She waited another second just to spite me. Then another. And another. “Well, now that we’ve sorted that.” With a mighty heave, she pulled me over the eave once more. I collapsed beside her in a pool of shaking limbs, nearly retching at her feet.

“Don’t you ever lie to me again.”

She poked my cheek. “I wouldn’t have dropped you.”

“Lies!”

“Well”—she lifted an easy shoulder—“maybe I would’ve, but I wouldn’t have let you splatter.” Her smile turned almost self-deprecating. “Come on, Chass. I would’ve moved the entire castle before I let you die.”

“Why?” The word burst from me, sudden and unbidden. This wasn’t the time for such a question. This wasn’t the place, either—not with witches crawling within and without. They probably gathered below even now, waiting to devour us. Manon would’ve told them. She would’ve pressed their advantage. No shouts sounded from the ground, however, and no magic ensnared us. “Why did you save me? Why did you let the witch go? You—you comforted her. You wiped her tears. We both want to kill you.”

The realization shocked me into silence. Manon had wanted to kill her. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. Manon and La Voisin and even Morgane, her own mother, wanted her dead. But—my thoughts congealed like mud—that wasn’t quite right either. I do not have a daughter, Morgane had claimed. Could she too have forgotten her daughter, as I had forgotten my wife? Or had Lou lied about both? I regarded her suspiciously as she rose. “Why?” I repeated firmly.

Patting my cheek, she slipped over the eave without me. Her voice drifted upward with the wind. “Ask me no questions, mon amour, and I shall tell you no lies.”

I frowned at the simple words. Then winced. These felt different than others, biting and snapping like insects. I shook my head to dislodge them, but they remained. They burrowed deeper. Familiar and painful and jarring. Ask me no questions. Though I remained on the rooftop, my vision pitched abruptly, and instead of shingles and smoke, I saw trees, gnarled roots, a bottle of wine. Blue-green eyes. Sickening déjà vu. And I’ll tell you no lies.

No. I shook my head, wrenching free of the imagery, and stabbed my knife into stone. This was here. Another stab. This was real. I swung myself lower. This was now. Stab, stab. I didn’t remember her. Stab. It hadn’t happened. Stab, stab, stab.