For all he was mad, Roland wasn’t stupid. I didn’t dare mention that if he went through with our scheme, that Angoulême wouldn’t last long in the land of the living: Marc was certain the Duke would have set triggers in the boy’s mind to attack anyone who threatened his master. I didn’t have to say anything – Roland knew as well as anyone that Angoulême had many enemies who would take advantage of his vulnerability.

“If I did this, I’d be king of nothing,” he eventually said.

My hands shook as I debated my response, then I crossed my fingers and said, “You’re already king of nothing. Angoulême rules. But you can take that away from him, if you want.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trick,” he said. “How do I know you aren’t lying, and that this isn’t an elaborate scheme to try to kill me?”

I nodded at Martin, who stepped through the tear. “She’s telling the truth, Your Majesty,” the librarian said. “Cécile took the iron from me, and now I can travel back to Arcadia. She will do the same for you, if you wish it.”

“Why?” Roland demanded of me. “I’ve harmed you. Killed your kind. And I…” His throat convulsed. “I killed my brother, to whom you were bonded.”

“And I hate you for it,” I said. “But you are Tristan’s brother, and he loved you for all your faults. For him, I will do this.”

Roland stared at me for a long time, seeing but not, and then he nodded. “Come meet me here and do the spell now, he will notice if I am gone for much longer. Come alone, and Cécile…”

“Yes?” I was so afraid. So terribly afraid.

“Mind your words. If you say the wrong thing, it will not go well for you.”

Following Martin’s directions, I walked on silent feet through the darkened woods, my body twitching at every rustle in the blackness. Marc was watching, but he couldn’t come close for fear of Roland sensing him, his primary goal to prevent Angoulême or Lessa coming upon us mid-spell. Martin had gone to update the twins, and they were to retreat if they could and engage with Angoulême’s camp when the rest of his followers arrived.

“Breathe,” I told myself. “Just breathe.”

Then magic had me by the hair and I was hurtling through the trees, branches lashing at my body as I passed. I tried to scream, but my jaw was locked shut, invisible rope twisting around my wrists and ankles. I landed heavily in a pile of snow, then small hands were on me, ripping through my pockets and tearing at my clothes before shoving me aside to inspect my bag.

Roland appeared in my line of sight, and smiled. “Can’t be too careful – I know all about your spells.”