“Do you recognize them?” I asked. That had been one of the bigger unknowns. Victoria and Vincent had an idea of which trolls the Duke had recruited to his cause, but there was no way to know who had been sent to each village. Or how much power they had.

“The woman is Comtesse Báthory,” Victoria whispered. “Don’t be fooled by her performance – she’s the only member of the peerage the King’s ever banned from owning half-bloods.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to know. But it’s probably the reason she’s sided with Angoulême – he’s unlikely to stand in the way of her pastime. She’s not particularly lucid, but she’s powerful. Very powerful. The other two are minor lords – cousins to more important members of the aristocracy who are likely hoping a change in rule will put them in power.”

We watched them for another few minutes, then Victoria huffed out a frustrated breath, pointing a finger at Báthory. “It’s no good. They’ve been warned about you – look at the size of her footprints versus the size of her feet. She’s shielded herself against everything, not just steel.”

We’d expected that, given Revigny’s proximity to Roland’s current position, but I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nerves. Taking out the most powerful of the trio with my spells had been the original, and far less risky, plan. Now we had to try to get rid of Báthory another way. “I suppose that leaves us with plan B.”

Victoria patted my hand. “It’ll work. And perhaps Roland will take care of her for us – he does not handle disappointment well.”

I was less concerned about that, and infinitely more concerned about the friend I was about to put at risk.

A flicker of light caught my eye, and I squinted at the opposite side of the pass. “Vincent’s in position.”

Victoria returned the signal, then said, “Time to send out the bait.” She rested her chin on her forearms, and we hunkered down to wait.

It didn’t take long. Chris emerged from the trees on horseback, the armband bearing Roland’s modified colors of black, white, and red visible even from where we watched. He stopped, waiting for the three trolls to acknowledge him. Báthory had ceased dancing the moment she’d seem him, and with a lazy hand gesture, she beckoned him.

My heart was in my throat as he trotted forward, knowing there’d be no chance for him to escape if our plan went awry. Even if she fell for the trick, she was dangerous and unpredictable, and if she decided to harm him out of hand, there was little we could do to stop her. Not without revealing we had trolls helping us.

Chris dismounted in front of the woman, bowed low, and passed her the sealed letter. She plucked it out of his hand, strode a few paces away and scanned the contents. This was the moment of reckoning.

The twins, it had turned out, were fine forgers, and it was no difficulty for them to draft a letter in Anaïs’s hand, finished off with Roland’s looping signature – the key to our backup plan. The letter requested Báthory’s presence in Triaucourt immediately for a task that Roland felt required her particular skill set. “She won’t be able to resist,” Vincent had said, signing the document with a flourish, his magical pen disappearing the moment he was done. “She’ll be cautious in her journey, of course. She’s delusional, not stupid. But given that we want her to reach Roland, it hardly matters.”