“Not yet. I had to be sure of the intruder. But I told others. They will inform Our Lady soon.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Shit.” Exhaling a harsh, incredulous breath, Lou clenched her fists before seizing Manon’s collar and yanking her into the stairwell. Beau slammed the door behind them. “This is fine. They don’t know I’m here specifically. We can still—”

“You will not escape again, Louise,” Manon said, her eyes still flat and unexpressive.

“Just—just—” Lou wrung a fist in the witch’s face, and Manon stiffened like a board, unable to move. “Just shut up for a second, Manon. I need to think.” To Coco, Jean Luc, and me, she said hastily, “We can’t go out the way we came in. Any brilliant ideas?”

“We fight our way out,” I said instantly.

Jean Luc’s brow furrowed as he considered strategy. “There are six of us. Enemy numbers unknown. We’ve claimed the higher ground, but we’d need to form a choke point—”

I pounded my fist against the door. “We have one. They can’t break the enchantment—”

“You’re both idiots.” Lou turned imploring eyes on Coco. “Was there anything in the treasury we could use?”

“Can’t you just show them the Goddess has revoked Morgane’s blessing?” Beau waved his hands wildly. “You are their queen now, correct?”

“Again, why didn’t I think of that? I’ll tell you what, Your Highness, why don’t you command your people to stop burning witches, so all of our problems go away?” She turned back to Coco before he could answer. “There was magic fire.”

Clenching her own eyes shut, Coco rubbed her temples. “And plated glass. I also saw chains and swords and—” Her gaze snapped to Lou’s once more, and realization passed between them like a bolt of lightning.

“The window,” they said together.

Lou nodded frenetically. “We’ll need to climb.”

Coco was already dragging Beau and Célie back up the steps. “It’ll be risky—”

“No riskier than a choke point—”

The implication of their words finally settled in. My stomach churned. “No.”

“You’ll be fine.” Patting my arm in a distracted way, Lou raced toward the stairs. “I won’t let you fall.” When I made no move to follow—when the shouts behind grew louder—she lost patience, doubling back and yanking at my hand. I yielded one step. Not another. She spoke with frantic cajolement, still tugging. “Please, Reid. We have to climb, or we’re never getting out of here. They won’t just kill me. They’ll kill you too. Horribly. Slowly. You want a choke point? You don’t have a Balisarda, so you’ll feel every single moment.”

I bared my teeth in a grin. “I’ll risk it.”

Frustration flared in her eyes, and she lifted her hand once more. “If you don’t move, I’ll make you move.”

“Please”—triumphant, I swept my coat aside, revealing the Balisarda and pivoting between her and the stairs—“do.”

When her mouth fell open, astonished, I relished it. Relished her surprise, her fear, her—

The hilt of another knife smashed into my crown, and I staggered forward, into her. She tried to catch me. We both nearly broke our necks. Behind, Beau stood panting, knife still raised. “I don’t need magic to knock your ass out. I’ll drag you onto the roof if necessary. You aren’t dying like this.”

Jean Luc appeared beside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, towering over me. As if they could intimidate. As if they could threaten—

“We can’t defeat an entire castle of witches by ourselves,” Jean Luc said, treacherous and cowardly in equal measure. Judas incarnate. “This is our best option. Get up the stairs, or I’ll help him drag you.”

Footsteps pounded louder now. Biting back a curse—because they were right—I seized Manon and sprinted past them. The scent of magic burst behind me as Lou relocked the door. Upstairs, she swung her arms in frantic movements. The treasure complied, settees and wardrobes shifting, stacking, to form a precarious ladder. “It’s fine.” Beau bent double, hands braced against his knees. “They can’t get through the door. We have time—”

I flung Manon into an empty chair. “We don’t.”

Still rigid, she slid sideways to the floor. “They’ll surround the castle soon.” To Lou, she whispered, “I told you that you won’t escape again.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Lou stomped over as Jean Luc boosted Célie on top of the wardrobe. Beau and Coco scrambled up behind her. Crouching beside the witch’s prostrate body, Lou flipped her over with another wave. Manon relaxed instantly, and Lou—I stared incredulously—she helped the witch sit up with gentle hands. “Morgane ordered you to kill your lover, Manon. Gilles is dead because of her. How can you still serve such a woman? How can you stand idly by as she tortures and kills children?”

Her words acted as a spark to kindling. Manon lurched forward with a feral snarl, snatching Lou’s shoulders. “My sister is one of those dead children, and Morgane did not kill her. I did. Gilles died at no other’s hands but my own. I made a choice in that ally—a choice I cannot undo. I have gone too far now to turn back.” Tears spilled freely down her cheeks at the confession. When she spoke again, her voice broke. “Even if I wanted to.”

I watched, stricken, as Lou hastily wiped her tears. “Listen to me, Manon. No, listen. Look around you”—she motioned to the others, to herself and to me—“and tell me what you see.”

“I see traitors—”

“Exactly.” Lou reached up to clutch Manon’s wrists, eyes wide and imploring. “I betrayed my coven. Reid and Jean Luc have betrayed their Church, and Beau and Célie have betrayed their Crown. All of us—we’re fighting for a better world, just like you are. We want the same thing, Manon. We want peace.”

Manon’s entire body trembled with emotion as her tears continued to fall. They stained Lou’s lap. Stained the dirty floor between them, glittering bright in the firelight. At last, Manon dropped her hands. “You’ll never have it.”

Lou studied Manon’s face wistfully for a moment—regretfully—before rising to her feet. “You’re wrong. There are very few choices in life that can’t be unmade, and the time has come for you to make another one. I won’t restrain or otherwise harm you. Go. Tell Morgane you saw me if you must, but don’t try to stop us. We’re leaving.”

Manon didn’t move.

Lou stalked to the furniture without another word—then hesitated. She glanced over her shoulder. Instead of Manon, however, her eyes found mine, and she spoke in a murmur. “You’ve stalled long enough, Reid. Climb up. I promise you won’t fall.”

I swallowed hard. Somehow, she knew my chest had tightened and my vision had narrowed. She knew my palms had started to sweat. She knew I’d hesitated beside Manon not to protect the group from her wrath, but to prolong the inevitable. To think of some way—any way—out of this room except the window. And that meant she knew my weakness, my vulnerability. Anger blazed through the thick paralysis of my thoughts, spurring me toward the furniture.