A howl tore out of my chest, and I pressed my forehead against my hands, waiting for the sharp knife of death to carve my insides out and leave me empty as it had the moment I’d knelt before the guillotine.
But it did not come.
Tristan was furious and very afraid, but unharmed. So who had been shot?
Climbing to my feet, I eased cautiously down the dimly lit hall, stopping instinctively in front of a heavy door. Tristan was on the other side, but who was with him? Was it only Anushka, or did she have an accomplice? For all I knew, there could be a dozen of Marie’s guards standing in the room with her. Of a certainty, this was a trap, but it wasn’t one I could run away from.
But that didn’t mean I had to go in blind.
Hurrying down the hall, I tried the door of the adjoining room. It was locked. But the next one wasn’t. My heart racing, I ran through the dark chambers to one of the narrow windows on the far wall. It was less than a foot wide, but for once my short stature came in handy as I unlatched the glass and climbed up onto the windowsill.
Icy wind tore at my hair and dress, and my stomach clenched as I looked down. It wasn’t a horridly distant drop, but if I fell onto the bare stone below, my injuries would be grievous. The alternative was much worse, so I inched out onto the narrow ledge and cautiously eased my way toward the next window, my bare feet burning.
The snow crunched with each step I took, my fingers digging into the crumbling mortar between the heavy blocks of stone. My pulse thundered in my ears as I reached the window well; and clinging to the edge, I peered in with one eye.
It was a bedroom, both dark and empty, but through an open set of doors, I could see into the sitting room that adjoined it. Julian stood with his back to me, the gun he held leveled at Tristan’s head, indicating that Anushka had cut him off from his magic, because otherwise such a threat would be meaningless. My mother stood a few paces in front of him, smiling and gesturing with the silver pistol in her hand. And Sabine…
My throat burned with the hurt of betrayal as I watched my best friend fasten heavy chains to Tristan’s wrists and ankles, and then toss the key at my mother. It was only when she slumped to her knees next to his feet and pressed a hand to her shoulder that I saw the dark stain on her dress, and my hurt turned instantly to anger.
I needed to get inside that room.
I pressed a hand carefully against the glass, but it was latched from the inside. I could break it, but there was no chance they wouldn’t hear it. A glance over my shoulder revealed the moon shining full and bright. I was running out of time.
Then a flicker of motion caught my eye. Peering back in the window revealed the tiniest glimmer floating just inside the glass. It was my light!
Although to call it such was almost a lie, because it had faded almost into nothingness since my flight from Trollus. But it was now my only chance.
Ignoring the violent shivers threatening my grip on the ledge, I focused on the tiny bit of magic, Tristan’s words drifting through my mind: My magic is what I will it to be. It does what I will it to do… I’d coaxed it into brightening and dimming before, but never before had I tried to change the purpose Tristan had given it. I envisioned it as a force, like a finger hooking onto the latch and flicking it back. Beyond, I could not help but see Sabine slump against the carpets and feel the flash of panic from Tristan as he stood chained and powerless to help her.
With what seemed like reluctance, the magic drifted toward the metal latch, and my teeth chattered together as I willed it into action. I’d lost feeling in my toes, and my fingers were following suit. If this didn’t work, I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to make it back to the other window.
Click. The magic winked out, and I knew it was gone forever. But it had done enough.
Pressing my reddened fingertips against the glass, I began to push it in, but then stopped. The wind