“Your mistress will keep waiting.” I readjusted my grip to enunciate the point. The crows couldn’t happen again. We’d need to be more vigilant. From here until L’Eau Mélancolique, I’d release her only for Coco to recoat her ropes. If she still planned to take Lou to Josephine—to Morgane—she’d have to drag my corpse behind. Exhaling slow, heavy, I asked Zenna, “How are you here? You said Claud sensed Thierry?”

She turned those golden eyes toward me. “Claud is not like you. He is not even like me.”

“Yes, but—why didn’t he sense Thierry before? Why couldn’t he have found Thierry in the tunnels? Before Morgane—” I stopped myself from asking the next question. Nicholina asked it for me.

“Before she tortured him?”

Fresh smoke erupted from Zenna’s nose. “Claud has never claimed to be the supreme deity, huntsman. Only divine. He is not omniscient, and he is not omnipotent. He did sense Thierry in the tunnels. When the Hellfire sparked, however”—she cast a baleful look in Coco’s direction—“he lost the connection. We believed the fire’s magic had cloaked Thierry’s presence. We didn’t realize it was Chateau le Blanc. When Thierry escaped its enchantment three days ago, Claud felt him once more. I flew north to find him immediately.” After blinking with secondary, vertical eyelids, her eyes flicked back to brown. “Seraphine and I have scoured these mountains for days. We couldn’t fly low enough to properly search without risking exposure, forcing us to walk.” Her lip curled at the word.

Seraphine patted her arm. “When we reached Fée Tombe this morning, Zenna finally caught Thierry’s scent. Still fresh. We followed it to the lighthouse, where we met with an angry mob.”

“They’d already chased you away,” Zenna growled, “but we followed.” A cruel smile curved her painted lips. “The crows were a tasty coincidence. You are welcome.”

“Wait a moment.” Lifting a finger, Beau frowned between them, incredulous. Perhaps indignant. “Does this mean Claud didn’t send you for us? Did he not hear our prayer?”

Zenna arched a brow. “Your arrogance astounds.”

“It’s hardly arrogant to expect the help of a friend—”

“He is not your friend. He is a god. If you speak to him, he will listen. He will not, however,” she added firmly, eyes narrowing, “always answer. You do not have a god at your beck and call, any of you. He is of the Old World, and as such, he is bound by the Old Laws. He cannot directly intervene.”

Beau’s frown deepened to a scowl. I spoke before he could argue. “Can you help us, then? Nicholina has possessed Lou. We have to exorcise her.”