Timebender: The Bloodlender Trilogy, #2

By Zoe Perrenoud

To be bound by blood is to be bound forever – but who can you trust, when everyone has their own agenda?

Sophie may have broken the Delville curse and gained temporary control of her powers, but the clock is ticking. She can't become a sworn Bloodlender – a blood magician blessed by the Old Gods – until she finds her missing father, and failure isn't an option.

When trouble arises in Vichy, Sophie flees to Switzerland and encounters the Vessel, a secret community dealing with a crisis of its own. Several young Bloodlenders have disappeared and rumours are circulating of a fate worse than death.

As her new friends vanish one by one, Sophie must confront her fears and venture into the heart of danger, where the answers she seeks lie in wait. But the truth isn't always pleasant… and the past is fast catching up.

Can she save herself and her loved ones before someone else seals her fate?

TIMEBENDER is the thrilling second installment in The Bloodlender Trilogy, a dark coming-of-age fantasy series perfect for fans of V. E. Schwab and Neil Gaiman.

Click BUY NOW and find out what happens!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Perrenoud
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9789998789326

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

‘These things can happen.’ Docteur Malvin sighed and tucked a pen into the front pocket of his coat. ‘Especially after extensive smoke damage to the lungs.’

‘What about the monitors?’ My voice sounded strained and distant, as if it belonged to someone else. ‘Aren’t they supposed to warn you when something goes wrong?’

A bead of sweat trickled down my brow. The atmosphere inside the hospital hung close and hot, the air like warm fur against the skin of my arms. A child began to wail in a room down the corridor. I gritted my teeth and fought to block out the sound.

‘Of course.’ The doctor’s gaze almost met mine, then flicked away at the last second. ‘But recovery depends largely on the state of the body we’re working to revive. You see–’

‘Body?’ My hands twitched. ‘My mum was a person. She had a life and a family. You were supposed to look after her. She...’

Tante Adèle’s fingers dug into my shoulder. ‘Docteur Malvin, my niece is still in shock. We all are. If there was such a risk of heart failure, why didn’t the staff keep an eye on Jeanne?’

Docteur Malvin straightened. ‘They did! Madame Constantin had been doing well since she came out of her coma. I checked her chart and monitors myself. Even in the hours before the heart attack, her health seemed to be improving.’ He glanced in my direction. ‘That doesn’t mean accidents can’t happen.’

Tante Adèle sniffed and nodded. Disgusted, I wriggled out of her grip. ‘This wasn’t an accident! Someone killed her!’

‘Sophie!’

‘Did she have any visitors that day? A tall man with grey eyes and a shaved head?’

The doctor frowned. ‘I have no idea. I was in surgery.’

‘Would the nurses know?’

‘They might, but I doubt they’ll remember. We don’t keep track of visitors here. Listen, I understand you’re upset, but–’

‘Ask them! I can give a description, a drawing, if that helps.’

Docteur Malvin’s eyes narrowed. He swapped a glance with Tante Adèle. ‘A drawing? Sounds like you should be speaking to the police.’

My aunt didn’t respond, but I didn’t have to look at her to know what she was thinking. We’d had the argument a dozen times already.

‘You were her doctor,’ I said. ‘It’s you I’m asking.’

His gaze hardened. ‘To my knowledge, your mother received no visitors aside from the two of you on the seventeenth, when you left her in a very distressed state, may I remind you.’

I gaped at him, and a familiar hum filled my veins. Not as overwhelming as it used to be, but hard to ignore nonetheless, like a bad itch in need of scratching... or a flame, begging to be fanned into an inferno.

Beside me, Tante Adèle bristled. ‘Hey, that’s not–’

‘Docteur Malvin?’ a nurse called from the entrance to the ward. ‘Your patient?’

He didn’t even try to hide his relief. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this right now. What happened to Madame Constantin was an unfortunate tragedy, but I truly believe her death happened as a result of the weakened state of her body. Either way, the autopsy results should be in soon. If they contain anything unusual, I’ll be sure to let you know.’

‘But–’

‘I really must go.’ He raised his hands and backed away. ‘Have a nice day.’

I started after him, blood rising, but Tante Adèle grabbed my arm. ‘Leave it,’ she muttered. ‘He’s right. Let’s wait for the autopsy.’

‘It might not show anything. What if Boucher threatened her?’

My aunt winced and gave her round belly a gentle pat. ‘Tell me again why you think this man, who I’ve never even heard of, would sneak in here and try to kill your mother?’

