Parting Lou’s lips, she tipped the entire vial between them. Honey followed.

Color immediately returned to Lou’s cheeks, and her breathing deepened. The blisters on her mouth vanished. The transformed scar, however, remained. If I looked too close, it seemed to . . . ripple in the breeze. Unconsciously, I lifted a hand to touch it, but Beau cleared his throat, startling me. He’d moved closer than I’d realized.

I dropped my hand.

“What happens when she wakes up?” he asked.

Coco’s grin faded. “We exorcise Nicholina.”

“How?”

Silence reigned in answer. Waves lapped the black sand. A lone gull cried overhead. At last, Célie offered a tentative, “You said . . . you said my father’s locket—”

“My mother’s locket,” Coco corrected her.

“Of course.” Célie nodded in haste, trying her best not to look horribly, terribly out of her depth. “Y-You said the magic of your mother’s locket stems from L’Eau Mélancolique. It showed us Nicholina’s true reflection.”

“And?”

“You said the waters can heal.”

“I also said the waters can harm. They were created from the tears of a madwoman.” Coco stood, tucking the empty vials back into her pack. I remained beside Lou, tracking the rise and fall of her chest. Her eyelids began to twitch. “They’re volatile. Temperamental. They’re just as likely to kill Lou as to restore her. We can’t risk it.”

Between one breath and another, an idea sparked. My gaze darted to Célie. The empty sheath on my bandolier—right above my heart—weighed heavier than usual. I hadn’t felt its absence since Modraniht. “We need a Balisarda, Célie.” I scrambled to my feet. Sand flew in every direction as I rushed toward her. “Jean Luc—you can contact him, right?” She murmured something unintelligible in response, her gaze dropping to her boot with keen interest. “If you ask, he’ll bring you his Balisarda, and we can—”

“And we can what?” Beau asked, perplexed. Célie stooped to pick up a whitewashed shell, hiding her face altogether. “Cut Nicholina out of her?”

“We’d just need to break her skin with the blade,” I said, thinking rapidly. Yes. Yes, this could work. I plucked the seashell from Célie’s hand and discarded it. She watched it go with a forlorn expression, still refusing to look at me. “A Balisarda dispels enchantments. It would exorcise Nicholina—”

Beau lifted a casual, mocking hand. “Just how deep would we need to cut, brother? Would it be a simple slice down her arm, or would a spear through her heart suffice?”

I shot him a glare before gripping Célie’s freed hands. “Write to him, Célie.” Then, in another burst of inspiration, I spun toward Coco. “You could magic him the letter, like you did with your aunt in the Hollow.”