When we finally reached the shores of L’Eau Mélancolique, the water supporting Reid burst—the last of Angelica’s magic falling away—and he collapsed upon the sand. I immediately dropped to my knees beside him. “Shit.” I checked his pulse again, pried open his eyelids to assess his pupils. All sounded and looked perfectly healthy.

Exhaling harshly, I poked him in the ribs. Nothing. I flicked his nose. Nothing again. I blew in his face, his eyes, unlaced his boot to tickle his foot, even slapped him smartly across the cheek. Nothing, nothing, nothing. My chest tightened with frustration as I dragged him to the water’s edge. When splashing his face yielded no results, I swore viciously and prepared to dunk his entire head—his entire body, if necessary—but Beau stopped me with an impatient hand. “I don’t think drowning him is an option.”

“It worked for me—”

“You’ve tried magic, I assume?” His eyes darted up the path and into the mountains. I didn’t blame him. Morgane and Josephine could’ve been watching us at this very moment. Still . . . as much as Isla had insisted she wouldn’t get involved, I doubted she’d forgive an attack on her people so quickly. Constantin had been under her protection. It would be a very brave witch indeed—or perhaps a very stupid one—who trespassed on these shores again. Morgane and Josephine were neither brave nor stupid.

Here, we were safe. For now.

“The patterns are in a knot.” I resisted the urge to snap at Beau again in light of his confession. It must’ve been hard to admit such things aloud. I appreciated them. “I can’t make any sense of it.”

Coco approached tentatively. “I could take some of his blood.”

My mind immediately recoiled from the idea. The last time Coco had taken blood, she’d foreseen Ansel’s death, and I’d had quite enough of misinterpreting the future.

“Angelica said—” Célie started, but I interrupted impatiently.

“We don’t have time for cryptic advice. He needs to wake now.”

Célie crouched beside me in response, placing a comforting hand on my back, and I felt like the world’s greatest ass.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I just don’t know what to do. If we don’t wake him, we can’t steal Angelica’s Ring, and if we don’t steal Angelica’s Ring, we can’t count on the melusines to join us against Morgane. Without the melusines—”

“I understand.” Her hand drew soothing circles. “At least Reid is all right. He is. Look at him.” Forcing my eyes open, I watched him breathe, each swell and fall of his chest a small comfort. Célie smiled. “Truly, he could be only sleeping. An enchanted sleep, perhaps, but—”

Her eyes flew wide.

“What?” I lurched upright. “What is it, Célie?”