“It’s Your Majesty, now. Although I suppose Roland might contest my claim.” Tristan’s tone was light, but Chris seemed to sense that congratulations were not in order.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, taking a swig of a wine skin before passing it to Tristan. “I’ve trouble enough finding hats to fit your ego as it is.”

Then they all turned expectantly to me. “What’s the plan?” I asked. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you tell us where we’re going,” Tristan responded.

Unease prickled over my skin. “Didn’t Martin tell you…” I trailed off.

“Martin isn’t here,” Tristan said, then turned to Vincent and Victoria, who both shook their heads.

“He was with me when we learned what had happened to you,” I said, setting aside my cup. “He was supposed to come here and tell you where Angoulême’s hiding – your family’s tombs,” I added, glancing at Tristan. “I gave him directions to find the twins and told him the signals to use.”

“I don’t know this Martin fellow,” Chris said. “But given he’s never been outside of Trollus, there is every possibility he’s wandering around lost in the woods.”

“Or that he’s run afoul of someone he shouldn’t have, and they know our location,” Vincent said, scratching his arm. “We may need to move our camp.”

They all argued about where Martin might be and what he might be doing, but I barely heard them, my ears full of a strange ringing.

Tristan touched my arm. “Cécile?”

My mouth was dry. “He was in love with Élise.”

Tristan hissed softly between his teeth, and everyone went silent.

“I promised him revenge,” I said. “That you would see Angoulême dead for what he did to her.”

“And in discovering I’d lost my magic, he likely believes he’s the only one left to deliver that revenge.” Tristan rattled off a string of profanity. “We need to go. Now. Cécile, you are sure this is where the Duke is hiding?”

I explained how Martin and I had come to the conclusion based on Lessa’s words.

Victoria rubbed her chin, eyes on the map Chris had spread flat. “Makes sense. The tombs are deep in the mountains and are easily defended.”

“And difficult to reach, as I recall.” Tristan pressed a gloved finger against the map. “One needs magic – or significant climbing skills – to reach them. It isn’t a place you just stumble upon. Chris, can you guide us there?”

My friend nodded. “I’ll ready the supplies. Who’s going?”

“Us three and you,” Tristan replied, then he chewed on his bottom lip.

I was about to voice exactly what I thought about being left behind, when he added, “And Cécile.”