“You will love Culinnon when you see it,” Ambrosine continued. “Won’t they love Culinnon, Bellamy?”

The mousy woman nearly dropped her fork at being addressed. “Yes. Very much. It is truly a magical place.”

Leo and Sera exchanged a glance.

“But it is Braxos you need to get to,” Ambrosine said to Sera. “How remarkable that it appeared just as you . . . arrived.” Sera had never thought of it like that—that her presence on the planet had something to do with the reveal of Braxos.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she said, taking another sip of wine.

“As I was telling Bellamy earlier, it is simply marvelous that we have a chance to help my grandson’s friend. His return to Pelago is a gift to the family, a gift that will only grow once dear Agnes is found and can join us.”

“A gift,” Bellamy agreed. Ambrosine’s eyes flashed and the woman looked down at her plate, quickly shoving a tomato in her mouth.

“Are there more of your kind on Braxos?” Ambrosine asked, turning back to Sera.

She shook her head. “My City is tethered there. I am the only Cerulean on this planet.”

“Fascinating.” Ambrosine tapped her jaw with a bony finger. “Well, I have plenty of ships that can take us. I’ve lost some, of course, trying to find Braxos myself.” She said it dismissively, but Sera got the sense that she was more upset by the loss than she let on. “But now you are here and can show us the way. I assume you know the way?”

Sera blinked but Leo said, “Of course she does.” Sera was grateful that she didn’t have to lie, but she didn’t know how to get to Braxos any more than Ambrosine. She hoped Agnes would not abandon Errol. He was their only hope.

Sera also did not like the thought of taking Ambrosine to Braxos—but she was not in a position to do much about it. They needed to get past Culinnon and they needed a ship.

“You know, there are so many tales of the Lost Islands in this country,” Ambrosine said as their salads were cleared and a second course of hazelnut profiteroles with blue cheese and grapes was set before them. “Many that involve the Byrnes directly, though we don’t like to talk about that with outsiders. But since we are among family and . . .” She turned to Sera with a smile that felt vaguely poisonous. “Close friends, there’s no harm in a little storytelling, is there? Perhaps you, Sera, can add your own tales as well.”

“Are you family?” Leo asked, turning to Bellamy.

She started. “I’m—”

“Bellamy is my son Hektor’s wife,” Ambrosine said. “I take her with me whenever I travel. She brings me such comfort.”

The words held the indistinct shadow of a threat. Bellamy’s shoulders tensed and her lips twitched.