Chapter Thirty-Four

Tristan

I’d seen Martin carrying Cécile in the direction of Trianon, but hadn’t stopped. There wasn’t time, and I trusted the librarian as much as anyone to get her to the relative safety of the city. Or at least I would have, if she’d remained unconscious. Now she was backtracking toward Trollus, and I didn’t have time to do anything about it.

Slipping under the overhang, I made my way up the River Road until I heard the sound of voices. “Searched the lake from back to front,” someone said. “No sign of her or the half-bloods she was going on about.”

“Maybe she snuck out for a nap,” replied another, and I recognized the voice as Guilluame’s.

“But you heard the noise!”

“Could’ve just been rocks falling into the lake. Tree’s been neglected of late.”

“But the lake was frozen solid.”

I coughed, interrupting the guards’ conversation. Not a one of the four had sensed my approach. “Excuse me.”

“Another blasted human,” one said, resting his elbows on the bars. “Go! If you seek shelter, you’ll find it in Trianon with Prince Tristan.”

“I’m afraid that’s no longer the case.” I pulled back the hood of my cloak, readying to duck and run if one of them attacked.

To their credit, none of them turned tail. The air went scalding hot as they linked their magic, the gate going cherry red and the surrounding rocks smoldering from the intensity of their shield. “I need to speak to my father.”

“Something’s not right,” said the female amongst them. “I can’t feel his power. We should’ve known he was coming a mile off.”

“It’s a trick,” Guilluame replied. “He’s a human disguised as Tristan.”

“That’s easy enough for you to check,” I snapped. There was only so much time, and I couldn’t afford a delay. “Either let me pass or send someone to fetch the King.”

The heat remained, their faces unconvinced.

“I’ve been deprived of my magic,” I said, sweat trickling down my back. “One of you should be more than sufficient to keep me in line, if that is your concern.”

“Go to the palace,” the female ordered the youngest of them. To the others, she said, “Let him in. We’ll keep him here until we have our orders.”

The glowing gate swung outward, and I gave it wide berth as I passed, not wishing to be burned. My skin stung from the radiant heat as it was, healing mortal slow without my magic. So strange to fear something so insignificant.

When I was through, the female pulled off her gauntlet and slapped a hand against my cheek, feeling for the presence of a disguise. “Nothing,” she said, her voice curious. “It’s him.”

“Deprived of your magic, you say.” Guillaume pulled off his helmet. “How’d that come to pass?”