The fire in my veins crackled and hissed. I hadn’t told anyone about the events of my last night at Les Rosiers. My aunt and uncle had been so caught up in the whirlwind caused by my mother’s death, they’d barely noticed the bruises on my body and the smell of smoke clinging to my hair and clothes. They’d accepted my half-baked excuse of a midsummer bonfire gone rogue, and hadn’t given the Delvilles another thought.

I wished I could do the same.

‘He was harassing her at work,’ I said as we headed for the lift. ‘She mentioned him before the fire. He also followed me a couple of times when I was living with... when I was still going to school. A few weeks ago.’

It felt weird to talk about school. I kept forgetting I’d been suspended. The muscles of my arms and shoulders still ached from throwing my weight against the lid of Rosabelle’s tomb, but even those three days spent in the Delvilles’ grotto seemed to belong to a different lifetime. The memory of another pair of hands next to mine tried to worm its way into my mind, but I pushed it back.

‘She did go on sometimes about people watching the house,’ Tante Adèle conceded. ‘I always thought she was being... well, her.’

Her. My mother, with her annoying quirks and inexplicable mood swings. We’d spent so long butting heads, I struggled to see her any other way, but it wasn’t that simple. Since the night of the solstice, a different perception of her had layered itself over my thoughts; a woman broken by her missing husband’s secrets and haunted by the likelihood she would one day lose her only child, too.

I slammed on the button to call the lift. ‘Seems like she was right all along.’

‘If that’s true, then Docteur Malvin has a point. The police should hear this. Maybe they know this man, this...?’

‘Oscar Boucher.’

The doors opened with a ping. Tante Adèle shuffled in and turned to face me. ‘Is he dangerous?’

I hesitated. Oscar Boucher had stalked and threatened me, but he’d never actually harmed me. I still wasn’t sure what kind of cat-and-mouse game he and his brother Étienne had been playing with me, but I had Bloodlending on my side. How much Oscar cared about that remained to be seen. His brother’s dead because of you. The only thing he’s going to care about is putting a bullet in your head.

‘Yes.’

We left the hospital lobby for the sweltering heat of the car park. Tante Adèle rummaged in her bag for her car keys. ‘Then we need to report him. Do you think Alain Delville could help?’

My heart froze. ‘What?’

‘He must have access to the bank’s security footage. If this Boucher man was bothering Jeanne at work, they should have him on camera.’

I swallowed hard. ‘Maybe.’

‘It doesn’t hurt to ask.’

Right. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out and checked the screen.

Mariam. Asking for details about the funeral.

Not who you wanted to hear from? I ignored the nagging little voice and tried to feel relieved. Things were still shaky between Mariam and me, but at least we were talking. She hadn’t mentioned the incident with Eric, or my suspension. In return, I’d kept quiet about the magic in my blood. Our awkward conversations were all about my mother and the days ahead.

‘I guess,’ I said slowly. ‘He’ll be getting home from work soon. I could take the bus.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ Tante Adèle opened the car door before I could answer. ‘I’d drive you, but Simon’s squash game starts in half an hour, and the kids–’

‘It’s okay. I could use some alone time.’

My aunt cupped my face and gave me one of the sad half-smiles she’d adopted as her go-to response to most things, these days. ‘We’re going to get through this. I don’t know how yet, but we’ll make it through.’

Through to what? I wanted to ask. Through to me sleeping on her lumpy couch for the foreseeable future? Trying to study for the Bac between nappy changes and bedtime stories with my cousins?

‘I haven’t been doing a very good job with you, have I?’ Tante Adèle added before I could say anything. ‘After the fire, with your troubles at school...’ she trailed off.

‘You had other things on your mind.’

‘I mean it, Sophie. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.’ She stroked my cheek. ‘Simon and I, we’re not going to let you slip through the cracks. I’ll speak to Madame Galliani and see what can be done about your record.’

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I couldn’t care less about school.

Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes as she lowered her hand ‘Promise me you won’t give up on yourself, alright? I watched it happen to Jeanne after your father died. I can’t go through that pain again with you.’

‘Sure,’ was all I could manage.

‘Good. Now, go to Les Rosiers and come straight home after. If that Boucher man’s still out there–’

‘I’ll be fine.’ I said before my nerves betrayed me. ‘I can take care of myself.’

CHAPTER TWO

I didn’t go straight there.

