to him, and if so, bringing it out into the open could be his undoing. And I needed him.
“I would speak with you alone,” I said softly enough that only he and Marc could hear.
Tips wiped the sweat off his brow. “No…” he replied, the word sounding like he’d torn it out of his chest. “Anything that needs saying can be said in front of my crew. I trust them.”
With his life? Because if what I suspected was true, his life would be very much in jeopardy. I’d have to speak to him about it later.
“I accepted your criticism of my previous actions. Of my… duplicity,” I said instead, leaning heavily on the word. “And have since dealt with you honestly and in good faith. I would have the same from you, should we agree to conspire together against my father.”
“A fair demand.” Tips closed his eyes for a long moment, and I watched his throat move as he swallowed hard. “We’ll need a moment.”
I nodded. Tips crutched over to where his crew stood, said a few words to Vincent, who started in our direction. Then one of the half-bloods erected a flimsy shield and they all began to talk in earnest.
“Why did you do it?” The words all but exploded out of Marc’s lips.
“Without free will there can be no equality, and while I held the power of your names, your will was always within my control.”
“But at what cost?” he demanded.
There was a wild tension about him, and I could feel the heat of magic ebbing and flowing through the tunnel. “How much it cost me?” I asked, then paused, realizing the true source of his anger. “Or how much it cost you?”
Marc spun away from us and slumped against the tunnel wall, his face entirely hidden by shadows. “It is all undone.” I had not heard such despair in his voice in a very long time. Not since the days following Pénélope’s death.
Vincent caught hold of my arm, concern making him squeeze hard enough that it hurt. “What’s happening to him?”
I’d never considered this consequence. No troll I’d ever heard of had given up the power of another’s name, so I’d undertaken the task without complete understanding of the ramifications. And they’d been far greater than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t only given up the power to command them in the future, I’d undone the power of any commands uttered in the past. And there was no one that affected more than my cousin.
“We’ve decided.” Tips’s voice drifted down the tunnel toward us.
“Cursed timing,” I swore, exchanging a panicked look with Vincent.
Tentatively, I reached out and rested a hand on Marc’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I said under my breath. “I didn’t know this would happen.”
He didn’t respond, but the rock he was gripping with one hand began to crumble.
“Your Highness?” There was heat in Tips’s tone. “Lost interest in us already?”
I ignored him. Marc was more important. “Does your word still hold?” I hissed.
His hood jerked up and down once, and a modicum of relief flooded through me. “Can you hold yourself together while I finish this? After, I’ll think of something.”
He didn’t respond.
“Marc!” I clenched his shoulder. “Answer me.”
Slowly, he turned his head so that I could see one eye. It was coated with a thin layer of blood, the vessels breaking under pressure and reforming in an instant. I wanted to recoil away from that gaze, but I didn’t let myself.
“You chose,” he said, his voice thick with animosity. “Do not squander what you have gained.”
His words were a punch to the gut, driving away my breath. Was this always to be my destiny? Hurting those who mattered most with my failed efforts to make the right choices? “I’m sorry.”
“Get on with it.”
I turned numbly back to the half-bloods, only a lifetime of practice allowing me to wipe away all traces of what I was feeling. Tips and his crew were watching us with interest, aware that something had occurred during their discussions, but uncertain what.
“What is your decision?” I asked, finding it hard to care with my cousin rapidly losing his mind behind me.
Tips didn’t hesitate. “We’re with you.” He gestured at his crew. “All of us.” They nodded in agreement. “But as for the rest of the half-bloods… That will take time. They aren’t the most trusting these days.”
My relief at his words felt small and inconsequential. “Until we know more about my father’s plans, we dare not act,” I said. “We’ve got time.