Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(107)

“I decided to stay,” I agreed, but as I reached for Tristan’s hand, my feet flew out from beneath me and I toppled to the ground. My first thought was that she’d hit me with her magic, but then I realized everything around me was shaking. The trolls were on the ground, too, falling bits of rock and dust bouncing off magical shields.

“Earthshake!” someone screamed.

Tristan’s arms pulled me close, his body and magic protecting me from anything that might fall from above. “Hold, hold, hold,” he repeated over and over again, his eyes locked on the magic of the tree that was all that held a million tons of rock from falling down on our heads. The rocks were moving, sliding and slamming against each other, and the noise drowned out even the sound of the waterfall.

As soon as it had started, the shaking stopped. We all rose to our feet, eyes on the shifting rocks above. Then the unthinkable happened. A boulder the size of a house slipped through the thick layers of magic and crashed downwards.

“No!” shouted Tristan, and he reached forward as though he might catch it. But even magic can move only so quickly. The rock smashed into the city.

The screaming began. Screams of terror, pain. Screams of those who had just lost loved ones beneath the weight of the rock.

“I have to…” Tristan looked at me with wild eyes and then at Ana?s. “Take Cécile back to the palace.” Then he grabbed her by the shoulders. “On your life, you keep her safe. Promise me!”

She stared at him dully. “I promise.”

Then he was off running towards the screaming. Ana?s took hold of my arm. “We need to go. The palace has a thousand years of magic reinforcing its walls – it is the safest place for you.” She looked back at the guards. “Start moving everyone to higher ground. The tides may rise against us.”

Her hand latched around my wrist and we ran through the city. The streets were thick with trolls, all of them crouched around the many pillars of the tree, their faces tense with concentration and fear.

“What are they doing?” I shouted over the sounds of screams and shifting rock.

“Flooding the tree with power!” Ana?s shouted back.

“Will it work?” My eyes were on the massive rocks shifting above us.

“He won’t let it fall.”

The ground shook again – not as badly as the first time, but it was enough to knock me from my feet. Ana?s caught me, her body taking the brunt of our fall, but my knee smashed against the ground, and blood instantly began dripping down my leg. I felt Ana?s’s magic wrap around me, tiny stones bouncing off it as she held me tight against her. All around us, glass was shattering beneath the bits of falling rock. Not only was I afraid, but Tristan was afraid, and that made it worse.

When the shaking eased, Ana?s pulled me to my feet and started running again. She protected me at her own expense, shoving aside trolls who got in our way and wrapping me in magic whenever the world trembled. My skirts clung to my bloody knee, but my fear numbed the pain.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked as we clutched each other during another violent tremor.

“Because if you die, he will die,” she hissed in my ear. “And if he dies…” Her eyes rose skyward, but whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips. “We must get back inside.” Together we ran into the palace. It was empty.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as I followed Ana?s through the corridors.

“Helping.” The shortness of her tone made me realize how much she resented not being out there herself. “Everyone who can walk. Except for you and me, that is.”

I had never felt more useless in my life.

“You can go, now, if you want. I’m safe enough here alone.” Or maybe not. I could feel blood running down my shin.

“I’ll stay until I’m told otherwise.” Ana?s flung the doors to my room open and walked over to my closets. “Take off that dress – we can’t have you running around half-naked.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling the ruined dress off my shoulders and laying it carefully across a chair. The gash on my knee was a nasty looking thing. Grabbing a handkerchief, I tried considering how best to bandage it. “Perhaps it can be mended.”

“As if I would ever wear it again.” She emerged with a gown of yellow brocade. “Here. You look pretty in this color.” She pursed her lips. “Why are you bleeding?”

“I cut myself when I fell.”

She walked over and examined the injury, and to my surprise, she began to tremble. “Why hasn’t it stopped bleeding yet? What’s wrong with you?”

I jerked away. “Because I’m not a troll, you idiot. I’m hardly going to bleed to death, but this needs to be stitched.”

“What?”

“Stitches. You can sew, can’t you?”

“You want me to sew your skin?” Her expression was one of incredulity.

“First boil this water.” I set a basin of water out, and it started bubbling within moments. I reluctantly set to cleaning the wound, my head dizzy from the pain. “Stitch,” I commanded, but the moment she pressed the needle against my flesh, I gasped in pain and jerked back. “Sorry,” I muttered. She made a second attempt with the same results. The third time I dug my nails into the upholstery and clenched my teeth so hard I thought they might crack.