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“No,” she says sharply—too sharply—before her voice softens again with what looks like supreme effort. “Please, Célie, as a personal favor, just stay here until Michal collects you at dawn. Do not leave your room.”

“Odessa, what is going on? You and Michal have been acting—strangesince we came ashore. If you want my cooperation with this mysterious plan of yours, you could at least include me in the details.”

Her expression hardens, and her hands jerk as if she forcibly restrains herself from clapping them over my mouth. “There is no plan,” she hisses. “There are no details. As a friend, I am simply asking you to stay in your room.”

My eyes narrow. “Well then, as afriend, shall I remind you that revenants are still crawling across the isle? That the veil is in pieces?” I gesture to the tapestry behind her, where a golden-haired maiden once slept upon a crimson settee. She isn’t sleeping any longer. With a knife in her chest and ashen skin, the maiden has clearly died; a black moth lands in the pool of blood beneath her. As in the market, the corridor beyond the tapestry appears drained of all life. Softened, somehow. Faint. Like an echo. “Something is causing this slowrot, and I intend to find out what it is—starting with the grotto. As Frederic performed the ritual there, I assume that is where the door formed too.”

I remember Michal’s hard, sidelong look. If the grimoire holds answers, they are lost to us for now, which means we must find our own. “Perhaps I can heal it,” I say. “Perhaps I can send the revenants back to their graves.”

Odessa sighs impatiently. “I hardly think it’ll be that simple—”

“How can we know unless I try?”

“That rip will still be there in the morning,” she says, her voice firm. “I’ll even accompany you to see it. For now, though, just—take a bath. Rest. And no matter what you hear tonight, stay in your room.” She levels me with a dark look. “I mean it, Célie.”

Before I can refuse—because Iabsolutelyrefuse—Lou appears at my shoulder. “Of course, Odessa. We promise to be good little girls and stay hidden away all night long. Will that suffice?” She doesn’t wait for Odessa to answer; with a cheery smile, she shuts the door in her face, murmuring, “Thatwasn’t suspicious at all,” over Odessa’s vicious curse.

I lift a finger to my lips, silencing whatever else Lou might say, and wait for Odessa to pivot on her heel, for the sounds of her footsteps to fade up the corridor. Then—

“Why did you promise that?” I round upon Lou with a heated whisper. “Now we have to sit here and twiddle our thumbs—”

“Says who?”

“Saysyou—”

“I lied.” Lou shrugs, thoroughly unbothered despite leaning on the balustrade for support. “She wasn’t going to leave until we told her what she wanted to hear, and you weren’t going to do it. That isn’t a judgment,” she adds hastily when I scowl. “Just a statement of fact—and now you won’t be breaking your word when we slip off to the grotto. You’ll be breaking mine.”

I eye her warily. “Listen, Lou, maybe you should—”

“If whatever you’re about to say is anything other thancome with me, I don’t want to hear it.” Setting her jaw, she pushes herself from the balustrade—swaying only a little—before raking her hair into a bun. “I’mfine.”

“You don’tlookfine.”

“Well, we can’t all look like vampire goddesses, can we? Some of us just look likeregulargoddesses—”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.” I grip her elbow when she forces a laugh and starts down the stairs. “The veil isclearly affecting you more than the rest of us—which makes sense,” I say as her eyes narrow. “As La Dame des Sorcières, you draw your magic from the land, and clearly, Frederic’s ritual poisoned it. You almost collapsed when I tore through the veil for the séance, and here—well, this doorway seems much worse. I don’t think you should come with me to see it.”

Her nose wrinkles delicately. “And I thinkyoushould bathe before we go. Satine might swoon if she sees your nightgown in proper light.”

We both look to where my mother stands beside the hearth, glaring down at the kittens scampering over her feet. They somehow reached the castle before we did. Likewise, every candle in the room has been lit. For some inexplicable reason, my chest warms at the sight of them.

Allof them.

As before, they spill across every surface: the grand staircase, the marble floors, the vanity table and cluttered mantel, even the cracked silver tea tray upon the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The entire room sparkles in effusive candlelight. Except now I have no need of it. Now I can see in the dark. Michal would’ve known that, but I still appreciate the gesture.

My mother sneezes.

“Why did you bring her with you?” Tearing my gaze from the glow on my mother’s hair, I drag Lou down the stairs and behind the silk dressing screen to the right. As with the kittens and candles, hot water and thick, jasmine-scented foam already fill the tub to the brim; steam curls from its surface in intoxicating tendrils. “How did you get here in the first place? I would’ve scented you on the ship.”

“Are you sure? You sounded a little preoccupied.”

“Were youeavesdropping—?” Oh God. If Lou heard me discussingblood sharingwith Michal and Dimitri, my mother must’ve heard too, which means...

My eyes dart toward the dressing screen in panic.She knows.

Smirking at my horrified look, Lou lowers her voice and drops onto the stool by the tub. “She isn’t an idiot, Célie. She would’ve figured it out eventually.”

“Did she... say anything about it?”About me?I can’t bring myself to voice that particular question, however. Sometimes it’s better not to know.