feet, I eased cautiously down the dimly lit hall, stopping instinctively in front of a heavy door. Tristan was on the other side, but who was with him? Was it only a.n.u.shka, or did she have an accomplice? For all I knew, there could be a dozen of Marie's guards standing in the room with her. Of a certainty, this was a trap, but it wasn't one I could run away from.

But that didn't mean I had to go in blind.

Hurrying down the hall, I tried the door of the adjoining room. It was locked. But the next one wasn't. My heart racing, I ran through the dark chambers to one of the narrow windows on the far wall. It was less than a foot wide, but for once my short stature came in handy as I unlatched the gla.s.s and climbed up onto the windowsill.

Icy wind tore at my hair and dress, and my stomach clenched as I looked down. It wasn't a horridly distant drop, but if I fell onto the bare stone below, my injuries would be grievous. The alternative was much worse, so I inched out onto the narrow ledge and cautiously eased my way toward the next window, my bare feet burning.

The snow crunched with each step I took, my fingers digging into the crumbling mortar between the heavy blocks of stone. My pulse thundered in my ears as I reached the window well; and clinging to the edge, I peered in with one eye.

It was a bedroom, both dark and empty, but through an open set of doors, I could see into the sitting room that adjoined it. Julian stood with his back to me, the gun he held leveled at Tristan's head, indicating that a.n.u.shka had cut him off from his magic, because otherwise such a threat would be meaningless. My mother stood a few paces in front of him, smiling and gesturing with the silver pistol in her hand. And Sabine...

My throat burned with the hurt of betrayal as I watched my best friend fasten heavy chains to Tristan's wrists and ankles, and then toss the key at my mother. It was only when she slumped to her knees next to his feet and pressed a hand to her shoulder that I saw the dark stain on her dress, and my hurt turned instantly to anger.

I needed to get inside that room.

I pressed a hand carefully against the gla.s.s, but it was latched from the inside. I could break it, but there was no chance they wouldn't hear it. A glance over my shoulder revealed the moon shining full and bright. I was running out of time.

Then a flicker of motion caught my eye. Peering back in the window revealed the tiniest glimmer floating just inside the gla.s.s. It was my light!

Although to call it such was almost a lie, because it had faded almost into nothingness since my flight from Trollus. But it was now my only chance.

Ignoring the violent shivers threatening my grip on the ledge, I focused on the tiny bit of magic, Tristan's words drifting through my mind: My magic is what I will it to be. It does what I will it to do... I'd coaxed it into brightening and dimming before, but never before had I tried to change the purpose Tristan had given it. I envisioned it as a force, like a finger hooking onto the latch and flicking it back. Beyond, I could not help but see Sabine slump against the carpets and feel the flash of panic from Tristan as he stood chained and powerless to help her.

With what seemed like reluctance, the magic drifted toward the metal latch, and my teeth chattered together as I willed it into action. I'd lost feeling in my toes, and my fingers were following suit. If this didn't work, I wasn't sure I'd even be able to make it back to the other window.

Click. The magic winked out, and I knew it was gone forever. But it had done enough.

Pressing my reddened fingertips against the gla.s.s, I began to push it in, but then stopped. The wind was howling around the castle, and it was sure to blast into the room. My eyes burned with the pain of the cold, and then the air went still as if the world itself was holding its breath. A p.r.i.c.kle of apprehension ran down my spine, but I ignored it and opened the window, sliding in as swiftly and silently as a ghost before carefully shutting it behind me.

"What is it you trolls say?" My mother's voice was mocking. " 'All humans are liars'? You had to know there's no way I'd let the girl live. She knows too much, and I've not endured all these long years through lack of caution."

"As though you don't know a hundred ways to wipe the knowledge from her mind," Tristan snarled. "You did this to provoke me and hurt Cecile, not out of necessity."

"Don't presume to simplify my motivations, Your Highness. The curse I set on your kind required the death of a troll and the sacrifice of a human. With you and her, I will finish what I started five centuries ago."

