“Do not worry, Louise.” A hint of that unnatural glow reentered her eyes, and I stepped back despite myself. “His injuries are not fatal. He will wake—of that, I am certain. His path forward, however, cannot yet be seen.”

The waters see things we cannot see, know things we cannot know. Constantin’s warning repeated in my mind. Angelica was a seer, and her magic shaped them.

“Your path, on the other hand, is clear.” She gestured down the narrow split in the waters. It led straight into the heart of L’Eau Mélancolique. In the silver light of the moon, the mist from its flowing walls sparkled like flecks of diamond. She looked almost apologetically to Coco. “I am sorry, fille, that our reunion is fraught with such complication. When you summoned me—”

“I didn’t know I was summoning you,” Coco interjected.

Angelica nodded, though something like pain flashed through her eyes. “Of course. When you called upon the waters, I heard it. I felt your need, and I—well, I needed to answer it.” Her voice gentled as she continued, though she spoke with no less certainty. “There is much you don’t understand, Cosette. I know you are angry with me—as you well should be—but we do not have the luxury of time for lengthy explanations and apologies.”

Coco stiffened at the straightforward words, and I squeezed her arm. Angelica was right, however; this wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. Not with Morgane and Josephine roaming near, not with a corpse at our feet, trapped between colossal walls of water. I eyed them nervously as a long silver fin flicked past.

“To do so,” Angelica continued, recapturing my attention, “you must understand three things. First, I am no longer safe outside these waters. Isla’s benevolence protects me, and she risked much in allowing me to come here. My sister lives in fear of my magic—in fear of Isla herself—but if Josephine had tried to enter these waters, I would not have been able to stop her. For as much as this magic is yours through birth, it is also hers because of our blood bond.”

She didn’t give us another chance to interrupt. “Understand this second: all of your life, Cosette, I have watched you.” Those blue eyes eddied with white, and fresh gooseflesh lifted the hair on my arms. It lifted Coco’s too. “I know where you have been and who you have loved. I know you have scoured the kingdom—from La Fôret des Yeux to Le Ventre to Fée Tombe—for allies against Morgane. You have befriended the Beast of Gévaudan and the Wild Man of the Forest. You have entranced dragons and witches and werewolves alike.”

For the first time, she hesitated, the white in her eyes flaring brighter. To me, she said, “You still wish to defeat your mother?”

“Of course I do, but what—?”