Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(117)

“All that matters is that you obey.” The King strode from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was quiet, even in the silence of the room.

“I won’t let you die,” Tristan said, the words almost a groan. In two strides, he was next to the bed, his forehead pressed against mine. Magic enveloped us, blocking our words from the others in the room. “I can’t lose you.” His words were muffled against my hair. “I won’t.”

“There isn’t anything you can do,” I said. “Except to let me go and promise me you’ll live.” It took every ounce of control for me to keep my voice calm and reasonable. I wasn’t even certain why I bothered, because I could see my anguish reflected in his eyes. He felt it too.

“No.”

“You aren’t making this any easier for me by saying that,” I said, my fingers clutching at his shirt. My voice cracked, and a sob racked my body with pain.

“It is the truth.” I could hear his heart thundering against my ear, feel his misery and fear. “I should have made you go when I had the chance.”

“It wasn’t your decision to make.” I kissed him hard, clinging to him with what little strength I had left. “I would never choose to leave you.”

“Isn’t that what dying means?” Bitterness echoed through me. “Leaving?”

“But not by choice.” I tried to breathe and calm myself – to bury my sorrow beneath my desire to ensure Tristan remained alive. It was the last thing I had any control over, and I clung to it like a shipwrecked sailor to the debris of his vessel.

“Does it make a difference, if the result is the same? I’m going to save you,” he muttered. “No matter what the cost.”

He gestured to Jér?me. “Give her something for the pain.” Then he motioned to Ana?s and Christophe, who both followed him across the room, their words cloaked by magic.

Jér?me stirred a mixture of herbs into some water. Lifting my head with one hand, he poured the liquid into my mouth. It tasted foul, and I struggled to swallow it back. “This will help you rest easy.”

“What are they talking about?” I asked, my eyes fixed on Tristan. He was writing something on a piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” Jér?me said. “I’ll leave these herbs for you. Take as much as you need to numb the pain.” His eyes met mine. “Take them all when you feel you cannot bear it any longer.”

My attention flickered back to Tristan. He handed Chris a folded and sealed letter, which Chris tucked into the pocket of his coat. They both wore grave expressions. Chris nodded at whatever Tristan was saying, and to my astonishment, they clasped each other’s shoulders. Tristan turned to Ana?s, and I watched them silently argue, she shaking her head while he gestured wildly. Eventually she nodded, and Tristan came back over to the bed.

“We are going to take you out of Trollus,” he said. “We cannot get anyone here to help you in time, but I believe we can smuggle you out.”

“You can’t send me away!” Hot tears filled my eyes, making Tristan’s image blur. Everything was blurry. Jér?me’s medicine was taking its effect, making both my mind and body numb. “You can’t, you can’t,” I repeated, searching for words to convey what I was feeling.

“He’s going to come with you, Cécile,” Chris said. “You don’t need to worry. We’ve found a way that he can leave.”

“What? How?” Exhaustion crept over me like a blanket of fog, my eyelids drooping. Neither Chris or Jér?me answered as they walked quickly from the room.

“Don’t worry about how,” Tristan whispered in my ear, his breath warm. “Just know that I would never choose to leave you. Rest now – we leave tonight.”

In a haze, I watched Tristan walk swiftly to the curtains. Bending down, he tore open the stitching and extracted the papers I had carefully sewn in. All this time I had assumed he’d moved them to some secret place.

He tucked the plans into his coat and, without a backward glance, hurried from the room.





CHAPTER 36





TRISTAN





I walked swiftly through the streets of Trollus, but in truth, it took every ounce of control not to run. I could not risk showing the urgency of my situation – my desperation – or they wouldn’t give me what I needed.



The city was dusty and littered with debris, and the faces of those tasked with the cleanup were equally filthy and exhausted. But that didn’t stop them from noticing my signal when I paused to light the lamps that marked the outskirts of the Dregs. Several of them stopped their tasks and walked briskly in opposite directions. It would not take them long to convene those I needed.

But first I needed to take care of those who were following me.

I wandered slowly through the Dregs for a good quarter hour, pretending to examine the damage my brother had done, before deciding I had given everyone enough time. Turning a corner sharply, I stepped into a doorway and waited. Moments later, I heard the steps of Angoulême’s men scraping across the stones. I coughed as they passed and tipped my hat as they turned. “I need a bit more privacy than usual today,” I said, and immediately trussed them up with magic, depositing them in the house behind me.