[Wizard of 4th Street 04] - The Wizard of Rue Morgue

by Simon Hawke - (ebook by Undead)

  "What about Max's eyes?" asked Kira with concern. "Will he be able to see again?"

  "Eventually," Renaud said. "But it will take some time. Fortunately, the damage wasn't permanent. The doctors say that his vision will return over a period of months, slowly and in stages: First, he will be able to perceive some light, then shadowy images, and in time, with treatment, his vision should be restored to normal. But it will be a long time before he will be able to paint again."

  "I'm sorry," Kira said with a rueful grimace. "I wish it didn't have to happen."

  "Ironically, he doesn't really seem to mind that much," Renaud said. "I've spoken with Jacqueline. She's remaining with him, to take care of him until his vision is restored. She said that once he found out that the damage wasn't permanent, he was, obviously, enormously relieved, but he believes that he can benefit from the experience. He says that it will give him time to think, to look inward. He says that he can see colors in his mind and he will paint in mental images, without the aid of brash or canvas. And, in the meantime, he said that this experience—which will officially be described as an accident—will increase the value of his work, not that he needs to worry about money. And it will also give him more time to spend with Jacqueline, which seems to be the most important thing to him right now."

  "I'm sure it's important to Jacqueline, as well," said Modred. "Perhaps more important than she knows right now, but she will find that out soon enough. She's done more than her share. Her life could use a change."

  "I agree," said Renaud. "Let us just hope it is a change for the better, away from her previous activities. I would be extremely happy never to have to hear her name again in my official capacity."

  "So how is the official disposition of the case going to read?" asked Wyrdrune.

  "Due to Raven's condition, Sergeant Legault and I will be assisting in the preparation of the I.T.C. report," Renaud replied. "As a matter of fact, I should be getting back to headquarters to meet with the agents who've been assigned to the disposition of the case. There is no way, regrettably, to avoid the mention of necromancy. Too many people have died in too unmistakable a manner and the media will be hounding us for details. But officially, the report will read that the killings were perpetrated by a satanic murder cult which hid under the streets of Paris and met somewhere in the Catacombs. The renegade adept who organized and led them has not been found and it is presumed that he perished in the cave-in. Perhaps we will eventually discover a body that is suitably unidentifiable and, by process of elimination, we will establish that it must have been the missing adept. Of the Dark Ones there will, of course, be no official mention. Only Legault and I have knowledge of that information and we will keep it to ourselves. And there will be no mention of yourselves, either. The battle beneath the streets of Paris took place between the cult and agents Raven and Piccard. Raven was seriously injured and Piccard lost his life in the line of duty. You were never involved."

  "We appreciate that," said Wyrdrune.

  "And I will appreciate being kept informed of how I can get in touch with you again. Strictly unofficially, of course. I doubt that I shall ever sleep easily after all this. Please don't misunderstand, but nothing would please me more than to never have to contact you again."

  "I quite understand," said Modred. "But even if we do not have to return to Paris, there may come a time when we may have to contact you, either for information or to have someone vouch for us."

  "You may count on my full cooperation, to the best extent of my ability," Renaud said. "What worries me the most is that missing necromancer. What if she didn't perish in the cave-in?"

  "Then, undoubtedly, our paths will cross again," said Modred. "If not in France, then somewhere else. If she survived, I strongly doubt she will remain in Paris. She will flee somewhere else, to gather new acolytes around her, perhaps to seek out others of her kind. And, sooner or later, we will meet Leila again."

  "I do not envy you your task," Renaud said. "Well, I'd best be getting back." He stood and offered his hand to each of them. As he took Modred's hand, he smiled wryly. "Who would have thought that I would ever be shaking hands with Morpheus himself, and wishing him a bon voyage?"

  Modred smiled. "Morpheus is dead," he said. "And Modred gratefully accepts your hand in friendship."

  The phone rang and Makepeace picked it up. "The limo has arrived," he said.

  Kira sighed. "I always wondered if I'd ever get to Paris," she said. "Somehow, this was not what I expected. I didn't even get to see the Eiffel Tower."

  "Believe me, you didn't miss much," said the broom, coming into the room carrying a pile of boxes in its arms. "A bunch of girders and an elevator. Big deal. But at least the view wasn't half bad."

  "Good God, Broom, what is all that stuff?" asked Wyrdrune.

  "I just bought a few things," said the broom.

  "What things?" Kira glanced at the labels on the boxes. "Broom, these are all designer originals!"

  "Designer originals!" said Wyrdrune. "That stuff must have cost a fortune! Who are they for?"

  "They're for me," the broom said. "For you?" said Wyrdrune with disbelief. "But Broom, you don't wear clothes!"

  "No? So I'll hang them in the closet and look at them every now and then," the broom said defensively. "What was I supposed to do, come back from Paris without a thing to wear?"

  Kira giggled.

  Wyrdrune put his hand up to his eyes and groaned. "I don't believe it," he said. "We come to Paris and the broom sees all the sights and goes on a shopping spree while we wind up in the sewer."

  "So what can I tell you?" the broom said, with a shrug. "C' est la vie boychik. C' est la vie."

  Scanning, formatting and basic

  proofing by Undead.