Fred took a step back, bumping into his horse. “Cécile?”
I looked down, realizing with horror that my little knife was in my hand, blade extended. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, letting it slip from my fingers and into the snow. “I’m so sorry, Frédéric. You need to stay away from me.”
Spinning around, I hurried in the opposite direction, my breathing ragged. I was not in control of myself – that I’d been willing to harm my own beloved brother was proof. And it made me doubt every decision I’d made and action I’d taken since that fateful night on the beach. How much of this was what I wanted? How much was what the troll king wanted? Fear careened through my heart, because I was no longer certain of what I was capable of. Because I was starting to wonder if there was no line I couldn’t be driven across.
An arm wrapped around my head, and a damp cloth reeking of herbs and magic clamped across my face.
“I’m sorry, Cécile. I’m so sorry for this,” my brother whispered into my ear. “But it’s the only way I can help you.”
Then there was nothing.
TWENTY-NINE
CÉCILE
I awoke, not with a start, but in a slow and arduous climb to consciousness. Footsteps thudded over my head – but it took a few moments of blinking at the gapped floorboards to realize I was lying on the dirt floor of a cellar, my feet and wrists bound and a rag stuffed in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but the effort made me gag, which made my eyes water. My nose started running, and breathing became a challenge, little bubbles of snot forming, breaking, then dripping down my cheek. It was horrible, but so very fitting.
My brother had betrayed me.
That he believed he was acting in my best interests didn’t ease the hurt, because he’d still taken away my freedom to make my own choices and my ability to do what I believed was right. I was Tristan’s only hope, and he was the half-bloods’ only chance at a better life, and I felt in my gut that I’d been so close to making a breakthrough in my hunt. Now everything was lost.
Above, I could hear the sound of weight shifting on a chair, and the measured step of another person pacing across the floor. Neither of the people spoke, but then the tick tick of a dog’s toenails caught my attention, and I knew where I was. Lifting my head as much as I could, I peered into the darkness of the cellar, the familiar table and shelves stacked with oddities faintly visible in the dim light. My heart sank: this was Catherine’s cellar. It had been her magic that had allowed my brother to subdue me. Another betrayal.
I wondered if she had been duping me from the beginning – whether it had been no coincidence that she’d crossed paths with Sabine and that I’d ended up on her doorstep. Had it all been an act to lure me in and gain my trust, and if so, did that mean my brother had been involved from the beginning? He’d said the Regent knew everything, but why go through such an elaborate process when they could just as easily have arrested me and forced the information out?
Fred had said they wanted to help me get free of the trolls, which certainly implied a desire to keep them contained. But if that was what the Regent wanted, why not just kill me and be done with it? What possible reason could he have for keeping me alive?
The rear door to the shop opened and slammed shut, heavy boots thudding across the floor.
“My lord. I expected you sooner.” I tensed at the sound of my brother’s voice, my ears peeled for the reply. It was Lord Aiden he was speaking to, I was sure of it.
“I had to ensure I wasn’t followed. The moment the trolls realize she’s missing, they’ll have every agent on the Isle looking for her. Did she have the book on her?”
“It was in her bag with some other papers. Lists of names and dates.”
“Good. Without it, we have nothing. Catherine, I assume you’ve taken precautions to ensure she can’t use magic to contact her friends?” His voice was familiar. I knew it – had heard it before. But where?
“She’s bound and gagged,” the witch replied in an emotionless voice. “The spell will keep her asleep for some time