Once Tante Adèle had driven away, I left the bus stop and used the twenty-minute walk to the Parc des sources to settle the buzz in my veins. Commuters rushed past me towards the train station, eager to get home, while groups of kids milled around with ice creams and cans of soda. I kept an eye out for familiar faces. Exams would be over for my classmates. Some might have left for the holidays already, but others would be hanging around the city centre, soaking up the sun.

You can’t go back.

My suspension from Lycée René Barjavel would be over by September, but that didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t just turn up, after what I’d done to Eric. With the exception of Mariam, the rest of the class had already blocked or unfriended me on social media. Their silence over Maman’s death spoke volumes.

‘You don’t need them,’ I muttered as I crossed the main shopping street that ran parallel to the park. ‘You don’t live in their world anymore.’

The covered walkways of the Parc des sources sucked me into their shady embrace. A couple of teens lounged on a nearby bench, the girl’s legs draped over her boyfriend’s lap. She whispered something in his ear and giggled before covering his mouth with hers. Cheeks aflame, I kept my gaze on the path and hurried towards the pavilion.

The Hall des sources seemed abnormally busy for a Monday afternoon. A coach-load of Japanese tourists filled the space by the front door, chatting and taking pictures of the glass ceiling. I inched my way around them until I reached the taps accessible to the public. The stark white tiles reminded me of the hospital. You almost lost it back there. I pulled an empty bottle from my bag and placed it under the tap. You need to watch yourself.

Water trickled from the spout with a merry gurgle.

My nostrils flared, drawing in the scent of raw magic. Although the now-familiar smell pervaded various parts of the city, it remained at its strongest here. My senses turned inward as awareness spread through my veins. With enough focus, I could almost feel my blood cells expand in anticipation of the gift left behind by the old Gods. The moment the bottle was full, I retreated to a bench along the wall and downed the contents in one go.

My eyelids drifted shut.

A dizzying rush shook my being, followed by absolute clarity. I belonged here, in this moment, free of all concern about the rest of the world. I could go back whenever I wanted, but why should I? Everything felt so much better, so much easier, on the brink of oblivion. Raw power tugged at my senses, while pure energy coursed through my veins, ready to be set free.

I kept as still as I could and let the storm wash over me until every last nerve in my body fizzled with unspent magic.

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The effects of the water had almost vanished by the time I got off the bus. I’d spent the journey in a trance, gaze unfocused, lost in a portion of my mind where nothing had a name, yet everything made sense. The sudden hiss of the opening doors and my brutal return to reality left me feeling disconnected and irritable.

I squinted through the haze at the road ahead of me. The walk to the Delvilles’ home hadn’t changed. The same shrubs and flowerbeds wilted in the heat, oblivious to the fact that a large number of their peers had developed a will of their own and successfully murdered a grown man just a few hundred metres up the road. It was tempting to think of Rodolphe’s grotto as a timeless place where normal rules didn’t apply, but Étienne Boucher, or Jonathan Valvert as I’d known him, was still very much dead because of what had happened there.

Part of me wished I could erase all memories of that crazy night. Étienne’s ghost plagued most of my dreams. His vine-strangled face kept trying to talk to me, but I could never make out the words. You should have followed him to Switzerland. If I had, Maman might still be alive.

Yeah, but Gauthier wouldn’t.

I grimaced, but the damage was done. Details slipped through the crack to pull at my heartstrings. A pair of green eyes flecked with gold. The clinical smell of disinfectant, laced with the musky undertone of old books. The cold touch of his forehead beneath mine. The thought of seeing him again...

‘I’ll stop,’ I pleaded quietly as the gate to Les Rosiers came into view. ‘I’ll forget everything and leave you alone, if that’s what you want, but you’ll have to say it to my face.’

I was still rehearsing the conversation when I noticed the two vehicles parked outside the property. A van bearing the logo of an ironworks company towered over a sleek grey Audi. Several workmen in dark overalls were busy hauling an elegant new gate into place under the supervision of a smartly dressed man. The old gate, bent out of shape by the Boucher brothers’ car, leaned against the hedge.

‘Careful!’ the man shouted. ‘Don’t damage the posts.’ The workmen rolled their eyes at each other, but the man was back on his phone. ‘What do you mean, not for three weeks? The place is a mess. Ash everywhere. What am I supposed to do, sweep it up myself?’

The person on the other end seemed to think so, because the man hung up with a volley of curses that made me pause.

‘Yes?’ he snapped when he saw me. ‘What do you want?’

‘I’m here to see the Delvilles.’

The man scoffed. ‘You’re a bit young to buy a house.’

A giant, invisible fist wrapped itself around my ribcage and squeezed. ‘What?’

