“Any luck?” I asked Chris, accepting his offer of an arm to steady my still wobbly knees.

He shook his head. “Not sure if he’s not talking because he can’t or he won’t, but Vincent hasn’t been able to get a word out of him.”

Given what had happened with Albert, I wasn’t entirely surprised, but part of me had still hoped that we might have gained at least a clue as to where Angoulême was hiding. “I want to try something.”

Along with Anushka’s grimoire, I’d packed small amounts of the herbs required to perform certain spells, and I took out several of those now, setting them on the snow next to our troll captive. He eyed them nervously, muscles flexing as he tested the magic binding him.

“I need a bit of your blood,” I said. “This will sting.” Pushing up the sleeve of his coat, I cut across his forearm, ignoring his sharp intake of breath as I held a clay bowl under the stream of blood. Picking up a handful of snow, I tossed it in where it melted instantly, then added the herbs.

“Fire?” Victoria asked.

“No.” Dipping a finger into the mixture, I marked his forehead and then my own. Then I tossed the rest of the bowl’s contents up in the air. Little droplets hung suspended like a cloud of rubies, then they began to swirl between me and the troll. I closed my eyes.

His thoughts came in little flashes. A troll woman smiling. A sword. The waterfall in Trollus.

“She’s in my mind,” the troll screamed, but I tuned him out and focused. Roland.

The troll prince appeared, himself, but twisted, as though the troll’s mind saw him for the monster he was. “I will rule,” he screamed. “I will rule.”

Other trolls were on their knees in front of him, and one of them said, “Death to Thibault! Death to Tristan!”

Roland leapt to his feet, spittle flying from his mouth. “You do not touch my brother!”

The offending troll exploded into bloody mist, and I recoiled, unable to separate the remembered screams from the screams happening outside my shuttered eyes. Angoulême.

The Duke appeared, cane balanced between both hands. “Those who serve our cause will be rewarded. Lands, titles, power – it will all be yours. Will you swear?”

“Yes.”

I pulled away from the thought, afraid of triggering one of the Duke’s oaths. Where is he?

Anaïs. Lessa appeared, dressed in her armor, arms crossed. “All contact with my father will happen through me, do you understand?”

I pressed harder. Where is he?

Mountains flashed across my vision, their white peaks glittering in the sun.

“Cécile, stop!” Someone was shaking me, but I ignored them. I had to find where the Duke was hiding. Lives depended on it.

What are his plans?

The light of the mountainscape turned to darkness. But I could hear the Duke’s voice, “Thibault dies first, then…”

Pain lanced through my skull and I severed the connection, falling back into Victoria’s arms. “What happened?”