She pulled me down beside her now, stroking my throat almost absently. At her cold touch, a shiver skittered down my spine, and a sudden desire to shift away seized me. I ignored it. Silence blanketed the room, thick and heavy, except for the growls of my stomach. Hunger was a constant companion now. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten my fill. With Troupe de Fortune? In the Hollow? The Tower? Across the aisle, Coco’s breathing gradually evened. I focused on the sound, on the beams of the ceiling, rather than Lou’s frigid skin or the ache in my chest.

A moment later, however, shouts exploded from the scullery, and the sanctuary door burst open. Beau shot forward, hotfooting it past the pulpit. “Bumfuzzle!” He gestured wildly toward the exit as I vaulted to my feet. “Time to go! Right now, right now, let’s go—”

“Stop!” A gnarled man in the vestments of a priest charged into the sanctuary, wielding a wooden spoon. Yellowish stew dripped from it. As if Beau had interrupted his morning meal. The flecks of vegetable in his beard—grizzled, unkempt, concealing most of his face—confirmed my suspicions. “I said get back here—”

He stopped abruptly, skidding to a halt when he saw the rest of us. Instinctively, I turned to hide my face in the shadows. Lou flung her hood over her white hair, and Coco stood, tensing to run. But it was too late. Recognition sparked in his dark eyes.

“Reid Diggory.” His dark gaze swept from my head to my toes before shifting behind me. “Louise le Blanc.” Unable to help himself, Beau cleared his throat from the foyer, and the priest considered him briefly before scoffing and shaking his head. “Yes, I know who you are too, boy. And you,” he added to Coco, whose hood still cloaked her face in darkness. True to his word, Jean Luc had added her wanted poster beside ours. The priest’s eyes narrowed on the blade she’d drawn. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

“We’re sorry for trespassing.” I lifted my hands in supplication, glaring at Coco in warning. Slowly, I slid into the aisle, inched toward the exit. At my back, Lou matched my steps. “We didn’t mean any harm.”

The priest snorted but lowered his spoon. “You broke into my home.”

“It’s a church.” Apathy dulled Coco’s voice, and her hand dropped as if it suddenly couldn’t bear the dagger’s weight. “Not a private residence. And the door was unlocked.”

“Perhaps to lure us in,” Lou suggested with unexpected relish. Head tilted, she stared at the priest in fascination. “Like a spider to its web.”

The priest’s brows dipped at the abrupt shift in conversation, as did mine. Beau’s voice reflected our confusion. “What?”