Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(31)

Trolls and half-bloods grudgingly made way as I pushed through, not certain where I was going, but knowing I couldn’t stop. Then a familiar voice caught my attention.

“Be another week or two, I expect. Thaw was late this year.”

I started walking faster, my eyes searching until I found what I was looking for. A blond head amongst a crowd of black-haired trolls. Next to him was a mule I’d seen countless times before. But the shock of seeing him in Trollus was overwhelmed by the hope that he might somehow be my salvation. Snatching my skirts up, I broke into a run. “Christophe!” I shouted. “Chris!”

The blond-haired boy turned and his eyes widened in shock at seeing me. “Cécile?” I flung my arms around his neck. He smelled like horses and hay and sunshine – like everything I knew.

“God in heaven!” he gasped. “What are you doing here? Everyone is looking for you – we found your horse in our fields and signs of a struggle in the woods.”

“Luc took me,” I choked out, burying my face in his neck and inhaling the smell of home. “He sold me to them. You need to help me. You need to tell my brother. You need to take me home.” I was babbling, I knew, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Help me, Chris. Please!”

He grew still, his arms tight around my waist. Raising my face, I saw that all around us trolls were watching with angry faces. Albert pushed his way through the crowd, his face twisted with a dark scowl. Everyone backed away, giving him room.

“Get away from her, human,” he snarled.

Chris set me down between him and the wagon. “I don’t think so.”

“It wasn’t a request, stupid boy.” Albert stalked towards us, his smooth movement at odds with his bulk.

There was a commotion in the crowd and a soaking wet élise stepped through. She darted around Albert and hurried over to me.

“You must stop this madness, Cécile,” she gasped out, wet strands of hair clinging to her face. “You are going to get people killed!”

“Stay away from her, you nasty creature!” Chris swatted at élise. She ducked under his hand easily, but the damage was done.

Albert roared an inhuman word and Chris was launched up in the air, then slammed against the ground.

Shrieking, I grabbed hold of him, trying to stop the invisible force, but I was powerless against it. Both of us were shaken in the air like rag dolls in the mouth of a maniacal hellhound.

“Don’t hurt her!” élise shouted.

Abruptly, I was torn away from Chris and landed in a heap next to the wagon.

Chris remained locked in Albert’s magic, which now had him pressed hard against the paving stones.

“Let me go!” he bellowed, squirming ineffectually against his invisible bonds.

“Kill him!” someone in the crowd shouted. “He broke the laws!”

“Kill the human,” another chimed in. “Slit his throat!”

Chris’s oaths abruptly broke off, his face turning red. “I prefer smothering,” Albert said to the crowd with a smile. “Less mess.”

“It is the duty of the trade magister to pass sentence!” élise’s voice was strong. “You overstep your authority.”

“Stay out of this, élise,” Albert said. “I would not want to see you hurt.”

“What is going on here?” The crowd parted and Tristan sauntered over, pausing to pat the mule on the nose.

I flung myself at his feet. “Make them stop – they’re killing him.”

“I see that,” he said. “I assume he did something to deserve it. Guillaume?”

“Took a swipe at Miss élise, and,” he added, raising his voice, “he disrespected me.”

“Is that so?” Tristan raised one eyebrow. “One can hardly imagine why.”

“He…” the guard started to respond, but Tristan interrupted.

“Yes, yes, Albert. I believe you. Now would you mind…” He brushed at his mouth.

“Oh!” Albert dragged a sleeve across his face, removing most of the pink frosting. “Sorry, my lord.”

“Much better,” Tristan said. “It is always important to look the part when you are about to do something nefarious. You were really ruining the effect.” He ignored my attempts to get his attention. My eyes searched the crowd for someone, anyone, who might help. But all the half-bloods had retreated. I saw Chris’s father, hands balled into fists and eyes wide with fear. He stood at the edge of the crowd, but he wasn’t watching his dying son. He was watching Tristan.

“Who wants to see the human boy killed for his insolence?” Tristan shouted.

“Kill him!” the crowd shouted.

I reached for the dagger at his waist, intent on burying it in his gut if that’s what it took. He caught my wrist, holding it still.

“Who wants to see his blood run through the streets?” he shouted over their cheering voices.

“Kill the human!” they screamed.

“Who wants to suffer through another famine?”

Silence.

“Just as I thought,” Tristan said, his voice carrying through the crowd. The hand holding my wrist twitched and I heard Chris gasp behind me, Albert’s magic vanquished.