She jerked her chin at Julian. "He's no danger now that he's chained. Go track down Cecile there's little chance of her stumbling upon us, and we'll have need of her shortly."

"Yes, love." Julian hid his pistol in the waistband of his costume, and I would have cringed as he kissed her cheek in pa.s.sing, but my mind was on her words. If she didn't know that I could find Tristan, that meant she didn't know we were bonded, and there had to be a way to use that to my advantage. Keeping to the shadows, I crept closer to the door, hoping Tristan had noticed my presence.

He had.

"Really?" It was Tristan's turn to mock her, and he did it well. "I'd heard you'd a taste and a talent for ensnaring powerful men, but I see your predilections are for those young enough to be your son. You've fallen far indeed if manipulating children is all you're now capable of. The great a.n.u.shka, guilty of murder, regicide, infanticide, and... the bedding of orphan boys."

He was baiting her, trying to distract her so that I could make my move. Except I didn't have one. Regardless, my mother only laughed. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Julian isn't for me he's for Cecile."

Tristan lifted one brow. "Seems it will be a short courtship, given you intend to kill her tonight."

"On the contrary, Cecile will have a long and glorious career with Julian at her side. It's Genevieve whose time has come to an end."

Tristan's confusion mirrored my own, and my stomach tightened, knowing that her plans were not as we had thought.

"All will become clear in time," she said. "But the girl need not suffer for so long as that. The power of her sacrifice will keep."

In a quick motion, my mother caught hold of Sabine's ankle and jerked her away from Tristan. He swore, and the steel chains holding him in place groaned with strain as he pulled against them. "If you harm her, I'll tear the heart from your chest, witch."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, troll." a.n.u.shka knelt beside Sabine, and I watched in horror as she pressed the mouth of her pistol to my friend's chest. "I did promise I wouldn't put a bullet in her head," she added with a smile.

I had to stop her, but I didn't know how. I had no materials or time for a spell, and what was the strength of my power against hers?

Her finger tightened on the trigger, and I lunged out into the room. "Stop!" I threw as much magic into the word as I possessed. Her hand froze and her eyes went blank. But only for a second, and then they went wide and overly bright.

"Well, well. It seems you will never cease astonishing me with your resourcefulness, Cecile." She sat back on her heels. "You have a way to find your troll master, do you darling? They are normally reluctant to carry charms and such, but I suppose five hundred years of captivity is enough to change even them."

"Let her go, Mama." Why did I call her that? "Please. She's done nothing to deserve this. Let her go."

"I need her." Her eyes were unblinking. Calculating.

I shook my head, ducking under one of Tristan's chains as I moved closer. "You need him. But Sabine doesn't have to die someone else would serve."

"True," a.n.u.shka replied, sitting back on her heels. "But she is here and likely to die from her other wound anyway."

"You don't need to curse the trolls again," I said, desperately trying another tactic as the blood soaked into the carpet beneath Sabine. "I tried to break them free and I failed. I can't do it. I don't want to do it." The lie slipped easily from my lips.

"And yet this one is free." Rising to her feet, she walked around me to stand in front of Tristan. "Which means it's possible, and a more permanent solution is in order."

Taking advantage of the moment, I dropped to my knees next to Sabine. Tearing a strip of fabric from my skirt, I bound her shoulder as tightly as I could manage. My friend was pale and shaking, and if she didn't get help soon, she'd bleed to death. She smiled bravely, then catching my hand, she placed it on her opposite forearm. Beneath the sleeve of her dress was something hard. A knife. I carefully extracted it, hiding it in the mesh belt of my dress.

"I'm weary of this life." a.n.u.shka's voice was soft. "I want the chance to live as I wish. Not to spend my days in fear that the trolls will catch me or that a foolish regent will burn me at the stake. Before, I was too blinded by hurt to see what needed to be done. But no longer."

