“No.” With an errant flick of her wrist, my diamond pin clattered to the floor. Vaguely, I realized the table had stilled around us. Every eye had turned in my direction. “I do not think so. Even with Aurore’s blessing—even with your precious allies—you are not equipped to win this war, Louise le Blanc. Quite simply, my sister chose wrong.”

That heat kept spreading. Hotter than anger now. Hotter than embarrassment. Brows furrowing in alarm, Beau stared at my hand when I slammed it atop the table. “You speak of blessings,” I said, the words spilling forth wildly and with abandon, “but what good are the loyalty and devotion of the Wild Man of the Forest and the Triple Goddess? My mother—my own mother, the person who should’ve loved me most in the world—has tried to kill me three times. She murdered my best friend in front of me. Since then, I’ve spent days, perhaps weeks, possessed by Nicholina. Earlier tonight she almost drowned me in these wretched waters, where my mother also tried to kill me. Again. Now Reid sleeps under an enchantment I cannot break while you insult me in front of your entire court.” My chest heaved. “If this is the blessing of a goddess, I’d hate to see her curse.”

Isla only smiled.

With a single finger, she pushed the dish between us—still covered—in my direction. The flippant gesture only enraged me further. I shoved to my feet, prepared to stalk from the hall, to seize Reid’s body and leave, when my eyes dropped to the silver cloche. To my reflection there.

Too late, I registered the sharp scent of magic.

Coco’s eyes held wonder, fear, as she too pushed from the table. “Lou?”

But I didn’t recognize my reflection. Round brown eyes stared back at me, and straight, wheat-colored locks replaced my own. Pink cheeks replaced freckles. My gown hung from diminutive shoulders, the excess fabric pooling at my feet. As I stared at it, the heat in my chest morphed slowly to something else—something innocent, youthful, inquisitive, alive.

Without realizing, I’d transformed into the Maiden.

When Isla stood to stroll toward me, her entire court stood too. She trailed a casual finger across my throat. Scarless now. “You were saying?”

I swallowed hard against her nail, refusing to look at anyone. Especially my reflection. “How—how is this possible?”

“Claud warned Morgane. He told her what would happen if she continued to defy us. Morgane arranged your possession regardless.”

“But that”—Beau pushed his plate away with a slack expression—“that means—”

“Yes, princeling.” Isla moved behind me, fanning my hair across my shoulders. “The sea urchin has become La Dame des Sorcières. A pity, if you ask me, but admittedly a useful one.”

“Does Morgane know?” Coco asked sharply.

In answer, Angelica tensed, her eyes eddying until she no longer saw the room but something else. Somewhere else. “Yes.” She returned to us after another moment, shaking her head and wincing. “She is not pleased.”

I spoke through numb lips. “Why did you bring us here?”

Her hands tightened on my neck, and at last—at last—she answered. “My darling Angelica believes we should ally ourselves with you in this tedious struggle against Morgane.” I felt her shrug, as if we discussed the weather and not my very life. “I must confess, I care not for it. Neither your death nor your mother’s will affect us here.” She moved beside me then, offering a hand. I had no choice but to accept it. Tucking my arm in hers, she led me about the room while the others tracked us with their eyes. No one dared resume eating.

“I am not, however, a fool.”

I didn’t correct her.

“You present a unique opportunity for me and my people—and most of all for Angelica. I treasure her, you know,” she added. The woman in question kept her head bowed and her hands clasped, as all the melusines did. “Twenty years ago, a ring of hers was stolen while she dallied above water, creating your rather beautiful friend.” Isla waved a vague hand toward Coco. “You have heard of this ring. You have called it by name.” Reaching around me, she lifted my right hand to stroke my empty ring finger. “You have even wielded its magic. You do not, however, know it as we do. It is not a simple ring of immunity and invisibility, as your foolish kin believe. More importantly, it does not belong to them. It does not belong to any of you. It is Angelica’s Ring—it is her very power—and we shall have it back.”

Vindicated, I almost laughed at the realization. At the hard, delicious truth. For all her extraordinary intelligence, beauty, and bravery, here she was . . . in need of me. A sea urchin. “If you know I’ve used it, you also know I don’t have it any longer. My mother does. It’s kept under lock and key at Chateau le Blanc.”

“Precisely.”

“I don’t quite grasp what you’re implying. Ordinary brain, you know. If her ring is so important, surely you can retrieve it yourself?”

When she turned me to face her abruptly, her smile shone hard and bright, and her nails dug painfully into my forearm, longer and sharper than before. She lifted a finger to my lips when I tried to protest, and the metallic taste of blood followed. My blood. “Ah, ah, ah.” Her eyes dipped to my lips, to her finger, before flicking back to my own. “Do not disrespect me, or you shall never hear my proposition.”

I glared at her in mutinous silence.

She arched a devilish brow. “I cannot retrieve the ring myself because I cannot directly intervene. My melusines cannot do it for me because they cannot leave the waters without it. Do you understand now, mon pouffiasse? It is, as you say, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Her words rang in my ears as the rest of her fingers curled around my face, squeezing my cheeks hard enough to bruise. “Tomorrow, you shall return to the surface, and you shall steal back Angelica’s Ring from your mother. Then—and only then—will my people join you against her.”

The Most Beautiful Shade of Blue

Lou

On deck a scant hour later, Angelica pulled Coco aside as Aurélien, Olympienne, and Sabatay hovered around Célie, bidding her tearful farewells. Truly. Actual tears dripped down Olympienne’s lavender cheeks. Scoffing, Beau readjusted his pack and started down the plank. Halfway to the seafloor, he turned to jerk his chin at me. “Come on.”

I hoisted my own pack over my shoulder. After dinner, Isla had wasted no time in expelling us from her realm. She might’ve been the most conceited creature alive, but she had gifted us supplies for the journey ahead, at least. That included fresh clothes. Sensible ones, this time, and warm ones too. I’d also slipped a new sheath around my thigh, just in case.

Reid drifted along behind, still comatose, as Elvire and Leopoldine escorted us from the city. With each step, the unease I’d been avoiding grew impossible to ignore. It set my teeth on edge, pulsing painfully in my right temple.

Despite my pleas, Isla hadn’t woken him. She’d insisted she couldn’t intervene. I’d insisted we couldn’t rob Chateau le Blanc with a six-and-a-half-foot, two-hundred-pound, unconscious man in tow.

Truthfully, I’d expected him to wake by now. He’d been unconscious for hours.