of names and dates. “That’s why you were afraid for your mother – she’s next.” And then it would be Cécile’s turn.
“What about your sister?”
“Josette isn’t a witch.”
“But your mother is?”
Cécile hesitated. “I… Yes. I think she has the capability, but I don’t think she realizes it. Certainly, I’ve never seen her use magic.”
I wasn’t certain I agreed, but I refrained from pressing her. The question would keep.
She lifted a hand to her mouth and began nipping at one of her fingernails until I carefully pulled her arm down.
“If we stop her from killing my mother or me, she’ll lose her immortality. Then it will only be a matter of time.”
Because this mess needed another layer of complication. “For certain, we need to catch her,” I said. “What we do with her after… We can decide that later.”
“What do you propose?”
“We bait her out,” I said. Originally, my plan with Chris had been to use myself as the bait. Anushka would know who and what I was, and I did not think she’d stand idly by while I wandered free. But this was better.
“She needs you and your mother,” I said. “If word were to spread that I were involved with you, that I intended to take you two away from Trianon, she’ll be forced to act, and in doing so, will reveal herself.”
One of her eyebrows rose. “What precisely do you mean by involved?”
I shrugged. “This Marquis your mother dallies with is rich, but I’m much richer. What do you say, my dearest wife, of your taking on a patron?”
THIRTY-SEVEN
TRISTAN
“You’re late,” I said, stepping out from the copse of trees where I’d been waiting, Souris trailing along at my heels.
“You needn’t cry about it,” Chris replied, pulling the pair of grey horses to a halt on the road.
I tried to glare balefully at him, but I was certain the effect was ruined by the tears that were in fact streaming down my cheeks. The sun was wickedly bright, reflecting off the patches of snow and searing into my eyes.
“You’re like a mole that’s lost its hole.”
“I don’t know what a mole is,” I said, opening the carriage door and lifting the dog inside.
“It’s an animal that lives underground. Doesn’t see too well.”
“Then the comparison is apt.” I climbed up onto the seat next to him. I’d never ridden on a carriage before, and despite my discomfort, I was excited about the experience. The coats of the horses were shiny, and the mud splattered against their legs did nothing to detract from their sleek beauty. They seemed entirely different creatures from the plodding draft animals that pulled wagons full of grain into Trollus.
Everything was different from the world I knew, the smells and sounds terrible and wonderful in their unfamiliarity. I felt crowded by the press of life all around me, and yet almost glad my vision kept the true scope of the space from overwhelming my senses.
Chris flicked the reins and made a sort of clicking sound, and the horses surged forward, their harnesses jingling with each step they took. “I’m a bit surprised Cécile let you go through with this,” he said.
“Let me?” The carriage bounced in the frozen ruts of the road, jarring my spine.
Chris snorted loudly and slouched down on the wooden seat, seeming perfectly comfortable. “Don’t bother pretending we’d be here if she hadn’t agreed to it.” He cast a sideways glance at me. “You did tell her where we were going, didn’t you?”
“Of course I told her.”
“And?”
“She understands the necessity.”
Chris chuckled. “Got an earful, I expect.”
“I’d forgotten how loud she can be when she’s angry,” I admitted, bracing a foot against the floorboards to keep my balance. “Souris hid under the bed, and I was tempted to join him.”
“And yet here we are.”
Here we were, trotting down the road toward Trollus and a meeting that I was both looking forward to and dreading. My freedom should have been an advantage I had over my father, but instead it seemed like the opposite. I felt like I had never had less control, and I didn’t like it. I was worried about what had happened in Trollus after I left, about the precarious position in which I’d left my friends and comrades. My father wouldn’t harm them out of turn, but if I did not act in a way he wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against me.
“Do you think he’ll help?”
I wiped my face dry with an arm, careful not jar my wrists. “I