“We do have the element of surprise.” At the edge of my thoughts, the beginning of a plan began to take shape. I didn’t look at it too closely, instead worrying a loose thread in the blanket. Allowing it to form. It wouldn’t solve the Morgane problem—though in truth, problem seemed too mild a word for the picture Angelica had painted. A battle brews on the horizon more catastrophic than this world has ever seen.

We couldn’t focus on that now. The plan had changed. Madame Labelle would come first, and then—then came catastrophic battles. I tugged at the thread viciously, unraveling part of the blanket. “We won’t be able to slip into the city undetected. We couldn’t manage it before, even when no one knew we were coming. Now they’ll be expecting us.”

“Do I hear a but?” Beau asked.

I looked up at him then. Looked up at them all. “Maybe we don’t need to slip in undetected. Maybe we announce our arrival.” I grinned slightly, though I didn’t particularly feel like grinning. “Maybe we let them arrest us.”

“What?” Beau exclaimed.

“No, listen.” I leaned forward, pointing again at Célie and Jean Luc. “We have an aristocrat with a death wish and a huntsman madly in love with her. A captain. He’s deadly skilled and highly trained, and—more importantly—he has the respect of the Crown and Church. If Célie struck out on a quest for vengeance—against me, against Reid, against all witches—of course he would catch up with her. Of course he would incapacitate us, and of course he would bring us back to Cesarine to burn. He would even arrest the lawless crown prince in the process.”

“They’ll throw you all in prison.” The wind ruffled Coco’s wild curls as she considered. “The same prison where they hold Madame Labelle.”

“Exactly. Jean Luc can relieve the guard, and I’ll magic us all out.”

“They’ll inject you with hemlock,” Jean Luc said.

“Not if you’ve already done it.” I slumped as if incapacitated to demonstrate, my head lolling on Coco’s shoulder. “You forget I’m an accomplished liar, and your brethren trust you.”

“If you escape under my watch, they’ll know I’ve helped you. They’ll strip my captaincy.”

Coco, who’d been penning our plan—scratching out and writing anew as it formed—looked up with a dark expression. “They’ll do a lot worse than that.” Slipping a knife from her cloak, she cut a fine line on her forearm, positioning the cut over the paper. With each drop, the paper sizzled and vanished. To me, she said, “I asked Claud—and I assume Zenna and Seraphine—to find Blaise and meet us at Léviathan afterward. If they managed to heal Toulouse, Liana, and Terrance, they’ll be able to heal Madame Labelle.”