The faces of both trolls snapped my direction, and I hunched down, holding my breath. Not that there was any point.

Magic wrapped around my waist, lifting me up and over the foliage, depositing me in front of the two women. “Why am I not surprised,” Sylvie said, crossing her arms. “We keep sending you away, but back you come.”

Queen Matilde’s eyes were wide, her full lips slightly parted. “Oh, Cécile, you look dreadful.” She shook her head. “This will not do.”

My scalp prickled, and seconds later, little bits of black rained to the ground. “Better,” she said, slender fingers plucking at one of my shortened curls, which was crimson once more. Pulling a pin from her own hair, she carefully twisted mine back from my face and smiled.

“Can’t remember what she had for lunch, but she can do that.” Sylvie’s face was sour. “Why are you here, Cécile? Thibault sent you to Trianon.”

“I didn’t go,” I said. “I had to come back.”

“Why is that?”

“Tristan’s here,” I blurted out. “He’s lost his magic.”

“What?” Sylvie barked even as Matilde exclaimed, “Where?” She rotated in a circle, eyes searching the gardens.

“Matilde, stand still!”

I swiftly explained as much as I could, along with my suspicion that it had been Winter who’d taken his power. “He walked in here of his own accord.” My eyes were burning, and I blinked furiously. “I think he’s given up and surrendered.”

Sylvie’s eyes lost focus, shifting back and forth as she delved into the problem, the expression eerily reminiscent of Tristan’s when he was deep in thought. “No,” she said. “He hasn’t. But he is about to make a mistake.”

The ground shook and I was flung against the corner of a stone bench. I fought the urge to curl up in pain, struggling instead to my feet. “Is it her? Is it Winter?” I gasped.

Magic lifted me up into the air. “Tell me what you see,” Sylvie ordered, lifting me higher and higher.

The air was filled with dust mixed with frost, and I coughed, covering my mouth with my sleeve as I peered toward the end of the valley. “There’s no one at the gate.” Other than the bodies of the guards.

She lowered me so swiftly, I might as well have fallen, my spine shuddering as my heels hit the ground. “Stay here,” she said; then to the Queen: “Matilde, find Thibault now. Hurry!”

In a blink, they were gone.

I stared in the direction they’d gone for another heartbeat, then I took off after them.

Keeping up with the troll queen was impossible, but she was heading toward the palace, so I took the shortest way I knew. There was probably nothing I could do to help, but Tristan was in there without any way to protect himself, whereas I still had magic. If Thibault or Matilde would lend their power, I suspected my spells would be just as affective against the Winter Queen as any troll.