“Undoubtedly,” Tristan replied. “And she’s confident enough that she’s not even trying to hide it.”

“Why take so much risk?” Sabine asked. “There will be countless people there to witness what she does. People who will remember her face and who she was. There are better places to kill you.”

“Agreed,” Tristan said. “But both Cécile and Genevieve will be there, and I cannot help but think that means something.”

Longest Night… I exhaled a ragged breath. “It’s the solstice.”

Chris, who had learned more about magic in the previous months than he probably ever wanted, nodded. “Witches can draw on more power during moments of transitions like the solstices and…” He broke off, turning toward the window and then back to me. “The full moon. Cécile, tomorrow night is a full moon.”

“How often do they occur together?” Sabine asked.

“I don’t know.” I glanced at Tristan, but he shook his head. “I never spent much time studying astronomy – there wasn’t much point. Pierre would without a doubt know, but asking him is obviously out of the question. But what difference does it make? Her magic won’t work against me.”

An idea began to tickle my mind and with it came fear. “Do you have my map? The list of dead women that was tucked into Catherine’s grimoire?”

He silently retrieved the paper from a locked chest and handed it to me. My eyes roved over the names, and the years that they had died. Nearly always nineteen or thirty-eight years apart, with a few exceptions. A weak and baseless pattern. Unless it wasn’t. I set the paper on the table and pressed a hand to my mouth. I’d left my mother alone, thinking that we had years before she was in any danger. But what if we’d been wrong?

I dropped my hand to my lap. “We need to know when the last time the full moon and winter solstice were in conjunction. We need to know all the times it has been. And we need a reliable source.”

“I know what you’re suggesting,” Tristan said flatly, “and the answer is no.”

“We need to find out if there is a pattern,” I said. “This might be the only way we can predict her actions. And frankly, we need to know what is really happening in Trollus.”

“How?” He grimaced. “It isn’t as if we can waltz into the city and ask. My father’s control over Trollus is uncertain, and we can be sure that Angoulême will do everything in his power to thwart us.”

“We wouldn’t waltz in,” I said. “We’d sneak.”

Tristan shook his head. “Even if we managed to get into the city, there isn’t a chance of me making it all the way to Pierre unnoticed. My magic is too strong – they’ll know it’s me.”

“Which is why I’ll go alone.”

He leveled me with a chilling glare. “Even if it were worth the risk, it would be impossible. There are two ways into the city, and both are gated and guarded.”