“Enough.” Voice sharp, I pivoted in one last circle to ensure I hadn’t missed anything. But my desperation yielded nothing new. Anchois boasted no pearls, black or otherwise.

“My apologies.” Célie sniffed in a dignified way. “It shan’t happen again.”

“You’re going to smell like fish for at least a fortnight,” Beau said.

Exhaling hard through my nose, I wheeled to face him. “Could you at least try to stop provoking everyo—”

A wooden sign behind him caught my attention. A familiar name.

LA CURIEUSE MADAME SAUVAGE

PRICES AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST

I frowned and nudged him aside. Madame Sauvage. I knew that name. How did I know that name? The sign itself—half-hidden and half-rotted—stood between a stall of spindly combs and a barrel of fish oil. I pointed to it. “That wasn’t there before, was it?”

Coco’s eyes narrowed as she followed my finger. “I don’t see anything.”

“Well, look. It’s right—” I blinked, and the words died on my tongue. I was pointing at the fish oil, not the sign. Because there was no sign. Dropping my finger hastily, I shook my head. Blinked again. “I—never mind.”

“Nothing there,” Nicholina said, her voice unexpectedly harsh. She tugged on Coco’s hand. “Nothing, nothing.”

Coco huffed impatiently before drawing her cloak more tightly around her. “If you’re quite done—” But her eyes widened when she glanced back. “That—that wasn’t there before.”

Slowly, as if cornering a frightened animal, my gaze returned to the stall and barrel. Sure enough, the wooden sign had rematerialized between them. Emerald and aubergine silk fluttered from the cart behind it. As if it’d been there all along.

“Magic,” Célie whispered.

Coco and I shared a wary glance before creeping forward.

Though I clutched a knife in my bandolier, the cart itself didn’t seem dangerous. Jewelry of all shapes and colors gleamed from the cluttered shelves. Real jewelry. With gemstones and precious metals, not fish bones and octopi tentacles. An assortment of dusty bottles joined them. Dried flowers. Leather-bound books. On a ledge at the back, a crimson-and-gold snake slumbered in a glass cage. Célie approached it in fascination.

I took a deep breath, trying and failing to suppress my unease.

No, it didn’t seem dangerous, but there—displayed proudly on the middle shelf—three black pearls nestled in a bed of velvet. It couldn’t have been coincidence. When Beau moved toward them, eager, I stilled him with the shake of my head, glancing around for the owner. This mysterious Madame Sauvage. Though nowhere to be seen, she’d tacked a scrap of parchment to the sign:

WILL RETURN

Coco caught the tail of the emerald silk between two fingers. “Perfect. Makes this easy.”

“Too easy,” I said before grasping her meaning. Then— “Wait. You want to steal them?”