“Be silent, no matter what you hear,” I whispered, then I got to my feet, even as I heard a familiar clink of metal coming from Cécile’s cell.

The heavy door tore from its hinges, flipping end over end until it smashed against the end of the hallway with a reverberating crash. “I see you’ve been practicing,” I said, inclining my head to the Queen of Winter and praying Marc had bargained well.

She scowled, face fixed in the visage she’d worn when last I’d seen her. Magic slammed me against the rear of my cell, and I forced a groan into a laugh. “Careful now, I’m feeling fragile, and it would do neither of us any good if you were to accidentally kill me.”

“What makes you believe it would be an accident?” she hissed, grabbing me by the shirt and jerking me forward until we were separated by mere inches.

“Because you wouldn’t have risked coming here if there were anyone else capable of releasing you from this burden,” I said, prying her fingers loose one by one. Physically, I was stronger than her, and that was a very good thing.

Her lip curled. “Take it back. You may consider it a gift.”

I straightened my shirt. “No.”

Magic flexed in the air, and I held up one hand to stall her. “Not as a gift, but I will take it back in exchange for something from you.”

“You have no ground to stand on,” she said, lifting her chin. “You either take it or I kill you.”

“You give me what I want,” I said, “Or you remain bound to this world as surely as any troll.” It had been one of the gambles I’d made stepping outside of the safety of the castle walls. One, that couched in her offer of support was the desire to see all my kind dead before my uncle could put us to use. Two, that if I eliminated grounds for an alliance – which she intended to use as a guise for killing off as many trolls as possible – she’d take my magic to do the job herself. Three, that in taking my magic into herself, which was as corrupted by iron as was my flesh, she’d be bound to this world. Corporeal, and vulnerable.

She hesitated, and I added, “Time flows different in Arcadia than it does here. How long have you been gone from your throne? Do your people still owe you their allegiance, or have you been replaced? Have you lost the war?”

Silence. “What is it that you want?”

“Your oath that you and yours will never venture into this world again.”

She snorted. “Your boldness undermines your cleverness, troll. Let’s see how well you bargain while the witch bleeds.”

Winter wrenched open Cécile’s cell door; but out of the darkness swung heavy steel shackles, one of them catching the Queen hard across the cheek, slicing it open. Blood poured down the fairy’s cheek as Cécile stepped out of her cell, her face tight with focus as she bound the Queen’s magic. My magic.