Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)(73)

Until we did. “Unless you’ve grown wings, by the time you made it back to the coast, all you’ll find is a city full of corpses.”

Vincent held up a hand, and I extracted the vial of blood I needed to perform the spell and handed it to him. Leaning forward, I peered around my friend’s bulk. We were at the top of a sprawling curved staircase, which, from what I could see, was one of three winding down to a vaulted foyer lit with dozens of troll-lights. Angoulême stood in front of a great set of doors, one of which was cracked. He stood alone in a pool of blood and gore. Which didn’t feel at all right. Where were his followers?

“Neither you nor Roland wish to see Trollus destroyed,” Tristan said.

“No,” Angoulême replied. “But then again, Roland isn’t in Trollus.” He laughed, tapping the tip of his cane against the floor, and I swore I heard the same sound come from somewhere else. “I suggest, Your Highness, that you start running now.”

I was still looking around for the other source of the tapping when Vincent stepped out onto the staircase to get the angle right for a throw. He made it down three steps, then the stone exploded beneath him.

Victoria jerked me backwards, magic shielding us against the rain of razor sharp shards of rock, but it did nothing to stop her terrified scream from piercing my ears. “Vincent! Vincent!”

We both scrambled toward the shattered ledge, and leaned over, peering down into the dust. Vincent lay in a pile of rubble beneath us.

And Angoulême was gone.





Chapter Forty-One





Cécile





“Vincent! No, please, no.” Tears cut tracks through the dust coating Victoria’s face as she moved to leap off the ledge.

I grabbed her arm, heaving with all my might. “Be careful! There might be more traps, and we won’t be able to help him if we set them off and kill ourselves.”

For a heartbeat, I thought she meant to shrug me off and jump, but instead she scrubbed a gloved hand across her face and nodded. Lashing magic around a pillar, she flung out her hand and a glowing ladder uncoiled into the air, tumbling down to hang above her brother. She descended with impressive speed, and though I knew it cost her to do so, hesitated just above the rubble, her magic carefully testing for any hidden pitfalls before she stepped onto the ground.

I scuttled down after her, my heart sinking at the look on her face as I found my balance on the shattered staircase. Vincent’s eyes were blank and unseeing, the pale stone beneath his head drenched with blood. Part of me refused to believe it was him: the twins were invincible, untouchable. Not… this. Vincent had known what he was doing – had been shielded and wary. And yet…

Gasping, panicked breath filled my ears, and it took me a moment to realize it was my own. Keep yourself together, I silently screamed, clenching my hands so tightly my fingers ached.

“Cécile?” The plea in Victoria’s voice cut me to the core, and I knew if he died that she would not last long. Their bond was natural, not magical, but it ran just as deep. Deeper.

Swallowing hard, I said, “I’ll try,” even as I knew the delay in our pursuit of the Duke would carry a price. That to save one life, I was putting many more at risk. But that was the choice I’d always make.

Tucking the vial into my pocket, I pulled off my gloves and pressed one palm to the pool of blood and the other to my friend’s cheek. Closing my eyes, I delved into the alien magic, feeling it curl and rise into my fingers. But it was faltering, fading. And even as I pulled, I knew it was hopeless. Knew he was too far gone.

“Damn it!” Grabbing Victoria’s arm, I pulled out my knife and sliced it across her sleeve, cutting through fabric and flesh. Hot blood ran across my fingers, the magic within it eerily similar to that which I had just touched.

No, not similar. The same.

Victoria sagged against me, and my fragile control slipped and a sob tore from my throat. “I’ll get Tristan,” I said, knowing he was just beyond the door. “He’ll be able to help.”

“No.” Victoria pulled me back down. “Angoulême has the whole place rigged. If you open the doors, this room will collapse. You need to go – you can’t let him get away.”

“Cécile?” Tristan’s voice filled the room, and I stumbled to my feet. “Can he hear me?” I asked Victoria. She gave a weak nod, and I moved over to the door, careful not to touch it lest I set off the magic.

“Tristan, the twins are hurt and Angoulême’s escaped,” I said, scanning the two remaining staircases leading up, and the one large one that lead down. The Duke we’d seen standing in the foyer had been an illusion, a projection of some sort. But I’d heard the echo of his cane tapping. He’d been close. Which way had he gone?

“How bad?”

I glanced back at the twins, Vincent unmoving and his sister slumped next to him. “They’re dying.”

His jolt of anguish sent a fresh crop of tears down my face. “Move back, Cécile. I’m going to break the door.”

“No!” I shouted the word, and it echoed through the cavernous room. “Victoria said it’s rigged to collapse.

“Stay where you are,” he shouted. “I’ll come in the back.”

Retreating back to my friends, I pulled the vial of blood out of my pocket and tilted it from side to side, watching the liquid move. Then I dropped to my knees next to them.