“You lost them, you mean?” When Reid nodded, she clicked her tongue in disappointment. I inched closer, studying her face. She seemed . . . familiar, somehow. Like I’d met her before. And her disappointment—I glanced around, uncertain—it felt staged. Zenna still smiled behind us, and that smile had spread to Seraphine, Toulouse, and Thierry. Madame Sauvage winked at them. “Well, Monsieur le Blanc, just how should we proceed? We made a bargain, you remember.”

Reid nodded grimly. “I’ll procure another pearl for you, madame. I promise.”

“You promised”—Madame Sauvage unfurled her fingers slowly, revealing a handful of seeds in her palm—“to plant the seeds.”

We all stared at them.

“How did you—?” Reid started.

Her dark eyes gleamed. Pressing the seeds into his hand, she said, “A fortuitous location, indeed. If you plant them—if you care for them—they will grow.” When Reid didn’t move, when he only studied the seeds with open suspicion, Madame Sauvage poked his chest. “Well, what are you waiting for? Do it now! I’m not getting any younger.”

“I don’t have a shovel—”

With an impatient sigh, Lou waved her hand, and the seeds flew outward in a sharp burst of magic, scattering across the grove. In the next second, they burrowed into the ground of their own accord. “There.” She thrust her arm through Reid’s. “Are we settled? Have we honored this ridiculous bargain?”

Trees burst from the ground as Madame Sauvage’s answer.

Pear trees.

They climbed skyward at a rapid pace, white blossoms blooming and falling to reveal hard green fruit. A dozen in all—one tree for each seed planted. Lou gasped as Reid stared, as Beau leapt backward, and Madame Labelle stretched incredulously to touch one of the low-hanging fruit. Shaking her head, she whirled to face the old woman. “Who are you?”

Madame Sauvage bowed, looking meaningfully at Lou. “A friend.”

She turned without another word, and as suddenly as she’d hobbled into our presence, she hobbled out, leaving only the peculiar scent of . . . of earth in her wake. Of fresh grass and pine sap and pears. Still smiling, Zenna, Seraphine, Toulouse, and Thierry followed after her.

Lou watched them go, slack-jawed, until unexpected laughter burst from her. Until she was breathless with it. She turned to Reid, tears of mirth lining her turquoise eyes. “That nosy son of a bitch—”

I didn’t hear the rest, however. Because at the edge of the grove, Madame Sauvage looked back to meet my gaze. My gaze. With a small smile, she inclined her head toward something behind me.

“Ansel.”

I turned at that voice, at that presence. I recognized it now as innately as my own.