Madame Sauvage’s entire face split into a grin. “Oh, no, Your Highness, you have entirely the wrong idea! Never fear, ’tis nothing nefarious. You see, I deal only in simple favors. Just tokens, really. Trifles.”

I scowled. “Nothing simple about a favor.”

“What favor?” Coco asked, part apprehensive and part impatient. “Just tell us, so we can do it.”

“Of course, of course.” If possible, Madame Sauvage’s smile widened. “As I said, it’s quite simple: one favor for one pearl. My apologies,” she added to Beau and Célie, inclining her head, “but truly, L’Eau Mélancolique is no place for humans. ’Tis dark and dangerous, dears. More than monsters lurk within its depths.”

Beau scoffed in disbelief. “What are we supposed to do, then? Twiddle our thumbs on the shore?”

“How do you know so much about L’Eau Mélancolique?” Coco asked at the same time.

“Tell us the favors.” I raised my voice over theirs. Yes, this strange little cart had appeared from thin air. This stranger little woman seemed to know all our plans, to know Nicholina. Truthfully, she seemed more . . . inquisitive than nefarious, and what choice did we have? We needed the pearls. Her pearls. We could deal with the consequences after we’d procured them.

The woman in question rubbed her gnarled hands together. “We’ll start with the easy one, yes? Just a kiss.”

Just a kiss.

Silence descended like a knife dropped point-first. Instead of lodging at our feet, however, it hovered over our heads. Deadly and sharp. No one dared look at another. I didn’t glance at Célie or Nicholina. Neither peeked at me. Beau and Coco stared resolutely at the floor. Finally, I asked, “Between . . . who?”

Cackling, Madame Sauvage lifted a crooked finger to Beau and Coco.

The knife hit its mark.

Beau stiffened. Coco gaped. The tension knotting my own spine, however, left in a rush, and I tried not to sigh with relief. Célie had no qualms. She sagged against a basket of beetles with a shaky laugh.

“The liars, of course.” Madame Sauvage nodded with what might’ve been encouragement. Or glee. “They shall kiss, and the truth shall out. There is truth in a kiss,” she added to Célie and me conspiratorially. Célie nodded, though I suspected not because she agreed. No. Because she’d do anything to avoid Madame Sauvage’s ire now.

I nodded right along with her.

Coco barely moved her lips as she mumbled, “I’m not lying about anything.”

Beau snorted at that.

Though sympathetic to Coco’s plight—truly—I reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “Whatever it takes, right?”

She scowled at me.

I smothered a grin. I wasn’t enjoying this. I wasn’t.