“There was a reason no fey of ice and snow were trapped in your miserable world,” she said. “I protect my people. I keep them safe.” Bending over, she kissed my forehead, and it was all I could do not to scream in pain. “And now, Winter is once again in power.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” I said the words between my teeth. Please don’t let me be too late.

“I can send you back.” She sat on her heels, the ice disappearing from my wrists and ankles. “The sluag are mine. Their power is my power. I can bring you back to life.” She licked her lips, her tongue silvery and forked. “For a price.”

I’d give her anything. I knew it. She knew it. “Name it.”

“A life-debt,” she said, rising to her feet and drawing me to mine. “To be called at a time of my choosing.”

If it ever came to pass that she and I stood face to face once more, she could ask anything of me, even to take my own life. But what choice did I have? “Done.”

“And one more thing,” she purred. “You will agree never to speak of what I have told you. To anyone.”

“Fine,” I said, knowing that somehow, I was getting the worst of this bargain. “Now bring me back to life.”

“It will be done.”

And before I could say another word, I fell back into blackness the only sound her voice. “Goodbye, mortal prince. For now.”

“Tristan!”

I blinked, Sabine’s face inches from mine, her eyes wild with panic. “They’re here,” she screamed, and with impressive strength, dragged me towards the stairs.

Up and up we went, then out the door and she was pointing out over the city.

My eyes tracked that direction, and there was no mistaking the cause of her fright. The streets of Trianon were full of troll-lights. Hundreds of them. And they were coming this way.

Chapter Twenty-One

Cécile

“She’s dead.”

The answer fell out of my mouth, and I immediately wished I could take it back and deliver it in a way that wouldn’t cause my sister’s eyes to fill with tears, her chin to tremble. As if there were such a way. Joss had disliked Genevieve, but she’d still been her mother.

“How? Was it the witch? Anushka?”

I swallowed hard. “She was Anushka.”

Silence.

“You killed her.”

“I had to. It wasn’t her. Our real mother was already dead.” I was babbling. None of what I said made any sense, but I couldn’t seem to piece together a sentence that would do what I intended. “It was the only way.”

“To free them?”

“Yes.”

She shoved me, and I landed hard on my bottom.

“You don’t understand,” I said. “Let me explain.”