I skidded on hands and knees toward the surf, my wrists trembling as I tried to find enough leverage to keep those thousands of people from plunging to their deaths. An icy wave struck me in the face, but I managed to turn and stop my slide with my heels, edging backwards as I sank a series of pillars into the ocean depths to hold the bridge up.

But it wasn’t enough.

Water hammered the length of it, the strength of the sea dragging my bridge back and forth, waves cresting to push at the skiffs, forcing me to grab them with fingers of magic to keep them in place. But for all my efforts, there were overturned craft in the water. It wouldn’t be long until bodies washed up on the shore.

And Roland was coming.

Get up, I ordered myself, staggering to my feet. I could feel the weight on the Trianon end lightening; the familiar brush of Marc’s magic as he lifted the skiffs off the bridge. But he wasn’t moving quickly enough. Not even close.

I couldn’t run. If Roland got between me and the bridge, it would be child’s play for him to cut the flows holding it up. This was where I would make my stand.

It wasn’t long before my brother stepped out of the trees, Angoulême at his side. Roland’s eyes looked dead, but the Duke’s were full of fury. He knelt next to his mother’s body and touched her cheek, and any thought I might’ve had that he’d set her up to die was chased away.

“If Cécile survives your death, I’m going to find her and make her wish she hadn’t,” he hissed, rising to his feet. He shoved Roland hard between the shoulders. “Kill him and take the crown. Make yourself King of Trollus and ruler of the Isle of Light.”

The words acted like a trigger, delight washing across my brother’s face. Then he attacked.

The first blow made my shield shudder; the second radiated through my limbs, making my body ache. I couldn’t do both, couldn’t hold all those lives out of the water while holding back my brother. One more, I told myself, one more, and you’ll have done all you can.

The impact sent me staggering, and the magic behind me collapsed. I swore I could hear the screams of the drowning over the pounding of the waves.

Roland laughed, and magic whirled toward me like a storm. I braced, putting all the might I had at my disposal into a counterblow. The strength that had held up Forsaken Mountain. That had quelled my enemies. That had allowed me to walk through fire and ice unscathed.

It was not enough.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Cécile