Whether the girls performed well or not in the second half, I could not have said, for I spent it with one eye on Tristan and the other on my thoughts. King Thibault might believe he had control over Lord Aiden, but we’d seen proof that control was tenuous at best. There were ways around any oath – he only needed to find them. And then what? His hatred of the trolls wasn’t limited to those who’d crossed him.

He wanted the entire race exterminated, and I knew that was what troubled Tristan. He’d always known the dangers his people faced from within Trollus, but I wasn’t sure he ever really considered what a threat humanity could be if they moved against the trolls en masse. Which might very well happen if Thibault died or Aiden found a way around his oaths.

Then what would we do? What would Tristan do if his people’s lives were in danger? How far would he go to keep them safe? I desperately wanted to know Tristan’s thoughts, but now was not the time or place to ask them. Regardless of what had happened, we had a strategy in play, and to abandon it would be folly.

After the performance, we went to the foyer to see the dancers. The men all watched them with covetous eyes, except for Tristan, who was examining the portraits lining the room, expression light, and his mind grim. “Where is that necklace now?” he asked me. “Could you use it in place of the book?”

I used it to buy the ox that I slaughtered as part of a ritual sacrifice to set you free.

“I sold it.” I’d told my mother that it was with the jewelers having the chain repaired. Lies, lies, lies. But I didn’t want him to know what I had done.

“What for?”

“Coin.”

“Why? You’re hardly destitute.”

“After I saw them all wearing it, it made me feel strange. I didn’t want it anymore.”

He stepped closer so that no one would overhear. “That was a mistake. Tell me the pawnbroker you sold it to and I’ll get it back.”

“It wasn’t a shop. It was just a… a man I met in passing. I’ll tell you where to find him later.”

The magic of his disguise faded for a heartbeat and then his eyes were back to grey. “You know how I feel about lies, Cécile. Especially coming from you, and especially when the lives of my people are at stake. You may have lost our only chance for the sake of money to spend on trinkets and toys.”

I knew his foul temper was less to do with me and more to do with Lord Aiden’s threats, but it didn’t feel that way. All I’d wanted was one night where I could feel normal. One night where I could pretend we had a sure future together. It had been a silly desire, but I couldn’t help but feel upset at seeing it torn away from me. One night was all I had wanted. Had that been so much to ask?

“I gave it to a stockman in exchange for an ox, and the ax I used to kill it, as part of the spell that broke you free,” I said, and not waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked away.

Moving as quickly as I could without attracting undue attention, I left the foyer and made my way backstage to the crew entrance. There was no one outside, so I leaned against the stone of the building, gulping in mouthfuls of cold air. The moon was very nearly full, and I stared up at it, wishing the power I’d used had come from such a pure source.

“It has been a long time, Cécile,” a familiar voice said from behind me. I lowered my eyes from the moon, and fear charged through my heart as I came face to face with the pistol leveled between my eyes.

Forty-Two

Cécile

I opened my mouth to scream, but only a pathetic whine escaped.

“Be silent. I know the powers you hold.”

“Esmeralda?” I choked her name out. “Why are you doing this?”

Her jaw tensed as though she were trying to speak but could not. The pistol wobbled up and down, but steadied when I took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But the favor has been called due.”

The shot rang loud, tearing apart the stillness of the night. I’d closed my eyes as though not seeing would somehow protect me from the bullet. I held my breath, waiting for the terrible moment when I’d feel hot blood trickling down skin and the pain of metal rending my insides apart. But instead I felt nothing.

Forcing my eyes open, I stared at the flattened bit of metal hanging inches in front of my face, as though it were embedded in an invisible wall. Then beyond it to where Esmeralda lay on her back, the snow splattered with what looked like ink, but what I knew was blood. So very, very much blood.

The bullet dropped from the air to land silently in the snow, and I turned around to see Tristan standing at the crew exit, one arm stretched out in front of him. My gaze went back to Esmeralda, and moving sluggishly, I knelt down next to her, pushed back her hood, and felt for a pulse at her neck. It was a hopeless effort – I could have fit my fist through the hole in her chest.

“Esmeralda.” There was no inflection in Tristan’s voice, no emotion, but his shock made my own hands shake.

“A troll made her do this.” I pulled away my hand, convinced I could feel her skin already beginning to cool beneath my fingertips. “She owned Reagan a favor, and it was called due.”

“I didn’t mean to…” His voice was choked. “You need to help her.”

“She is beyond help,” I said. I did not add that what he’d done to her would have been enough to fell any living thing in this world.

“No!” He fell to his knees, heedless of the pool of blood. “Use magic. Heal her. Fix her. You know how.”