‘Where are your parents? Do they have an appointment? Visits don’t start until next week, but if they don’t mind a bit of ash on their shoes, I could give them a quick tour–’

‘I need to talk to Alain Delville. I’m a friend of the family.’

The man’s gaze swept over my hoodie and shorts in a way that made my skin prickle. ‘I doubt that.’

‘I know their son. Gauthier.’

There. I’d said his name out loud. It burned my lips, but the man shrugged and turned his back on me. The workers had finished securing the gate and were getting ready to close it. I bolted for the gap.

‘They’re not in, stupid girl!’ the man in the suit shouted after me. ‘Stop right there or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing!’

I skidded to a halt and glared back at him. ‘The Delvilles wouldn’t press charges against me.’

‘Maybe not, but I will.’

‘It’s not your house. Who are you, anyway?’

‘Hugo Labranche. Estate agent in charge of selling Les Rosiers. Alain Delville gave me complete control over the process. That includes turning away nosy little brats who need to mind their own business.’

With an ugly sneer, he pulled a large For Sale sign out of the back of his car. My hand twitched. All I needed was the tip of a blade, a sharp point to slash open my flesh and show this idiot... Stop! A shudder ran through my body. You’re not in the grotto anymore. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t burn my way through this one. Slowly, the urge faded to a dull throb. You should have saved some of that water. By the time I felt calm enough to speak, the workmen had finished and were packing up their tools. Hugo Labranche muttered under his breath while he fixed the sign to the shiny new bars.

‘Where did the Delvilles go?’ I asked.

He didn’t even look at me. ‘You should know, if you’re such good friends with them.’

‘Gauthier’s not answering his phone.’

‘Not my problem, is it?’ Labranche waved off the workmen without so much as a thank you. ‘Don’t even think about climbing over. I’ll know if you do.’

He jerked his chin towards the top of the nearest gate post, where the dark lens of a surveillance camera winked in the afternoon sunlight. Merde. Not that I stood a chance of scaling those sleek metal bars. I might be able to melt them, but that would raise questions I wasn’t willing to answer. Before I could protest, Hugo Labranche got into his car and drove off in a cloud of dust.

Connard.

I pressed the button on the intercom several times, but no one answered.

‘He’s telling the truth. They’re not here.’

That voice. Instincts blazing, I whipped around and swallowed a shriek. Oscar Boucher stood among the bushes, leaves clinging to his dirty clothes. Mud streaked his face and hands as if he’d spent several rough nights outside. The coincidence might have seemed funny – I’d hidden in the exact same spot only a week ago – if he hadn’t been looking at me like he wanted to snap me in half.

‘Where is he?’ Oscar snarled.

‘I don’t–’

‘Yes, you do! Where’s my brother?’

I glared back, stalling for a chance to get a handle on myself. Oscar Boucher had haunted my thoughts for days, but I wasn’t prepared for the bolt of fury that crackled at the sight of him. ‘I’m not saying anything until you tell me what you did to my mother!’

I wanted him to deny it. I wanted surprise to flit across his face, even for a second. It wouldn’t have changed much, but a small part of me wanted to cling to the hope that Docteur Malvin was right about Maman’s death.

Oscar’s sneer deepened. ‘I did her a favour.’

Red flooded my vision. I flew at him, but he shoved me back before I could hit him.

‘Are you sure you want to do that?’ He nodded towards the security camera.

Rage seared its way around my veins and threatened to burn through my skin, but I forced myself to take a breath. ‘You killed her!’

‘You killed my brother!’

‘No, that was an accident! You–’

Oscar growled. ‘I knew it, you little shit! Where is he? Where’s his body?’

My anger eased a fraction, tempered by guilt. This was ridiculous. If that camera recorded sound, we were both finished.

‘It’s gone,’ I said quietly. ‘He’s gone. I couldn’t save him.’

‘You could have tried!’

He’s right. I shook my head. ‘You weren’t there. You wouldn’t understand.’

Oscar inched closer. ‘I don’t need to. My brother had a gun and knew how to use it. The Delvilles are harmless cowards. That leaves you and your magic.’

He kept advancing, hatred etched into the very lines of his face. I backed up against the newly fitted gate and felt behind me – all I needed was a jagged edge, camera be damned.

