Fallen straight into Angoulême’s trap, and there was nothing we could do about it. This battle would be over in a matter of moments, and we were hours away. Tristan was on his own. Marc, Sabine, and all our friends in Trianon were on their own. There was nothing I could do to help.

“What are our options?” I asked, staring down at my boots. Melted snow was pooling around them, seeping in to chill my toes, but I couldn’t be bothered to move.

“If I travel light, I might be able to make it in time to do some good,” Victoria said.

I knew what travel light meant – without me. “Go,” I said. “Take Vincent. Run.”

“Cécile…”

“It’s not a request,” I snapped. “It’s a command. Go. Now.”

In a heartbeat, they were gone, leaving me alone with Chris and my grandmother.

“We always knew it would come down to a battle between trolls,” Chris said, taking my hand. “We’ve done what we can. Now we wait to see who wins.”

But his words were clipped, the muscles in his jaw standing out against his skin. Passiveness sat about as well with him as it did with me.

And it sat not at all well with my gran. “Enough of this defeatism,” she snapped. “Those are human beings surrounding Trianon and some of them are hurt. Which we can do something about. Pack your bag, Cécile. Chris, you saddle those horses, and be quick about it.”

We both gaped at her, but when she picked up a stick in a way that made it appear alarming like a switch, we scuttled in opposite directions to do her bidding.

“Where is Martin?” I asked, shoving my things into my satchel.

“Left while you two were whinging,” Gran replied, carefully packing the lobelia she’d gathered. “Said he was going to help.”

I didn’t know what he thought he could accomplish, but I said nothing. If he’d stayed, I could well imagine myself frozen in place, watching through a tiny portal while Tristan was slaughtered by his brother. Which did no good for anyone.

I stood and Gran moved with me, catching the front of my shirt and pulling me close. “No matter what happens to that boy, don’t you think about lying down to die, do you hear me?”

It was too easy to remember what it had felt like; the moment the sluag venom had pulled him away from me and all my will to live had vanished in an instant. How the cold press of the guillotine had felt like mercy.

“Do you hear me?” She jerked me closer with surprising strength for her frail frame. “It’s not just your life anymore.”