The crack was deafening, like a hundred pistols firing simultaneously, but for a second, it seemed a sound without cause. Then one of the mountain slopes began moving.

At first it appeared a single sheet of snow was sliding, then it tumbled and crumbled, clouds of white rising up into the air as it roared down with deadly force. The gazebo blinked out of sight and the trolls raced toward the opposite slope, one significantly faster than the other.

The avalanche slammed into the barrier that had surrounded the town, destroying or burying it, I couldn’t tell which, and then it overtook the slower troll. Snow burst up high as he tried to shield himself, but the earth’s might battered his efforts and he disappeared from sight. The faster troll made it partially up the opposing slope before turning. I imagined how he felt: the moment of relief when he believed he had cheated death. Then a tall figure stepped out of nothingness and clamped a hand on the smaller troll’s shoulders.

We had our prisoner.

It took several hours for Victoria and me to deliver Revigny to its new location, explain the situation to the villagers, and secure their cooperation. The journey to the rallying point took far less time – all of which I spent with my eyes squeezed shut – thanks to Victoria’s fearlessness and a magic sled.

“Any luck?” I asked Chris, accepting his offer of an arm to steady my still wobbly knees.

He shook his head. “Not sure if he’s not talking because he can’t or he won’t, but Vincent hasn’t been able to get a word out of him.”

Given what had happened with Albert, I wasn’t entirely surprised, but part of me had still hoped that we might have gained at least a clue as to where Angoulême was hiding. “I want to try something.”

Along with Anushka’s grimoire, I’d packed small amounts of the herbs required to perform certain spells, and I took out several of those now, setting them on the snow next to our troll captive. He eyed them nervously, muscles flexing as he tested the magic binding him.

“I need a bit of your blood,” I said. “This will sting.” Pushing up the sleeve of his coat, I cut across his forearm, ignoring his sharp intake of breath as I held a clay bowl under the stream of blood. Picking up a handful of snow, I tossed it in where it melted instantly, then added the herbs.

“Fire?” Victoria asked.

“No.” Dipping a finger into the mixture, I marked his forehead and then my own. Then I tossed the rest of the bowl’s contents up in the air. Little droplets hung suspended like a cloud of rubies, then they began to swirl between me and the troll. I closed my eyes.

His thoughts came in little flashes. A troll woman smiling. A sword. The waterfall in Trollus.