‘Étienne lied to me,’ I said. ‘He tried to trick me instead of telling me the truth about my dad, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead. There was a... situation, down in Rodolphe Delville’s grotto. Your brother got in the way before I could help.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

My middle finger found the sharp corner of the For Sale sign. ‘Why didn’t you come with him, if you were so worried? Oh wait, because you were too busy murdering an innocent wo–’

‘I didn’t kill your mother,’ Oscar snapped. ‘I went to see her, but we barely talked. She panicked when I mentioned Werner. Set off all her monitors. I left before the doctors got there.’

‘That’s convenient.’ I pressed my finger into the corner of the sign. A drop of blood slid down my hand, ready to ignite. Come on, I willed him. Come closer. ‘You could have warned someone.’

‘Wouldn’t have made a difference. She was too weak.’

‘Why were you talking to her about Kaiser?’

‘It was Étienne’s idea. He hoped she might convince you to help us, if nothing else worked.’

‘You mean if he failed to kidnap me.’ I slowly brought my hand around and angled my body to hide it from the camera. Oscar froze when he saw the blood on my fingertip, his lips curled in disgust. His eyes widened a fraction, however, when a small red flame sparked from the cut and danced into the air. ‘If Kaiser needs me so badly, why doesn’t he come for me himself?’

‘He’s a busy man.’

‘So he sent you two goons to do his dirty work instead? Why the hell should I help someone like that?’

Oscar’s gaze remained fixed on the flame. ‘Don’t you want to know what happened to your dad?’

‘Does Kaiser have him?’

‘Kill me now and you’ll never find out.’

The fire at my fingertip flared. ‘Who said anything about killing?’

I tried to sound confident, but on the inside, I was screaming. What was I thinking, trying to take on a grown man in the middle of nowhere? The longer I kept the flame alight, the more energy it sapped from my body. Epona may have given me control over my blood, but she hadn’t taught me how to use my powers. Not like a true Bloodlender could.

‘When did you take the Oath?’ Oscar frowned. ‘Who showed you?’

I smiled. ‘Doesn’t matter, does it?’

‘Have you told your aunt yet?’

My smile vanished as my skin prickled. ‘Leave her out of this.’

‘I didn’t think so.’ Cold amusement pervaded his gaze. ‘You know your life here’s finished, right? You won’t last the summer.’

‘We’ll make it work.’

‘Yeah? What’s gonna happen when the new baby cries and gets on your nerves? What if you lose control again? You’re a danger to everyone around you.’ Oscar jerked his chin towards the gate. ‘Even your boyfriend didn’t stick around.’

I swallowed hard. ‘He’s not–’

‘Don’t you want to be with people who understand what you’re going through?’

‘And who’s that supposed to be?’ I hated the tremor in my voice, but I couldn’t stay silent. ‘You’re not a Bloodlender. Neither is Kaiser.’

‘He knows enough to help you.’

‘I have other options.’

‘The Vessel?’ Oscar scoffed. ‘They hate outsiders. They’re more likely to kill you than take you in.’

The flame in my hand wavered, starved of fresh blood. The wound was closing. If I didn’t do something soon, the spark would die out and I’d have to cut myself again. Even one second of distraction would give him enough time to make a move, and I couldn’t risk that.

‘Looks like neither of us is going to get what we came here for,’ I said quickly, shooting an obvious glance at the camera. Heart pounding, I let the flame vanish from my fingertip in a wisp of smoke. ‘Go back to Switzerland, Oscar. Tell Kaiser I won’t talk to him until he sends me proof my father’s alive.’

‘That’s not–’

I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of his startled face. ‘If I see you here again, or if anything suspicious happens to my family or friends, I’ll take this photo straight to the police and tell them you murdered both my parents. I’ll give them Kaiser’s name and the address of his lab. I doubt your boss will like that.’

A vein pulsed in Oscar’s forehead. I half expected him to gnash his teeth and snarl at me, but his hands curled into fists instead. You’re an idiot, Sophie Constantin. He’s going to rip you apart, limb by limb, and no amount of blood magic will be able to bring you back from the dead. I braced myself and fought the urge to close my eyes, but all he did was back away into the road.

‘This isn’t over,’ he spat. ‘You’re lucky Kaiser needs you alive. When he’s done with you, you’re going to pay for what you did to my brother.’

He turned and stalked off towards town, shoulders tensed as if he expected me to blast him with fire at any moment. Instead, I waited until he’d disappeared and sank to the ground, my back pressed against the new gate. I let out a shaky breath as a tear rolled down my cheek and soaked into the collar of my t-shirt. Phone still in my hand, I opened my messages and tapped Gauthier’s name. I scrolled through the dozens of texts I’d sent until I found the last one he’d written, a couple of hours after we’d parted ways.

