“Do not insult my intelligence.” Nostrils flaring once more, Zenna leaned forward to stare into Lou’s eyes. “Yes, I recognize the blight you call Nicholina. Long ago, I knew her by a different name. Nicola.”

Nicholina jerked, snarling, “We do not speak that name. We do not speak it!”

Zenna tilted her head. “But I am only a dragon. I cannot exorcise anyone.”

“The Wistful Waters can,” I said swiftly. “We’re journeying there now. Perhaps you could . . . join us.” I held my breath as I waited, hardly daring to hope. With a dragon on our side, we would reach L’Eau Mélancolique within the day. She could fly us there. She could protect us. Nicholina—even Morgane—wouldn’t dare threaten a dragon.

Zenna didn’t answer right away. Instead she stepped backward, away from us. She straightened her shoulders. Stretched her neck. “Witches are gathering at Chateau le Blanc. We have spied them in the mountains, through the forest. More than we have ever seen. If we are to rescue Toulouse, we must act swiftly. I am sorry.”

“But we can help you! No one knows Chateau le Blanc like Lou does. After we find the pearls for Le Cœur, after we exorcise her—”

“After Toulouse dies, you mean.” Her teeth continued lengthening. Her eyes gleamed gold. “Let me be clear, huntsman—Louise le Blanc may be the center of your universe, but she is not the center of mine. I have made my decision. Every moment I spend arguing with you is a moment Toulouse could lose his life.”

“But—”

“Every moment I spend arguing with you is a moment I might eat you instead.”

“He understands,” Coco said smoothly, stepping in front of Nicholina and me. She raised a hand to motion me backward. Nicholina lunged forward to snap at it. “Go.” Coco jerked her head. “Save Toulouse and the wolves. Raze the Chateau. Just—kill Morgane while you’re at it.” She gestured to the crow carcasses all around us. “Two birds, you know.”

Zenna nodded as Thierry moved to clasp my shoulder, considered Nicholina’s teeth, and thought better of it. We shall see each other soon, mon ami.

I managed a small smile. Zenna was right, of course. Lou was my priority. Toulouse was theirs. “Good luck, frère. Be careful.”

The two of them backed toward the cliff without another word. Seraphine lingered beside us, however, as if searching for words and finding none. At last, she whispered, “I wish we could help more.”

Coco kicked aside a burning crow. “You’ve helped enough.”

“We will kill Morgane if we can,” Seraphine promised.