Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(2)

“Hundredth time’s the charm.” Taking hold of her arm, I tugged her in the direction of the stables. “I need to hurry back to the farm. Gran needs these eggs for the cake she’s baking for my going away party tonight.”

Sabine’s face fell.

“I did invite you,” I reminded her. “You can come back with me, if you like. Spend the night. The coach will have to pass through town on the way to Trianon, so it would be easy enough to drop you back in the morning,” I said casually, as though I traveled by hired coach every day of my life.

“I know…” She looked down. “But my ma took the gig to the Renard farm. She said not to expect her till the morning.”

I made a face, not bothering to suggest she saddle her pony and ride with me. Sabine was terrified of horses. Bloody stones and sky, why hadn’t I thought ahead this morning and hitched Fleur to the buggy instead of riding to town? And where on God’s green earth was my brother? Frédéric was supposed to have arrived from Trianon hours ago. Sabine might have conceded to ride behind him, if only because she’d fancied him since time eternal.

“I can’t help but think this is the last time we’ll see each other,” Sabine said softly, interrupting my thoughts. “That once you’re in Trianon with your mother, performing and going to all those parties, you’ll forget about the Hollow. And me.”

“That’s utter foolishness,” I declared. “I’ll be back so often to visit, you’ll be right sick of me. You know Frédéric comes back whenever he has leave.”

“He hasn’t been back since the new year.”

It was true that since Fred’s most recent promotion to second-lieutenant, he’d found less opportunity to visit. “Then I’ll ride by myself.”

“Oh, Cécile.” Sabine shook her head. “You can’t be doing that anymore – it’s unladylike. People will talk.”

“But it’s in your best interest,” I reminded her. The stable boy was leading Fleur towards us, but I found myself not wanting to leave. Sabine and I had been best friends our whole lives, and the thought of not seeing her every day formed a cold pit in my stomach.

“I’ll ride home, give Gran the eggs, and then hitch up the buggy and come back for you,” I decided. “Go put on your blue dress. I’ll be back in no time at all.”

She bit the ends of her hair. “I don’t know…”

I caught her gaze for a long moment. “You’re going to come back with me in the buggy and attend my party,” I said firmly.

Sabine’s eyes went blank, and for a heartbeat, everything came into sharp focus for me. The sounds of the market. The solid earth beneath my feet. A breeze rushed past us, ruffling Sabine’s hair. She smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Nothing a bit of willpower couldn’t accomplish.

Swinging into the saddle, I twitched the reins to calm my frisking horse. “I won’t be more than an hour. Watch for me!” One hand clutching the basket of eggs, and the other the reins, I dug in my heels and galloped out of town.





Our farm was close enough to the Hollow that we were almost considered town folk, but far enough that the smell of pigs didn’t offend the noses of those less used to country life. I could have galloped the entire way there, but I let Fleur stop and catch her breath about halfway. Her hooves thudded softly against the damp earth as we walked down the road. The smell of pine was thick in the air and a cool breeze rushed down from the mountains, blowing my long red hair out behind me.



A flash of movement caught my eye, and I stopped, scanning the forest to either side of the road. Bears and mountain cats were common enough around here, but if the horse had scented a predator, she’d have been uncontrollable. The wind gusted through the trees and I thought I heard the crackle of breaking underbrush, though I couldn’t be sure. My pulse quickened, a prickle of anxiety running down my spine. Highwayman? Robbery wasn’t common this far north of the Ocean Road, but it was possible.

“Hello?” I called out, gathering up the reins. “Is someone there?”

No answer, but anyone intending to rob me was unlikely to reply. My trepidation grew. I’d ridden this road rain, snow, and shine, and never felt a moment’s fear before. Fleur pranced beneath me, sensing my anxiety.

The wind rose again, no longer gentle, but like angry fingers tugging at my hair. The sun ducked behind a cloud, turning the air chill. My eyes unconsciously turned to Forsaken Mountain, looming in the distance. I was halfway between home and town, but Jér?me Girard’s farm was nearby. I could ride there and ask his son Christophe to accompany me the rest of the way.

But what if he laughed at me for being such a ninny, scared of noises in the underbrush that were probably from a squirrel or a snake? Despite a lifetime proving to the contrary, everyone acted like I was already a city girl, and this would only prove their point. I circled and stared back the way I came. I could ride back and wait for my brother, but what if something had kept him in Trianon and he wasn’t even coming?

I’ll gallop home, I decided. Let whoever’s lurking in the woods try and catch me. Turning Fleur around, I abruptly hauled on the reins. The basket slipped from my hand and smashed against the ground, yellow yolks mixing with the mud.