Coming back over to my side, Élise helped me to my feet, releasing the magic blocking sound as she did. Screams instantly attacked both our ears.

“Stones and sky,” I said, clinging to her arm. “What is going on out there?”

“I’ve no notion,” Élise said, her eyes wide. “We would have felt it if there had been another earthshake.”

We both jerked at the sound of an explosion, followed up with more screams and the sounds of running feet.

The door burst open followed by one of the miners. “Lord Roland is on the loose,” he panted. “He’s tearing apart the Dregs. You need to get out of here now.” His eyes fixed on Tips, who was only now rousing. “How in the…”

“There is no time for that now,” I snapped. “Take Tips with you. Get him somewhere safe. Élise, you help him.”

Not waiting for their answers, I bolted down the stairs. Roland was hunting half-bloods, I knew it. And who knew how many he would kill before someone powerful enough arrived to stop him. I needed to distract him, buy Tristan or Anaïs enough time to get here and for the half-bloods to flee. Roland wouldn’t hurt me – insane or not, he’d know that harming me would harm his brother. I was the only one close enough who had a chance of stopping him.

The lower level of the house was empty, but the streets were full of panicked half-bloods running for their lives. I fought against their flow, jostling against their greater strength while I ran towards the sound of screams. Then abruptly, I was alone, their footsteps fading into the distance behind me.

A young troll stood in the center of the road ahead of me, an older half-blood pinned to the ground at his feet. The half-blood screamed and thrashed, trying to escape, while the boy watched with interest.

“Your Highness!” The words were out of my mouth before I could think. “Lord Roland.”

The boy looked up, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. It was not the resemblance to Tristan – I’d expected that. What made me want to run as far and as fast away from this creature as I could were his eyes: they were cold, completely devoid of empathy or compassion. Or sanity.

“Hello, Cécile.” He cocked his head to one side, watching me with undisguised malevolence.

I curtseyed, my knees shaking. “You know who I am, then, my lord?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. You are the human that my brother Tristan is bonded to.”

“Yes, I am,” I said, his recognition not bringing any relief to my fear, because what was looking at me was utter evil.

“My foster father told me that Tristan loves you – is that true?”

I nodded, forcing myself to hold his gaze. The longer we talked, the more time the half-bloods had to get away. “And I love him.”

Roland scrunched his face up as though he had smelled something foul. “Well of course you do, that makes perfect sense.” He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “It’s him that I don’t understand.”