“I’m. Not. Pretending.”

She tightened her hold until his eyes bulged, and he jerked his knife upward, aiming for her eye. Releasing him hastily—too hastily—she fell on her back in the snow. He was on top of her within seconds, his knife poised at her throat.

Again, I struggled to rise, but Coco pinned me in place. “Let me go,” I snarled.

“You’re too weak.” She shook her head, eyes wide as she watched them. “Lou can handle him.”

“Bas. Bas, stop.” Lou’s hand closed around his wrist. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as if fighting back panic. “How do you not remember me?” He pressed his knife harder in response. Her arms trembled against his strength. “You’re not pretending. Shit. Shit.”

He hesitated, as if her curses had sparked something in him. A memory. “How do you know me?” he asked fiercely.

“I’ve known you for years. You’re one of my best friends.” When she reached up to touch his face, his jaw, his hand eased on the knife. “But I—did I do something to you in the Tower?” Her brows furrowed as she strained to remember. “You were locked away. They were going to kill you unless—” Realization dawned in her turquoise eyes. “Unless you gave them the names of the witches at Tremblay’s. That’s it.”

“You—you know about Tremblay’s?”

“I was there.”

“You couldn’t have been. I would remember.”

Finally, she pushed his knife away. He didn’t stop her. “Bastien St. Pierre,” she said, “we met backstage at Soleil et Lune two summers ago. A rehearsal for La Barbe Bleue had just ended, and you hoped to steal a moment or two with the leading lady. You were courting her at the time. A week later, you”—her face contorted with pain against some unseen force, and the scent of fresh magic burst through the air—“you started courting me.”

“How do you—?” He lurched away from her abruptly, clutching his head as if she’d cleaved it in two. “Stop it! Stop it, please!”

“I stole your memories from you. I’m simply returning them.”

“Whatever you’re doing, please, please just stop—”

Falling to his knees, Bas begged and pleaded, but Lou did not stop. Soon his wails drew the attention of the others. Madame Labelle—who’d just dispatched the last of the thieves—froze. Her eyes widened. “Louise, stop it. Stop,” she said sharply, tripping over her skirts in her haste to reach them. “You’ll kill yourself!”

But Lou didn’t listen. Her and Bas’s eyes rolled back simultaneously, and together, they collapsed.

I succeeded in pushing away Coco’s hands, in staggering to Lou’s side. The smell of incense choked me—sharp and sweet—and I coughed violently. Pain lanced through my stomach at the movement. “Lou.” I cupped her neck as Bas regained consciousness. “Can you hear me?”

“Louey?” Bas bolted upright, clutching her hand with sudden urgency. He patted her cheek. “Louey, wake up. Wake up.”

Nausea churned as her eyes fluttered open, as she blinked up at me. As she turned to face him.

As I realized the truth.

Lou had lied. Again. She had rescued her lover from the Tower. Right under my nose. It shouldn’t have surprised me—shouldn’t have mattered—but the deception still cut deep. Deeper than it should have, deeper than any flesh wound ever could. I felt raw, exposed, cut past muscle and bone to my very soul.

I dropped my hands, collapsing on the ground beside her. Breathing heavily.

With all eyes on us, none saw the thieves’ leader climb to his feet behind Coco. None except Lou. She tensed, and I turned to see him raise his knife with deadly intent, aiming for the spot between Coco’s shoulders. A death blow.

“Look out!” Bas cried.

Coco whirled, but the man was already upon her, the tip of his blade poised to pierce her chest—

Lou threw my Balisarda.

End over end, it soared between them, but the man moved at the last second, jerking his arm out of its path. And so it continued to fly, unimpeded, straight past. It didn’t stop until it sank deep into the tree behind them.

And then the tree ate it.

My mouth fell open. My breath abandoned me. I could do nothing but watch as the whole trunk shuddered, swallowing the precious steel inch by inch until nothing remained. Nothing but the sapphire on its hilt. And the tree—it changed. Veins of silver spread through its bark—once black—until the entire tree glinted in the sunlight. Midnight fruit bloomed on stark branches. Thorns enveloped each bud. Sharp. Metallic.

The kites nesting in its boughs took flight with startled cries, shattering the silence.

Coco moved quickly. With brutal efficiency, she stabbed the man in his heart. This time, he didn’t rise.

But I did.

“Reid,” Lou said placatingly, but I couldn’t hear her. A ringing had started in my ears. A numbness had crept through my limbs. Pain should’ve razed my body with each step, but it didn’t. Agony should’ve destroyed my heart with each beat. Gone, it should’ve thumped. Gone-gone, gone-gone, gone-gone. But it didn’t.

I felt nothing.

Without my Balisarda, I was nothing.

As if floating above, I watched myself reach out to touch the sapphire, but Lou’s hand descended on mine. “Don’t touch it,” she said breathlessly. “The tree could suck you in too.” I didn’t drop my hand. It kept reaching, reaching, until Lou managed to wrestle it to my side. “Reid, stop. It’s—it’s—it’s gone. But don’t worry. We’ll—we’ll get you another one. All right? We’ll—” She broke off when I turned to look at her. Pink tinged her cheeks. Her nose. Alarm widened her eyes.

“Let him go, Louise,” Madame Labelle said sternly. “You’ve done quite enough damage for one day.”

“Excuse me?” Lou whirled to face her, lip curling. “You don’t get to speak about damage done.”

Coco stepped to Lou’s side. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t waited so long to intervene. These men didn’t know you had magic. You could’ve ended this as soon as it began. Why didn’t you?”

Madame Labelle lifted her chin. “I do not answer to you.”

“Then answer to me.”

At my strained words, everyone in the camp turned in my direction. The troupe members huddled close, watching with wide eyes. Deveraux looked aghast. When Ansel took a tentative step forward, Beau pulled him back with a shake of his head. I ignored them all, locking eyes with my mother. She blanched. “I—”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lou’s laughter held an ugly edge. “She wants you to use magic, Reid. She waited until the last possible moment to see if your defense mechanisms would kick in. Isn’t that right, mother dear?”

I waited for my mother to deny such an outrageous accusation. When she didn’t, I felt myself stumble back a step. Away from her. Away from Lou.

Away from my Balisarda.

“I almost died,” I said simply.

Madame Labelle’s face crumpled, and she stepped closer, lifting a mournful hand. “I never would’ve let you—”