Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(122)

The keening wail of pain made me cringe.

“Go,” she gasped. “There isn’t much time.”

Tristan came over to my side. “He knew everything,” I choked out. “I tried to warn you, but…” A racking cough tore through my chest. “He has a witch somewhere in the city.”

Tristan’s eyes flicked over to his father. “He’ll never tell me where. It’s better we leave Trollus now, while we have the chance.”

A small, satisfied little smile rose on the King’s face.

Tristan carefully wrapped my torso in magic to keep my ribs from moving, then scooped me up off the bed, my dying, drugged body limp in his arms. “Thank you,” I whispered to Ana?s as he walked to the broken window.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “Thank you anyway.”

Over Tristan’s shoulder, I saw the King on the ground, held in place by magic. As I suspected, there was no fear in his eyes, but what sent a thrill of terror through my body was the calm thoughtfulness on his face. It made me afraid that despite how things appeared on the surface, the situation had still gone according to his plans.

Tristan stepped out onto the balcony and through the sound barrier. Shouts and screams filled the air.

“I ordered the sympathizers to start the rebellion.”

“I know,” I croaked. “You need to make them stop.”

“Not yet,” he muttered, hurrying over to the wall. “Victoria? Vincent?”

“Here!”

I rose up into the air and felt another set of magic hands catch hold of me, lowering me down until I was in Vincent’s big arms. “Don’t you worry, Cécile,” he said, grinning. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Tristan dropped down next to us and took me back in his arms. “Marc’s waiting?”

They nodded.

“Let’s go then.”

“The fighting’s thickest down at River Road,” Victoria whispered as we ran down dark alleys, making our way stealthily through the city. “They think that’s the way you’ll try to take her, so we engaged them there to keep up the ruse.”

I heard magic break against magic, sword against sword. The screams of the dying hung in my ears, blood flashing in my eyes. Dying because of me. Dying because Tristan had ordered them to. But it all seemed to be part of a dream. My delirium.

I saw Marc by the gate to the labyrinth, the key glittering in his hand.

“Come with us, come with us,” I mumbled, trying to grab hold of him, but he seemed so far.

“Hush now, Cécile,” Marc said. “You know my place is here.”

“But I don’t want to leave you behind,” I sobbed. I didn’t want to leave anyone. The lights of Trollus gleamed in swirling blurs as I tried and failed to focus my eyes. Then the city was gone and we were running through the labyrinth, Marc’s last words chasing behind us: “Goodbye, Princess.”

The twins were with us, Victoria ahead, Vincent behind. I half-listened to them talking as they navigated the dark tunnels and narrow crawlspaces, Tristan’s magic clutching me tight against him with every step he took. Then I dreamed of above. Above, above, with Tristan.

“It will be warm,” I whispered. “I’ll teach you to ride a horse and we will travel anywhere we like, you and I. No more monsters, nothing to separate us. We will be together forever.”

His lips brushed my forehead. “Hush, love. You know you must be quiet here.”

I fell asleep, and when I awoke, we were alone. “Where are Victoria and Vincent?” I asked. I tried to look around, but it hurt to move.

“They’re buying us time,” Tristan said.

“Surely they’ll come with us,” I said. “They’d like to go hunting and to travel about telling their jests to everyone.”

“Perhaps they’ll come later,” Tristan said.

I dreamed again, only this time it was of a place of such brilliance that my eyes stung if I gazed at any one thing for too long. The green of the grass beneath my feet, the red of the roses on the bush, the blue of the sky above. The colors were familiar, but somehow more vibrant than anything I’d seen before. The air was sweet on my lips, the faint breeze smelling of summer and spice. All around me danced folk with a beauty and grace beyond reason, their curious eyes glowing like jewels. Hair and skin of every color of the rainbow, their lithe bodies were dressed in mists that swirled with them as they danced circles around me.

“Who is she, who is she?” they sang with voices so sweet they brought tears to my eyes.

“A mortal dreamer,” one whispered, her fingers catching in my hair and yanking hard. They laughed and descended on me, sharp nails raking across my skin and driving me to my knees. I screamed, but when I tried to run, I found myself dancing instead.

“Dance with us, mortal,” they laughed. “Dance for eternity.”

“Stop.”

A voice thundered through the meadow, and all the creatures around me fell to their knees. I turned and flung a hand up to block the brilliant golden light radiating from the man standing in front of me. Through my fingers, I saw a woman at his side, her skin pale, hair an inky black and eyes the color of verdelite.

“She is consort to the mortal prince,” the man said, and the meadow filled with whispers. “Why are you here?”