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Bramble stared for a moment and then darted to Petal’s side. “I’m sorry, love,” she murmured before kneeling next to Petal in the roses and forcing her jaw open lightly. A pause. An inhalation.

And then the moonstone in Bramble’s palm.

Elation shot through Briar, quickly followed by panic. There were no guarantees that this would work. But Petal could not stay like this, and anyone who might know how to help her would probably turn her into the Order. And after tonight, Briar knew they were out of time.

She extended a hand toward Ethan without looking at him, waiting. Pieces of the amulet dropped into her palm. She took the moonstone from Bramble. It fit perfectly in the silver-and-pearl-studded cage. A whisper of magic rustled the rose petals. A kelpie’s eye filled the portal window, flashing a threat.

“Are you sure about this?” Ethan asked.

“No.”

And then Briar fit the pieces together over the moonstone.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Petal did not wake. There was only the lap of the waves against the hull, Briar’s pulse in her ears. The moon egg was just a piece of jewelry, pretty but ultimately insignificant, with no real power. It could have been one of the rosebuds for all that the curse changed.

Until there was a tickle, a curl of glittering power.

And suddenly, a crashing boom that Briar felt more than heard. It slapped through the ether, shaking the lamps, shattering the witch glass on deck, shooting like silver daggers through the ocean. A kelpie screamed.

Briar might have screamed too, but there was no air left in her lungs.

The flash of white light blinded her, seared into her brain. Her skin prickled. The white roses around her feet seared to ash, smelling of salt and fennel and magic.

And then Petal opened her eyes, groggy.

“Why am I covered in flowers?” She sneezed once, daintily. “Did I die again?”

Briar did not know if she was laughing or crying.

Bramble had hauled Petal into her arms, kissing her fiercely. Petal kissed her back, her hare familiar bounding through the room like a shooting star, finally free. It was dizzying. Petal finally stood and reached for her sister. The hug was fierce and Briar was not sure who was holding who up.

Ethan did not say a word, merely leaned against the wall, coldly watchful.

The magic that had pushed through the sea returned, jostling them hard. Petal stumbled. “Are we on a ship?”

Briar nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you stole the bloody moon, you idiot.”

Petal winced. “Right. That.”

“Yes, that.”

“I stole the moon for my beloved.” Petal glanced at Bramble. “Is it done?”

Bramble inclined her head.

Petal grinned. “Absolutely worth it, then.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Ethan said icily. “Your sister was the one paying the price, not you.”

Petal stared at him. “Who is that?” she whispered.

“The Dragon,” Briar replied. “He kept you safe. He and his whole crew.”

“Thank you.” Petal smiled, the smile that had won her countless marriage proposals and an offer from a king. Her teeth were small and perfect, gleaming white. She did not have a slightly crooked incisor, like Briar did. Another little thorn. Her smile was a work of art.