Kill her! I clenched my teeth against the rush of compulsion. She had the pistol pointed at Tristan, and it might go off if I stabbed her. Still, I edged closer.

She reached a hand to brush the hair off Tristan's face, withdrawing it only when he lunged at her, his face taut with fury as he strained against the chains. "You have the look of Alexis," she said. "But I suppose that's no surprise. You all have the look of each other. Base things that you are."

Turning away from Tristan, she went to a chest and pulled out a jar. Something moved from within. Keeping one eye on me, she set her pistol on a table next to a basin of what looked like lamp oil. Touching a candle to it, she waited for the flames to flare brightly, then she opened the jar and dumped in the contents. I caught a glimpse of a large spider, legs thrashing, and then it was gone, consumed. She murmured some words under her breath, and suddenly I couldn't move, my legs frozen in place and my arms paralyzed at my sides. Helpless.

"You see, Cecile," she said, leaving the pistol where it lay and coming toward me. "That's what they are. Base. To the human eye, they are so very lovely, but to their ancestors, the immortal fey, they are wretched, ugly, and colorless things. Trolls. With his death, I will curse them never to draw another breath, and no one in this world or the next will mourn their loss."

I spat in her face, because it was all that I could manage.

Lifting one black sleeve, she wiped it away. Then she slapped my cheek hard enough to whip my face sideways. "Of all the disobedient daughters I've had over the centuries, none caused me half as much trouble as you."

My eyes watered from the pain and I blinked. "I'm sure if they had known the truth about you, they'd have fought harder."

"The truth?" The look she gave me was ripe with pity.

Going to the window, she pushed back the drapes and eyed the moon. "Time enough." Her heels made m.u.f.fled thuds against the carpet as she walked back to Tristan. "How did you know Cecile was mine?"

He laughed silently. "You of all people should know that the fey see all they wish to behold."

She c.o.c.ked her head to one side. "If that is so, why did they wait so very long to help you?"

He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "What is five hundred years to those who watched time begin and will endure beyond its final hour?"

She snorted. "Which is your pretty way of saying that you don't know. Maybe they wanted to see you suffer?"

"Perhaps." He smiled at her. "But a base creature such as myself has no business speculating about the motives of his immortal betters. Does it unnerve you that, even now, they are watching?"

Her expression tightened. "Let them watch. Let them bear witness to the end of the trolls."

"We'll see," Tristan replied. "Pulling a mountain down on our heads was not enough to destroy us, so we may yet endure your spell."

Recoiling, naked surprise broke across her face. "You think I broke the mountain?" She threw back her head and laughed. "Why would I have done such a thing? And how? Ah, you see, Cecile? They cannot lie, but they are the masters of deception. What great steps they must have taken to erase the truth and cast blame so that five centuries later, a Montigny prince himself believes such a falsehood to be true."

"You're lying." Tristan's voice was flat.

"No, Your Highness, I am not." She licked her lips, then smiled as though they'd been rimmed with sugar. "The greed of the trolls broke the mountain. You mined the earth too viciously, and it was she who took revenge."

"I don't believe you," Tristan snarled, but I could feel his doubt.

"What if the words came from the one you love?" Her eyes flicked to me. "Would you like to see my memory of that day, Cecile? I know you've meddled in such magic before."

She was talking about Catherine. How much had she extracted from the witch before killing her? "You murdered her."

"She gave me no choice. She should have learned the first time not to cross me, but still she insisted on meddling," she said. "Now do you wish to see the truth? If not, it matters little to me."

Except that I could see that it did. There was antic.i.p.ation in her voice and an intensity in her stare that betrayed her. I might not have known her true ident.i.ty, but that didn't mean I didn't know her. She wanted me to see what happened, but for what purpose, I wasn't certain. To prove she wasn't a liar? To gloat? Seeing wouldn't change anything, but it would delay her plans, and maybe Tristan would think of a way to get free. I nodded. "Show me."