Page 47 of A Crown of Darkness

Anselm moved as if to rise, as if to attack, and Roland forced himself to press the blade against his neck until a line of blood appeared and Anselm froze.

‘You tried to kill Roland,’ Anselm said. ‘You sent the shadow kin after him. On the way here, and in Pelias too.’

‘I thought I needed him out of the way. Oh, but I am so pleased that they didn’t succeed now. Look at him. What a servant he will make for me. Together, we will deal with Pelias and Sidonia. We will release the ancient powers and make them ours, with that sword and the Sidonian crown. And when your bitch queen dies, you’ll all fall into line.’

Anselm sucked in a breath but didn’t seem to have a response. Roland held himself still as stone.

‘You have no place here,’ shouted one of the other witchkind.

Another voice joined them, and more. ‘Tobias showed us the truth.’

‘You tricked us all, seduced and bewitched?—’

‘Do you hear yourselves? Bewitched? Of course I did. It is our power. We should use it. That was the way of old magic and the right of the witchkind kings and queens of old. Of all of us. Grind these mundane fools into the dirt and rule, not hide and run or submit and be chained up in miserable holes like this.’

‘You are not going to entrap us again,’ Vivienne yelled. ‘We can see through you now. Enough of us?—’

Alouette snarled a few words of othertongue and Vivienne gave a cry, desperate and afraid. Roland heard her crumple to the ground but didn’t dare turn to see what had happened to her. ‘You need to learn your place too, it seems. Sneaking around behind my back, you and your co-conspirators. Little hedge witch charms and sly words…oh, I’ll be happy to teach you, Vivienne, and tear their names from your mind, but first…’ Suddenly all her attention was back on Roland like a crushing weight. ‘Roland de Silvius,’ her voice rippled with power and though he knew she was speaking othertongue to control him, he understood every word, ‘kill that worthless knight and give me Nightbreaker.’

‘I hope you’ve heard enough now,’ Anselm muttered darkly.

‘More than enough,’ Roland agreed.

Anselm rolled to one side and Roland swung the great sword of the Knights of the Aurum in a wide arc, a blur of light and death itself, burying it in Alouette’s body.

She slid to the ground, dead before she hit it.

Something shook the air, like a thread stretched too far until it snapped, and the whole College trembled, just for a moment. Then came gasps of alarm, dismay and bewilderment as Alouette’s remaining spells shattered.

Roland wiped the blade clean on one of the sumptuous throws and flung the fabric over her body. Then he reached out a hand to help a somewhat shaken Anselm to his feet. The knight held his hand for a moment too long, studying his face as if to ask a question Roland didn’t want to answer. Would he have killed him?

Light, he hoped not. Anselm clearly wasn’t sure, but granted Roland the benefit of the doubt. Anselm was as much like a son to him as Finn was. So he had to hope the boy was right.

‘You realise we could have asked her some questions?’ Olivier said as he reached them.

Roland shrugged. ‘But could we have trusted any of the answers?’

REPORT ON THE BUTLIER INCIDENT, ANNALS OF THE COLLEGE OF WINTER, VOL. 4522

Few members of the College were unaffected. It was through the intervention of the Grandmaster of the Knights of the Aurum and his men that the spell was broken and the College freed, his judgement being swift and complete. Chancellor Vambray regained his position, and Lady Vivienne de Sullaine, who was to become First Healer, set about repairing the damage but it was to be a long ordeal.

Please see Vol. 4523 for the background and wider repercussions of the Butlier conspiracy.

CHAPTER 27

WREN

It felt like something else was guiding them, not the Nox. Something unseen and unheard but almost tangible in the air. There was something like a sigh or a song, a whisper that never quite made itself heard or a melody half remembered on waking from a forgotten dream. Wren followed, and so did Finn, because there was nothing else either of them could do.

Leander would be coming, Wren knew that.

The Nox’s anger fizzed against the back of Wren’s consciousness. This outrage would not be borne, this betrayal. It would not be controlled by a king of Ilanthus again. The power beyond was beside itself with a need for retribution and that was possibly all that was keeping it in check right now and stopping it from taking control.

It…her… Wren wasn’t even sure anymore. The more the power of darkness tried to wrap itself around her, the more it felt like part of her, its outrage, her outrage, its desire so closely twined with hers that there might never be a chance of separating them again. It was part of her now and she was flowing back into it, changing it, both of them transformed by the proximity of the other.

And then there was Finn.

He was Finn again. That was her one relief. And Finn had always protected her and followed her lead when it mattered, unless she was putting herself at risk. Finn was hers.

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