Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(78)

But no longer. Now I was certain that I’d sacrifice everything to save her.

The sound of footsteps caught my attention and I raised my head to see Marc coming towards me. A barrier of magic snapped up around us. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he asked. “I just saw Angoulême walking down the street looking like he’d been offered the keys to the treasure room.”

I grimaced and stared at the tops of my boots. “More like the crown itself. He saw me with Cécile.”

“What of it?” Marc retorted. “No one can expect you to avoid her completely.”

“In a compromising position.”

“Oh.” Marc’s voice softened. “I see.”

“He knows, Marc,” I said. “He’s always suspected where my true sympathies lie, but now he knows the way to force my hand. He’ll use her, mark my words.”


“And if he does?”

I swallowed hard and looked up at my cousin, my best friend. The only person in this world I trusted, and even he did not know all my secrets. “I didn’t think this would happen,” I pleaded. “I didn’t think I would care for her this way…” I broke off. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Marc said. “If you didn’t care about her life, then you wouldn’t be the man I thought you were.”

“It’s more than that.”

Marc chuckled. “Oh, I know. Trust me, I know. Now, where has she gotten off to?”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “She ran off. Angoulême told her I was having an affair with Ana?s.”

“But you’re not.”

“I know!” I snapped, my frustration rising. “But I couldn’t very well admit that in front of him.”

“Well, go find her now and tell her the truth!”

I raised my head, eyes drawn north towards the falls, her misery a magnet to my own. She must have run without stopping to be so far away.

Too far away.

I leapt to my feet.

“What is it? Has something happened?” There was alarm in Marc’s voice – he was fond of Cécile. He also knew better than most what would happen if she died.

My heart skittered and a wave of dizziness swept over me. “She’s in the labyrinth.”





CHAPTER 23





CéCILE





I jerked the gate open, locked it behind me, and broke into a run down the twisting corridors. My only hope now was speed.



I wasn’t afraid anymore, either. I was determined. The trolls would not catch me. The sound of the great waterfall faded in the distance and I was left with only the thud of my boots and the pant of my own breath. This was the easy part of my journey. These passages were the crumpled streets of abandoned Trollus, still smooth and easy to pass through. Once I reached the labyrinth proper, it would be a different story. It was with both relief and trepidation that I saw the narrow tunnel lying ahead, its opening black and menacing.

Dropping to my hands and knees, I shone my light inside, but it didn’t reach far enough to give me much comfort. I bit my lip and remembered what Marc had told me about the sluag. Sluag were neither stealthy nor cunning – if you listen, you will always hear them coming. I sucked in a deep breath and held it, listening. All I heard was the din of my heart. There was no telltale swish, swish and certainly not the thundering call of a sluag on the hunt.

I sat down on the cold stone floor, placing my light carefully on my lap, and I listened. To my mind, to my heart – call it what you will. I listened to Tristan’s emotions and tried to understand what he intended.

Desperation.

He had not, as I thought he would, instantly rounded up guards to track me down. The sharp pain I had felt under my ribs returned and I drew my knees up to my chest to try to ward it off. Tristan wasn’t coming. Disappointment chased away hope, and I forced myself to acknowledge the fact that I had hoped he would come after me. False hopes. Why shouldn’t he abandon me to the labyrinth? Whether I escaped or died trying, the result was the same – he would be free of me, the repulsive human. He’d be free to be with Ana?s. Able to claim that his aunt’s prophesy was nothing but ramblings and not worth taking seriously.

Fear.

That was there too, but of course it would be. His father would be angry that Tristan had allowed me to escape unbound by the oaths that kept Trollus secret from the outside world. But even the King’s anger would fade when they realized there would be no retribution from me. I just wanted to forget ever being here. I wanted to leave and let time wipe away the memory of Trollus and its people, and most of all, of Tristan.

Misery.

This was nothing new.

“I don’t care,” I whispered. “I refuse to care any longer.”

Sticking the leather handle of my light between my teeth, I got down on my belly and crawled into the tunnel.





CHAPTER 24





TRISTAN





“How?” Marc demanded. “It’s locked, and I have the only key.”



“She can pick locks,” I said, remembering our encounter in the corridor the night we were bonded.