“Blessed be!”
She stretched her arms wide and threw her head back, chest heaving. “And blessed be thy lips, that shalt utter the Sacred Names of the gods!”
The witches’ cries rose to a tumult. “Blessed be!”
Morgane lowered her arms, still breathing heavily, and the witches gradually quieted.
“Welcome, sisters, and merry Modraniht!” Her indulgent smile returned as she stepped to the head of the middle table. “Draw near to me, please, and eat and drink your fill! For tonight we celebrate!”
The witches cheered once more, and they scrambled for the chairs nearest her.
“Consorts can’t sit at the tables,” Elaina called hastily over her shoulder. She rushed after her sister. “Va-t’en! Go stand by the wall with the others!”
Relief surged through me. We quickly joined the other consorts at the back wall.
Beau directed us toward one of the windows. “Here. I’m getting a headache from all the incense.”
The position offered an unimpeded view of Morgane. With a lazy wave of her hand, she called forth the food. Soon sounds of clinking cutlery joined the laughter echoing through the hall. A consort beside us turned and said in awe, “She is almost too beautiful to look upon, La Dame des Sorcières.”
“So don’t look at her,” I snapped.
The girl blinked, startled, before shuffling away.
I turned my attention back to Morgane. She looked nothing like the drawings in Chasseur Tower. The woman was beautiful, yes, but also cold and cruel—like ice. She had none of Lou’s warmth in her. She had none of Lou in her at all. The two were night and day—winter and summer—and yet . . . there was something similar in their expression. In the set of their jaw. Something determined. Both confident in their ability to bend the world to their will.
But that was how Lou used to look. Now, she floated near Morgane as if sleeping. A witch stood by her side. Tall and ebony-skinned. Sprigs of holly braided through her black hair.
“A poor witch’s Cosette,” a voice murmured beside me. Coco. She watched Lou and the ebony witch with an unfathomable expression.
A small hand touched my arm through the window. I spun swiftly.
“Don’t turn around!”
I stopped moving abruptly, but not before glimpsing strawberry blond hair and Madame Labelle’s alarmingly familiar blue eyes.
“You look the same.” I attempted to move my lips as little as possible. Coco and I inched back until we were pressed against the windowsill. Ansel and Beau fell in on either side of us, completely blocking Madame Labelle from view. “Why aren’t you disguised? Where have you been?”
She huffed irritably. “Even my power has its limits. Between casting the protective enchantment on our camp and transforming all your faces—as well as maintaining those transformations—I’m spent. I could barely manage lightening my hair, which means I can’t come inside. I’m too recognizable.”
“What are you talking about?” Coco hissed. “Lou never had to maintain patterns in the infirmary. She just—I don’t know—did them.”
“Did you want me to alter your face permanently, then?” Madame Labelle skewered her with a glare. “By all means, it would be much easier for me to be done with it and have you all remain lecherous little cretins forever—”
Heat crept up my throat. “Lou practiced magic in the church?”
“So what’s the plan?” Ansel whispered hastily.
I forced myself to refocus on the tables. The meal was quickly coming to an end. Music drifted in from somewhere outside. Already some had risen from their chairs to retrieve their consorts. Elaina and Elinor would soon be upon me.
“The plan is to wait for my signal,” Madame Labelle said tersely. “I’ve made arrangements.”
“What?” I resisted the urge to turn around and throttle her. Now was not the time or place for vague and unhelpful instructions. Now was the time for conciseness. For action. “What arrangements? What signal?”
“There’s no time to explain, but you’ll know when you see it. They’re waiting outside—”
“Who?”
I stopped talking abruptly as Elinor bounded up to us.
“Ha!” she cried, triumphant. Her breath smelled sweet with wine. Her cheeks flushed pink. “I beat her here! That means I get first dance!”
I dug in my feet as she pulled me away, but when I glanced back over my shoulder, Madame Labelle had gone.