They all stared at me in the ensuing silence. Heat prickled my neck. My face. “I don’t care.”

Lou pushed to her feet. “She’s your mother.”

“I said I don’t care.” With a snarl, I pivoted to return to the horses—regretting my decision to rejoin the group, to rejoin her—but Célie pointed to my bag with a frown.

“Erm . . . Reid? Your satchel is moving.”

My satchel is . . . Her words pierced my thoughts a second too late. I glanced down.

Then I threw my bag across the room.

Something within it shrieked as it hit the wall. Seeds and clothing and weapons spilled forth, along with what looked like a pastry and a—and a rat. Célie screamed and leapt atop the bed. Beau joined her. Lou, however, swooped to seize the pastry as the rat bolted through a crack in the wall. She held it up between two fingers. “Is this what I think it is?”

“How should I know?” Furious, I swept the seeds back into their pouch. Jean Luc handed me my shirt. My pants. I stuffed them away without ceremony. Then I snatched the pastry from her. “Whatever it is, it’s mine.”

“This is a sticky bun.” She didn’t let go. “Have you had this with you the entire time?”

The bun tore between our fingers. “I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember buying it?”

“No.”

“Clearly you bought it for me, then. It’s mine.”

“It isn’t yours—”

Célie cleared her throat as we continued to grapple over the admittedly stale pastry. “A rat was just eating that, correct?”

“Not all of it.” Eyes blazing, Lou tugged hard, and the bun tore in two. She moved to take a mighty bite.

Fire lit in my own chest, and I swiped at it. “Give that back—”

Coco slapped the bun from her hand before I could. “No,” she said, matter-of-fact. “We won’t be doing that.” Dropping the pouch of seeds into my bag, she turned to resume her own packing. “Get along, children.”

Lou and I glared at each other.

The Rift

Lou

The mist enveloped us later that afternoon.

We dismounted into it at the edge of the path, glancing around for signs of life. Constantin had died; did that mean the waters held no guardian? Could we simply . . . walk to shore? Should we?

“Beau, Célie, and Jean Luc, you should all stay here, just in case,” I whispered. “Isla’s magic protected you before, but we don’t know if she’ll extend the same courtesy this time. I’ll take the ring to her.” I looked to Coco. “Will you come too?”