Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)(31)

A scream echoed through the woods, and we stopped, waiting for another. “From the other trail, I think,” Marc said. “But hard to say whether it was human or troll. Let’s keep moving.”

We stepped into a clearing, and the sun beat off the pristine snow, making even my eyes sting.

“Stones and sky,” Vincent hissed. “Never thought I’d miss being stuck underground, but I do.”

They were walking blind, so I tried to look every which way for them. Despite the chill in the air, sweat dribbled down my back, and every bird chirp or crack of a branch made me jump. I rotated in a circle, peering into the depths of the forest as I turned. Though we were almost through the clearing, I rotated again. Then something caught my eye.

“Stop.”

Marc froze. I circled around him, noting the way the hoof prints moved up the side of the path, whereas the troll’s boot prints just… disappeared. “Give me your sword,” I said, then, taking the blade, I poked the ground in front of the last footprint.

Solid.

I shuffled forward a pace, and poked the ground. Nothing. A thought occurred to me, and I snapped my head up so hard my neck clicked. But there was no troll hiding in the branches above. Frowning, I took another step, and the ground fell out from under my foot.

I shrieked and threw my weight back, sprawling in the snow.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Victoria said, even as Marc added, “And the mice discover a way to kill the lions.”

Rolling onto my hands and knees, I stared into the hole that had nearly claimed me as its next victim. It was deep, and the bottom was covered in sharpened steel spikes. Impaled on one of them was a troll.

“Is he dead?” I asked, hardly willing to believe it was possible.

“Quite.” Marc dropped the edge of the white sheet of canvas that, along with a fresh dusting of snow, had been used to conceal the opening. Keen eyes would have seen the trap, but those of a running troll half blind from the sun? Not likely.

A grouse called from the woods, and I stiffened. “They’re watching us,” I said under my breath. If they were with Chris, then they were my friends, but I was in disguise and none but he would know Marc and the twins were allies. Lifting my hands to my mouth, I repeated the bird call.

Silence. And too much of it. “Companions of Chris will know who I am,” I whispered to Marc. He nodded once, and held out an arm to help me to my feet.

Taking a deep breath, I called out, “We’re no threat to you. I’m a friend of Christophe Girard.”

For several long and painful moments, no one responded, then the bushes rustled and Chris’s face emerged. “Cécile? What did you do to your hair?”

I winced at his use of my name, hoping the fairies weren’t watching. “Long story.” I gestured at the pit. “What’s going on here?”

He emerged from the bushes, and with a wave of his hand, four other faces appeared from the woods – all folk from Goshawk’s Hollow. “Tristan gave me a few ideas before I left,” he said. “The rest… Well, I remembered how blinded he was those first few days after he left Trollus, and I figured we could take advantage of that.”

“And you decided Roland should be your first target?” I balled my hands into fists, curbing the urge to lay into him for ruining our plans. What was done was done.

Chris shook his head. “We’ve been watching them. Roland refuses to come out into the sun, and besides, Lessa seems to control his every move. Didn’t seem likely she’d let him chase after us into the woods.” Scrubbing his fingers through his hair, he glanced into the pit. “The other two were our targets. Figured we’d take out as many as we could so Tristan’d have a clear shot at his brother. Speaking of which…”

“He’s protecting Trianon,” I said. “That’s why we’re here – he sent us to put a stop to Roland.”

Chris’s gaze shot back to me, his brow furrowing. “And judging from your tone, we muddied up your plans.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re supposed to be helping people to safety.”

“That’s already done,” he replied. “Your gran personally set to dragging everyone out of their homes and into the mountains, but…” He nodded at the four who’d overcome their fear of Marc and the twins and finally approached. “There’s plenty who’d rather fight than hide, and I’m one of them.”

I bristled at the implied accusation, but before I could respond, Marc asked, “How many have you killed?”

“Six.” Chris jerked his chin at the body in the pit. “If that scream was his friend, it will be seven. Cocky bastards are easy to separate, and they’ve not yet figured out our game.”

“That won’t last.” Magic pried one of the stakes out the ground, and Marc examined it thoughtfully as it floated in front of him. “All it takes is one getting out of a trap alive, or another coming along before you’ve reset it.”

The air filled with the thud of hooves, and a cloaked rider came through the trees, horse blowing hard in the frosty air. “We caught him! Worked like a charm.”

“Josette?” Her name came out of my mouth more as an accusation than a greeting, and my sister pulled her horse up hard. “Cécile? What happened to your hair?”