The ropes at her ankles had disintegrated, and she lifted a leg, kicking him squarely in the chest. He stumbled backward from the platform—a pillar of flame—and fell straight into Coco’s arms.

Coco stared at him in horror.

“No.” She shook her head frantically, dropping to the snow. Packing it over his skin. He thrashed helplessly. “Beau. Beau, look at me—” Tendrils curled up her arms now, but she ignored them. My own muscles jerked and twitched as I watched, helpless. The snow did nothing to suppress the flame. There was no escape from this, no extinguishant, no magic to help us now. Not even Lou’s. “No, no, no. Please, Beau. Beau.”

“I’m so sorry, Reid,” Lou gasped. “I can’t stop it, but I can—I can help—” She twisted to look in my eyes. “I love you. Find peace.”

Find peace.

The words snapped and cracked between us, out of place. Surely I’d misheard her. They couldn’t be right. Because here—burning in a lake of black fire—there could be no peace. Not for her. Not for me. Not as our bones melted and our skin peeled.

She flexed her hand.

The ropes on my wrists snapped in response, and I flew from the platform in a rush of hot air. Landing hard on the street, I twisted to look at her. But I could no longer see, no longer hear. Pain stole my senses, and my golden patterns scattered into dust, settling as a veil over the scene.

Except it wasn’t this scene any longer.

The mob dimmed amidst the gold, replaced by another crowd. The black fire vanished. A different stake pierced the sky, and a different witch writhed against it. Her cornsilk hair burned first. I stood before the platform, hands clasped, with the Archbishop beside me. A Balisarda gleamed at my chest.

Witch killer witch killer witch killer

The memory dissipated before I could fully grasp it.

But the pain—the excruciating heat—it vanished abruptly as new magic burst around us. Its scent overpowered the smoke. The cooked flesh. Though flames still devoured my clothing, blistered my skin, I felt only cold snow. Beside me, Beau’s eyes snapped open. He settled in Coco’s arms.

Then Lou began to scream.

She screamed, and she screamed until her throat should’ve torn open at the sound. Until her heart should’ve stopped. The agony on her face shone clear as she writhed. Like her pain had tripled. Quadrupled.

Understanding dawned.

I struggled to my feet.

She’d taken our pain from us. It was all she could do.

“Lou.” Coco sobbed her name, rocking Beau as they burned. Pleading. When her tears fell, they hissed against his face. Instead of stoking the fire, however, the drops quenched it. His skin sizzled. Healed. Thunder rumbled overhead. “Don’t do this, Lou, please—”