Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)(105)
We both should’ve known better.
* * *
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked. “It does hurt, you know.”
“You mean all those screams coming from your laboratory weren’t of ecstasy?” Victoria asked, leaning back in her chair and putting her boots on my workstation, which, no matter how many times it was scrubbed, remained stained dark with troll blood. “That’s ominous.”
I glanced over at Vincent, who sat in the opposite chair, and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. He still hadn’t spoken, but his eyes were no longer expressionless, and when Victoria, Tristan, or I spoke to him, he listened intently. It was impossible to say whether my spell would cure him, as his affliction was not the result of the iron poisoning his blood. But it was hard not to be hopeful.
Tristan and I had offered Victoria the chance to be first of those I worked my magic on to send back, but she’d refused, and had instead taken on the responsibility of gathering up the few full-bloods who were reluctant to take their place on my workbench, either for fear of the pain or because their madness did not allow them to understand the opportunity it presented. All had been cured of their iron affliction, although many who had physical deformities maintained their outward appearance by choice, walking through the tear into Arcadia in the same form in which they’d lived their lives.
The three trolls standing in my presence were all who remained in this world.
“You aren’t getting soft, are you?” Tristan asked, punching Victoria in the shoulder and then dodging Vincent’s fist. “I never took you for a coward.”
Their banter drifted to my ears as I prepared the potion, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. I’d lost so many of those I loved already, and though the twins were hardly dying – I would be making them immortal – it felt much the same. The Summer King wasn’t taking any chances with losing his people to this world a second time, which meant none of the trolls I cured would be able to come back. I’d never see the twins again. A tear ran down my cheek, and I brushed it aside before anyone noticed.
Tristan had gone walking with them earlier today, all the tears and goodbyes accomplished already. They were trying to maintain their levity now, but it was strained. With grief, yes, but also with an anxious sort of hope, because we did not know how the spell would affect Vincent.
“There’s only one way to find out, Cécile,” Victoria said, seeming to read my thoughts. Another tear fell, but I nodded. “I’m ready.”
My worktable was too small for the both of them, and given the connected nature of their power, I believed I needed to perform the spell on both of them at the same time. While Tristan dragged the table out of the way, the twins came over to me, each of them taking one of my hands. “You’ve been a good friend,” Victoria said. “And a mad accomplice. We’ll miss you dearly, you know that?”
“Likewise.” I wiped my nose with a handkerchief. “The world will seem a much duller place without you two, and infinitely less alliterative.”
Vincent smiled, and I knew it was time. They lay next to each other on the floor, Tristan standing in the shadows of a corner, his face revealing none of his anxiety. He gave me a slight nod, and I began.
Neither twin made so much as a peep as the blood began to rise from their skin, grimaces the only sign of the intense pain they were feeling. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and though it was cowardly, I closed my eyes. I felt it the moment they changed, my hands falling into nothingness. Victoria would still be there, but would Vincent? Was there enough left of his mind to maintain his existence without a mortal body holding it together?
No one spoke, and with my heart in my throat, I opened my eyes.
Victoria sat in front of me, her eyes wide as she watched the mist of Vincent’s form fade and drift. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t leave me, brother.”
A hand gripped mine, and I cast a sideways glance at Tristan, who was kneeling with me in the twins’ blood. “Come on, Vincent,” he said. “You can do this.”
I held my breath, and then slowly, improbably, Vincent solidified. He turned his head to his sister. “Victoria?”
A sob tore from her lips, and she flung her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Tristan’s hand relaxed against mine, and it wasn’t until I felt the dull ache in my fingers that I realized how tightly he’d been holding it. Vincent was himself again, but the moment was bittersweet, because we were still losing them.
Reluctantly, I handed the twins the last of my store of élixir, watching sadly as they drank it.
A tear opened behind them, the smell of summer filling my laboratory.
“We have to go,” Victoria said. “He’s calling us.” They rose. “Goodbye, my friends,” she said, then to me, “Thank you.”
I nodded, holding Tristan’s hand tight. And then the twins were gone.
We were both were silent for a long time, then Tristan said, “Get cleaned up, and then let’s go for a ride. There is something I need to do.”
* * *
Tristan’s horsemanship had improved in the time he’d spent with Chris, and he rode with almost reckless speed, trusting that I’d keep up. He kept to the Ocean Road, slowing to a trot just before we reached the bridge spanning the rock fall. Sliding off his horse, he waited until I was on the ground and silently tied up our mounts. Then he took my hand, and led me down to the entrance to Trollus.