When we turned to go, Terrance stepped forward from the shadows. Like us, he, Blaise, and Liana hovered a respectable distance away. Ignoring Lou and me, he caught Toulouse’s and Thierry’s eyes. “You could come with us.” His voice resonated deeper than I’d remembered. Blood dripped down his bare chest. The side of his face. His ear had been torn off completely—whether in battle or before, I couldn’t tell. With a start, I realized he must’ve met Toulouse and Thierry at Chateau le Blanc. When they’d all been . . . tortured together. Liana too.

The thought turned my stomach.

Blaise stepped to his son’s side, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “We would be honored.” He cleared the emotion from his throat. “My children . . . they have spoken of how you comforted them. How you gave them hope. I can never repay either of you for this kindness.”

The twins cast subtle glances at Zenna and Seraphine. The former shrugged. Though link-shaped burns marred her visible skin—she’d somehow donned a sparkling fuchsia gown—the rest of her appeared relatively unscathed. Seraphine too. Blood coated her armor, but it didn’t seem to belong to her. I stared at them both incredulously. “How did they escape?”

“Who?” Lou asked. “What happened?”

“The witches—they felled Zenna with a magic chain.”

“Ah.” A hint of a smile touched her lips. “Tarasque’s chain.”

“Like in Zenna’s story.”

“She did say that wasn’t her real name.”

I frowned as she pulled me away in search of the others.

We ended up in Pan’s patisserie.

Outside the boarded windows, Father Achille and a score of huntsmen attempted to free their brethren. Philippe still bellowed orders within his cage of roots. None listened. When at last they freed him, he swiped wildly at Achille, who dodged with the speed of a much younger man before knocking Philippe to the ground. It took five huntsmen to subdue him. Another to clap irons around his wrists.

“You can’t do this!” Veins throbbed in his forehead as he thrashed. “I am a captain of the Chasseurs! Father Gaspard!” He’d nearly burst blood vessels. “Someone summon him—FATHER GASPARD!”

Father Gaspard hadn’t heeded his summons, instead remaining crouched behind a tree in the sanctuary. The Chasseurs had flushed him out while searching for Queen Oliana, who they’d found trapped beneath the pulpit. Though her leg had been fractured, she would face greater pain soon. I didn’t envy the Chasseur who would tell her about her child. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t envy any Chasseur at all.

Unsure what to do with Philippe, Jean Luc and Célie settled on chaining him to a horse post down the street. Out of hearing distance. Thankfully.

They joined us in the patisserie moments later.