Without a word, she looped her arm through mine in an admirable effort of normalcy. But there was nothing normal about this place. Nothing normal about how we simultaneously bent to draw knives from our boots. Despite the daylight hour, smoke still clouded the sun, and mist darkened the land to perpetual twilight. The latter clung to us as we stepped forward, dense as water, and limited our visibility—which was why we both shrieked when Reid’s hand snaked out and caught my elbow. “Don’t even think about it.”

I shook him off with an indignant cry. “Don’t do that! If you want to tag along, fine, but announce yourself next time. I could’ve chopped off your hand!”

Coco’s eyes narrowed. “He might plan worse.”

He glared at her, the fog undulating around his towering frame. “I don’t trust either of you. You aren’t leaving my sight.”

“You aren’t exactly endearing yourself to us,” Coco said, poisonously sweet.

“I have a Balisarda. There could be witches here.”

“Oh, there are witches here.”

He gritted his teeth. “Manon could’ve told them what we stole. They could be waiting.”

She pretended to consider this for a moment before shrugging. “Fine. As long as you don’t stick that Balisarda into me instead.” It was a mark of how far they’d both come that she turned her back on him, pulling me forward. He followed without comment.

We walked the path as quietly as possible, listening for any sound, but there were none. Not the rustle of leaves or the crash of waves or the cries of gulls. No, this silence was a living creature all its own, unnatural and thick and oppressive. When we stepped onto the beach, we hesitated, blinking into the abrupt sunlight and standing closer together than we normally would’ve.

“Do we just throw the ring in, or—?”

As if my whisper had broken some sort of spell, Angelica materialized from the water like a specter, silent and ethereal, water streaming from her gown of pure silver. When her eyes landed on Coco, her tranquil face broke into a breathtaking smile. “Cosette. You’ve returned.”

“I told you I would.”

Tugging the golden ring from my hand, I hastily extended it to her. “Here. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, Louise.” Her smile faded as she examined the simple band in her palm. Though it sparkled innocently in the sun, we both knew better. Its history had been forged in death and magic until the two had become one. “It has been a long time since I’ve seen this ring.” Regretfully, her eyes lifted to Coco. “Almost twenty years, in fact.”

“Does this mean Isla agrees to help us?” I asked.

She ignored me, instead moving to clasp Coco’s hands. “Daughter. Events have been set in motion. I fear this is the last opportunity we shall have to speak.”