Some night, huh? Looks like we’ll have a lot to talk about on that date.

Only there’d been no date. I’d called him the following morning, still numb with shock, but his phone had been switched off. I’d tried again and again, worried something had happened to him, until doubt dug its cruel claws in and made me stop. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d come to his senses and realised I wasn’t just wrong for him, but dangerous too?

He could have told you about the move. I trapped my lip between my teeth and started typing. Maybe he was afraid. Maybe his parents had warned him off, desperate to sever ties with anything Bloodlender-related. Who could blame them, after all those years of suffering under Rodolphe’s curse?

Against my better judgement, my thumb flew over the screen, smearing it with old blood.

Where are you?

I need you.

CHAPTER THREE

My mother’s funeral was a quiet affair.

The full force of the late June sun beat down on the open grave, baking the mound of earth beside it into dust. A short distance away, a small group of mourners fanned themselves with the cream-coloured booklets Tante Adèle had helped me put together. Sweat welded my new black dress to my body like an extra layer of skin. Where were those pockets when I needed them? For the tenth time in as many minutes, I fought the urge to tug on the hem. You wanted to grow up? Here you are. My fingers twitched, but I’d trimmed my nails to the quick. A precaution, in case my emotions got the better of me and I accidentally set the cemetery on fire.

You never knew, these days.

While the priest droned on, I kept an eye out for familiar faces. Monsieur and Madame Drouot, our old neighbours, stood beside a woman whose dog my mother used to walk. A few colleagues from the bank had turned up, but I couldn’t remember their names. Their gazes darted to me, their muffled whispers like shouts in my ears. I did my best to block them out and kept my attention on the path.

Alain was her boss. Even if he didn’t care about her, he should pay his respects, after everything you did for him. For Gauthier, really, but I didn’t want to dwell on that. His phone was still switched off and the landline at Les Rosiers had been disconnected. I hadn’t gone back to the house. I couldn’t be certain Oscar had left Vichy, and I wasn’t going to give him a second chance to attack.

‘What was I thinking?’ Tante Adèle muttered, a wrinkled handkerchief in her hand. ‘Jeanne would hate this.’

I stroked her arm. ‘Maybe, but funerals are for the living.’

My aunt gave a muffled noise of assent. Behind us, Oncle Simon was talking in clipped tones to my cousins, Isabelle and Sébastien. Twice now, Sébastien had tried to wander off among the headstones.

I wished I could do the same.

Tante Adèle was right. There was nothing here. No hint of Maman’s presence. No sign of the sadness or loss I kept expecting to steal my breath away, either. My eyes stayed dry, my throat tight. I needed a drink, but there’d been no time to sneak out to the Parc des sources that morning. Instead, I’d peered into the bathroom mirror and tried to conjure my mother’s face, hoping to feel something other than anger.

Anything.

This isn’t normal. What happened in that garden broke you, and now you can’t even grieve your own mother.

Conversations hushed as the priest called for everyone’s attention. Maman had never been religious. This man had never even met her – what did he know about her life? Her suffering? When I’d asked Tante Adèle about the choice of ceremony, she’d mumbled something about honouring my grandparents’ beliefs. The whole thing felt wrong, but what could I say? No one knew the actual truth about the ordeals our family had faced. Only Papa, and he wasn’t here.

According to the old Gods, he wasn’t anywhere.

What was it Cernunnos had said? Fallen outside the fold. I had no idea what it meant. Kaiser might know. In the darkest hours of the night, when the mystery drove me to distraction, I wondered if I should have gone to Switzerland with Oscar. Please. He’ll kill you the minute he gets a chance.

‘As we lay Jeanne Constantin to rest, so should we pledge to live our lives as she would have wished, in harmony and love, peace and righteousness,’ the priest finished.

‘Sure,’ I muttered under my breath.

A sudden flicker of movement caught my eye. A short, dark-haired woman hovered at the edge of the group, craning her neck as if searching for someone. Hope exploded in my chest. I would have recognised that golden crucifix anywhere. Finally! But before I could go to Ana Luísa, Tante Adèle grabbed my hand.

‘You first.’

‘Huh?’

Everyone was staring at me. The priest pointed to a pile of red roses and the mound of dirt beside the grave. Oh. Cheeks burning, I bent and grabbed one of the delicate stems. Someone had gone to the trouble of cutting the thorns off. But Maman’s life was full of them... I tossed the bloom into the hole where it hit the polished wood of the casket with a dull thud. I threw in