Magic came from all directions, intensified by the moon and the solstice, and I pressed my hand to the injury, feeling the power flood into her and the wound knit beneath my hand.

Then it was over. Sabine remained unconscious, but her breathing was steady and her pulse even. Wiping my hands on my ruined costume, I slumped against Tristan, fingers gripping his shoulders as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

"Why did you do it?" Tristan's heart beat rapidly where my ear pressed against his chest, and one of his hands slipped up into my hair, gently cupping the back of my head.

"She was going to kill me in the hopes you'd die too."

"That wasn't my question." He caught my face in his hands and tipped it up. "I could have stopped her without killing her. I would have."

"I know." And I might still come to regret the choice. "a.n.u.shka was telling the truth when she said she didn't break the mountain," I said, seeing my memory of her memories though my eyes were wide open. "It was the mines, and the trolls knew it."

"Then..."

"Alexis treated her better than he did his own wife." I turned my head so I could see a.n.u.shka. She was a murderer, but then, so was I. "She had his child within days of the mountain's collapse; and I think until that point, she believed none of the laws, customs, or beliefs of the trolls applied to her. That she was queen in his eyes, so their daughter would be a princess, or at least treated like one."

My eyes burned as I remembered the way he had looked at the baby. The life of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d half-blood destined for servitude means nothing... "That was not how it came to pa.s.s."

"She plotted and planned to flee with the child once there was a way out of Trollus, but Queen Lamia had other plans for her. She hated a.n.u.shka. When they were hours away from freedom, Lamia killed the baby right in front of her."

Tristan's breath caught in his chest, but he said nothing.

"Alexis refused to do anything to punish Lamia. Not because he didn't think she deserved it, but because doing so would harm himself. She killed him for his weakness, but she cursed the trolls as revenge against Lamia. What the Queen wanted more than anything was to see her children rule the world, and all a.n.u.shka wanted was to take that dream from her." Some punishments are worse than death...

"You think she was wrong to kill them?" There was incredulity in Tristan's voice.

I shook my head. "She deserved that revenge, but..." I struggled to find the words to explain what I'd seen and how I felt. "She is not a G.o.d to condemn an entire race for an injustice she alone had suffered. And I could not live with myself for leaving our friends to die because I was too weak to do what was needed."

My words were strong, but my skin already crawled at what I had done. A decision made in an instant that would change life as we knew it. If the world burns, its blood will be on your hands...

A slow, measured thud filled my ears like a vast drum beat by giant hands. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Tristan's whole body stiffened, his arm tightening around me and making it hard to breathe. "No. Not yet."

"What is it?" I demanded, his fear ratcheting up my own.

A scream like nothing I had ever heard rent the stillness of the night, piercing my ears and making my heart beat in the rapid, primal way of the hunted.

Clambering to his feet, Tristan pulled me along with him to the window and we both stared out into the night. A strange shadow flew across the sky, pausing in front of the glowing moon on wings as vast as a ship's sails. Something so vast it defied reason. A creature that could not possibly exist outside of fairy tale and legend.

Just like the trolls...

Horror flooded my veins as I watched the dragon furl its wings and dive toward Trianon, and seconds later, all too real human screams cut through the night.

What had I done?

Fifty-Eight.

Cecile

Swearing under his breath, Tristan went back to the other room and scooped up Sabine, depositing her on the bed. "She'll be as safe here as anywhere," he said. "The castle walls are rimmed with steel the dragon won't be able to breach the perimeter."

"What do we do?" I said, pulling one of the blankets off the bed and draping it over a.n.u.shka's corpse, more to spare Sabine the sight than out of any sentiment. The woman was nothing to me. "How do we stop it?"

Tristan picked up the knife and pistol from the blood-soaked carpet and handed them to me. "We don't. I do. Keep a steel weapon on you at all times those who come will have even less tolerance for the metal than a troll. Stab one while it is corporeal, and you'll likely kill it."

"I don't know what that means." I followed him into the corridor, trotting to keep pace with his long stride.

