“You see, Cécile,” 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 muffled thuds against the carpet as she walked back to Tristan. “How did you know Cécile was mine?”

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

She cocked 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, Cécile? 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, Cécile? 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 anticipation in her voice and an intensity in her stare that betrayed her. I might not have known her true identity, 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.”

Going back to her chest, Anushka extracted jars of dried plants that I did not recognize, putting a pinch of each into a basin, along with what I thought was a tortoise shell. On top of it all, she drizzled a dense and foul smelling liquid. With a touch of a lit candle the potion burst into flames, and she set the smoking basin between us.

“Look at me and inhale,” she said, and then in a different tone she added, “Remember.”

The smoke seared my nostrils, and with the word, magic rose in a torrent, from the earth, the sky, the flames, and the water they burned upon. Infinitely more power than she needed, but it was rich and heady on the air, ready for the taking.

Then the room fell away, and when I opened my eyes, I lay beneath the sun in the heat of summer. This was different from when I’d taken Catherine’s memory – then I had been but a witness. Now I was myself, but I was also her.

I lounged on a divan, my fingers trailing through grass so lush it felt like streamers of velvet. In the distance, the royal palace gleamed in the sun. It seemed far vaster than I remembered, but perhaps that was because I’d only ever seen it cloaked in shadow.

I – no, Anushka lay in the gardens, but they were not made of glass. Instead, a natural beauty that the trolls would later try to mimic with their art surrounded her. Flowers, plants, and trees all rose up in a wild yet cultivated abandon, and through her eyes, I drank in colors more brilliant than any I’d seen. Tiny creatures with gossamer wings flitted between the flowers, the blooms opening with the touch of their tiny hands. It was a charmed place, as magical as the garden that now stood in its place. Only her eyes were not for the flowers or their tiny gardeners, but for the troll approaching her.