As though anticipating the question, Tristan said, “I had a human friend, once. He was old and wore funny clothes. He always brought me candy and told me stories. He never treated me like I was a prince or even like I was a troll – he treated me like I was just a boy. My father killed him to punish me.” He lowered his head. “I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I was young and helpless against him. But I’m not anymore.”

Closing my eyes, I shuffled through his emotions. Fear. Shame. Doubt. And how did I feel about becoming an accomplice in a murder plot? I hated his father – he’d arranged for my kidnapping, ruined my life. To him, I was a tool here to serve a purpose, and ultimately, disposable. But could I stand by and see a man killed? I didn’t need to think long or hard. In this case, not only would I willingly stand by, I’d stick the knife in myself. If that made me a bad person, then so be it. But even with the King dead, one fundamental problem remained.

“The sympathizers,” I said. “They don’t just want to be rid of your father – they want to be rid of all the troll nobility so that there’s no one powerful enough left to lord over them. What’s to stop them from killing all your friends, all your family, other than the fact they need you to keep Forsaken Mountain off their heads?” Then the realization dawned on me: he was waiting until he was in power before breaking the curse. Not only would he be king, he’d be a hero to his people. I opened my mouth to say as much, but then snapped it shut again. Withholding freedom from a city full of people was certainly a dangerous secret, but knowing he was doing so did nothing to explain the purpose of his diagrams. “Well?” I finally asked.

He took a deep breath. “Are we in agreement then? You will tell me the location of all my papers in exchange for me explaining their contents?”

“Yes,” I said. What could be more important than the knowledge he was purposefully keeping the curse in place? “I agree.”

“You must understand: Marc, Anaïs, and the twins are the only ones who know. And I only trust them because I have their true…” He broke off. “Why I trust them is irrelevant. My point is, I have no such assurance from you.”

I said nothing. Telling him he could trust me wouldn’t make a difference. I could lie.

Tristan took a deep breath. “The documents contain the plans for building a structure that would support the rock.”

“No magic required,” I whispered.

“Not after I finish building it.”

“But to what purpose?” I demanded. “Once you are king, won’t you just do what is necessary to break the curse? With it gone, couldn’t you fling off all the rock, or… or, leave this place?”