"If it takes a shape." He stopped in his tracks and gripped my shoulders. "I should have told you more before, but I did not believe they'd come so soon. They must have been watching." He took a deep breath. "There is too much to explain, and we've no time for it. Stay within the castle walls, and you'll be safe."

I nodded in understanding if not agreement, as I had a sinking suspicion that he had no intention of remaining safely behind walls.

We ran toward the front of the castle and out into the darkness of the night. The torch flames danced wildly with the force of the wind, the sudden thick snow descending from the sky, carpeting the ground. It was painfully, unnaturally cold, and I would have retreated back if not for the warmth of Tristan's magic wrapping around my body.

The gates were closed, and the walls were lined with guards too fixated on the monster flying above the city to notice anyone coming up from behind them. "Open them," Tristan demanded once we reached them.

"Are you mad?" one of the guards replied, eyes wild. "Do you know what's out there?"

"Open the gates!"

I turned to see Lord Aiden striding towards us, but there was something about his voice that seemed... off. "Cecile," he added under his breath, and gave me a wink as he pa.s.sed. It was my brother, disguised as Aiden with troll magic.

"But, my lord, there's a..."

The look my brother gave him, using Aiden's face, sent the man scampering to the mechanism that opened the steel portcullis.

"I trust you can kill that thing," he said under his breath.

"We'll find out," Tristan replied. "Either way, I'll be needing your sword."

In grim silence, we watched the heavy steel rise in its stone cas.e.m.e.nt, the screams of the terrified people running in the city streets sending chills down my spine. The dragon wheeled and dove, coming up with victims in its mouth, their blood freezing into ice before it reached the ground. Frost billowed from its mouth with each roar, coating the city with ice.

"Do not step beyond the walls," Tristan said once the gates were open, and then he walked out onto the bridge.

"a.n.u.shka is dead," I whispered, gripping my brother's arm.

Fred tore his gaze from Tristan. "The curse is broken?"

I nodded. "Fred... There's something I need to tell you." I didn't know how to say it. How to tell him that our mother was dead, and that I'd been the one who killed her. But before speak, Tristan shouted in a language not of this world, his voice amplified by magic so that the creature would hear.

"Whatever it is can wait," Fred replied, and I nodded in silent agreement.

The dragon drifted in lazy circles around the castle, listening to whatever Tristan was saying. It was enormous easily the size of a ship, and I could not fathom how Tristan intended to kill it.

Tristan ceased speaking, and the dragon came round to hover above the bridge, ma.s.sive wings sending blasts of wind that tore the banners from their moorings.

Thud, thud, thud.

Then the creature opened its maw, and a blast of ice hurtled through the air toward him. And smashed up against a wall of magic. Chunks of ice crashed onto the bridge and into the raging river below, and then the dragon jerked down. It shrieked in fury, trying to retreat up into the air, but invisible ropes of magic held it in place. The bridge shivered and the walls shook as Tristan bound the creature to them, drawing it down and down until it crashed into the bridge, knocking the railings into the river.

Tristan spoke again, and though I could not understand the words, from his tone, I knew he was giving the dragon one last chance to retreat. One last chance to live.

But it only roared in defiance.

Lifting Fred's sword, Tristan swung, the blade whipping through the air to slice into the dragon's neck, and then its head was falling. But before it could hit the ground, it turned to snow indistinguishable from that which fell from the sky. The body also turned, looking for all the world like a giant snow sculpture soon to be eroded by the wind. The blizzard died down, and the unnatural chill left the air.

"G.o.d in heaven," Fred whispered. "How is such a thing possible?"

Lowering the sword, Tristan turned back to us. "It was a test, the real threat is..."

Horns blasted from the south, drowning him out. Over and over again they echoed off the mountain peaks and through the valleys, the tone ominous and threatening. The sound of war.

"They have discovered their cage has been broken," Tristan said, and taking hold of my hand, he led me back to the castle.

The courtyard was full of the n.o.bility who had spilled out to watch, and at their head stood the Regent and Lady Marie.

"a.n.u.shka is dead and the curse broken," Tristan said. "The trolls are free, and our immortal brethren are returned to this world."

He hesitated, and no one said a word, the n.o.bles, guards, and servants all waiting to see what he would say. Some few knew about the trolls, but all had seen the dragon, and that was enough to lend truth to his words.

"I am Prince Tristan de Montigny, and my father is King of the Trolls. In his mind, King of the Isle of Light, and in his heart, the future ruler of all the world. He is coming; and mark my words, he will show no mercy to those who do not bend their knees before him."

"And you are his forerunner." The Regent's voice was bitter. "Here to prepare the Isle to receive its new king."

Tristan shook his head. "I'm here to fight with you, and with your help, to take the crown from my father. To find a way for your kind and mine to live in peace, and to protect you from those who would see a return to the days of old when humans were our slaves."

I watched as the crowd exchanged worried whispers, and my heart sank. We didn't have time for this the trolls were free, and too few of those here understood the magnitude of their threat. Roland, Angouleme, and Lessa they were coming...

"Why should we trust you?" the Regent demanded. "I know your kind. I know your ways."

"Because I am your only hope," Tristan replied. "You are not fighting for dominion over this Isle or even for your own sovereignty. When they come, you will be fighting for only one thing survival."

In the distance, the horns blared once more.

They were coming, and I had no idea how we'd stop them.

Acknowledgments.

Completing a novel is often considered a solitary pursuit success and failure attributed to what occurs in those long hours where a writer is alone with her keyboard. Far less consideration is given to the impact of the hours spent away from the ma.n.u.script, which means the individuals who influence those moments are rarely given their due. The fact of the matter is, none of my books would have been written if not for the support of those who are part of my non-writing life. The majority of Hidden Huntress made its way onto the page while I was working out of town, and as a result, I was reliant on a somewhat different group of people than I have in the past. Endless thanks to Carleen, Joel, Cohen, and Camdyn for being my family while I was away from mine. To Brenda, for keeping me employed and for teaching me a whole new set of text message acronyms. To Bob, for always making sure there was Starbucks waiting on the island for the hermit in your bas.e.m.e.nt. To my friends at Campus, especially Shannon, Katie, Jessica, Melissa, Kathyrn, Meaghan, Shaylea, Amber, Sunme, Kaitlyn, Carolyn, Destiny, Brianne, Shelby, Precious, and Kelvin, thanks for the endless entertainment. You guys rule! And for the moments I was in Calgary, so much grat.i.tude to Donna for all the lunches and for listening to my drama.

A thousand thanks to my amazing agent, Tamar Rydzinski, for your endless support and hard work I'd be lost without you! To Laura Dail for being there when things went sideways, and interns Ca.s.sie Homer and Emily Motyka for finding my typos. To the crew at Angry Robot Caroline, Marc, Phil, and Mike thanks for keeping me around and for all the work you put into this book; looking forward to going for round three with you.

Hidden Huntress wouldn't have seen the light of day without the ceaseless support of my family. Huge thanks to my mom for being the greatest book-pusher (though not as good as Sandy, Brenda, and Edith!) a daughter could ask for I'm not nearly as ungrateful as I pretend. To my dad, for endless editing and not complaining when I ask you to do it last minute. To my brother, for selling my books to your coworkers like they are Girl Guide cookies. And to Spencer, for making sure my life never suffers a dull moment love you!

Finally, I owe a huge debt of grat.i.tude to the book bloggers and readers who supported Stolen Songbird. It is very much thanks to you that Hidden Huntress is. .h.i.tting the shelves too, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

About the Author.

Danielle was born and raised in Calgary, Canada. At the insistence of the left side of her brain, she graduated in 2003 from the University of Calgary with a bachelor's degree in finance.

But the right side of her brain has ever been mutinous; and in 2010, it sent her back to school to complete an entirely impractical English literature degree at Mount Royal University and to pursue publication. Much to her satisfaction, the right side shows no sign of relinquishing its domination.

By the Same Author.

Stolen Songbird.