“Nothing good,” Father Vestille said, still stroking his chin. “Whatever happened, it was planned.”
“Well-planned,” Pierre added. “They knew Helena would come to help them and they knew she’d come back here. They knew no one would believe her afterward.”
Father DuChard cocked his head at Pierre. “You’re saying you don’t believe her?”
“No,” Pierre answered sharply. “I said no one else would. And the Lycanthru knew that. Because the whole thing sounds – sounds too –.”
“Hard to believe,” Father DuChard finished with a small frown, with an apologetic glance toward me. “Helena, is – is it possible that you – misinterpreted any of these events?”
Now I wanted to hurl myself at Father DuChard. I clenched my fists. “Misinterpreted whether or not the Strineaus had a daughter?”
“Well – no. Not that, of course. Unless – the girl you saw, was she definitely their child? Did they say something that made you believe she was theirs, perhaps in error?”
“I trust what Helena says, Father DuChard,” Father Vestille defended in a gentle tone.
“So do I,” Pierre said with more of an edge.
“This couple, however,” Father Vestille said, pointing at the door. “I don’t know them at all. I know Helena.”
“Yes, of course,” Father DuChard said quickly. “But – well – there doesn’t seem to be much to support Helena’s claims. We saw nothing of a child’s room or toys or clothes in the house. Can anyone else confirm what happened?”
“The Serrones,” I said. “They helped me escape. They know what happened last night.”
“Oh,” Father DuChard said. “Excellent. They saw the, uh
– the wolves, then?”
I thought back. Madame Serrone saw me fleeing on Crimson and brought me into the house while Monsieur Serrone led Crimson away. Then they hid me in their basket while I heard men enter the house. “No,” I said. “Not exactly, but – they’ve seen them before.”
“I can vouch for the Serrones,” Father Vestille said. “They’ve provided me a great deal of information about the Lycanthru.”
“Good, good,” Father DuChard said, sounding more positive. “Then we should go to see them.”
Lieutenant-General Vitton folded his arms. “He’s right. We’ll need more than your testimony alone. You’re saying these people came all the way to La Rue Sauvage, then came all the way back here with you, and Madame Strineau rode into the woods with you. Because they wanted you to help find their daughter, that they now claim they never had?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Supposing everything you say is true, why would they make up a story like that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I think they’re part of the Lycanthru.”
He narrowed his eyes at the Strineau porch, saying nothing.
“Do you believe me?” I asked.
“Not sure what to believe. Come with me a moment, Mademoiselle.” He stepped away from the others. I followed after him. Once we were out of earshot, he bent toward me, talking quietly. “This is the problem. There’s obviously more going on here than what I can see. When people see me coming, they get quiet and try to hide the truth. But you. You found out what was happening with those monsters a few months back and exposed them for what they were. Maybe you can help out again. Find out more than I could on my own.”
“We have to find Claudette,” I said. “They must have taken her somewhere nearby.”
He nodded, sympathetic. “I can talk to the police in DeSarte. Let them know what’s happening, what we’re looking for.”
“All right,” I said. “But be careful. If they aren’t part of the Lycanthru themselves, they might be serving them.”
The LieutenantGeneral sighed, clearly frustrated. “Of course. Because this needs to be more complicated.” He squinted at the Strineaus’ door again. “There has to be someone among the DeSarte police we can trust. I’ll talk to some people, see who can vouch for any officers here. I’ll deal strictly with them, and let them report back to me if anyone catches sight of the girl. Meanwhile …” He tipped up his hat and fixed his eyes on me. “See what you can find out, if you don’t mind. Perhaps keep an eye on the Strineaus, without letting them know you’re watching?”
“Already planned to,” I said.
“That will be a big help.” He glanced over his shoulder at Pierre, who stood watching us patiently, while Father Vestille and Father DuChard discussed their obvious concerns. “Let’s keep this quiet. I can’t be openly involved in this without proof. If you get proof, we can move on the Strineaus and find out what really happened. Until then …” He shrugged.
“Leave them to me,” I said. “I’ll find out what they’re up to, and where the Lycanthru took Claudette.”
He nodded. “Sorry I can’t do much more on my end. Let me know if you find something. Anything suspicious, that you can prove with witnesses or evidence. Then you’ll have all of our police at your disposal. It’s the least we can do, after all you’ve done for La Rue Sauvage.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded again. “I’m heading back. You should start for home as well. I’m sure you can still use some rest.”
“I’ll leave soon enough. Don’t worry. I’ll keep out of sight of the Strineaus.”
“Good. Good luck, Mademoiselle.” He turned and mounted his stallion, turning it away and galloping down the path back to La Rue Sauvage.
Pierre strode over to me. “What did he say?”
I glanced at the Strineaus’ house and lowered my voice as Father Vestille and Father DuChard started toward us. “He wants me to keep an eye on them secretly. Once I can prove they’re up to something, he can act.”
“All right,” Pierre said. “So … you’re staying around here, then?”
“For as long as it takes to find Claudette.”
He knit his brows together. “Well. I’ll miss you.”
I realized suddenly how much I would miss him, too. I never imagined I would feel this strange ache in my soul, longing to be with someone when I can’t. It was one of the most wonderful and miserable things I had ever felt. “I’ll miss you, too. But I have to do this.”
“I know,” he said.
“At least you’ll have us for company on the way back,” Father DuChard said, planting a hand on Pierre’s shoulder. He smiled as Pierre hung his head. “I know, it’s not quite the same, is it? You’ll just have to be patient, my son.”
“I think it best you stay with the Serrones here,” Father Vestille said. “Let’s get you settled in there quietly, before anyone notices you’re in town. They can hide you well enough, once we make it to their house.”
“All right,” I said.
We mounted our horses and turned toward the town. I glanced back at the house to see the front window shutter open. The Strineaus were looking out at me, while everyone else’s back was turned.
Madame Strineau was cocking her head and smiling at me like I was an amusing toy.
MY MADNESS
21.
I woke and stretched. The bed was warm and soft and free of nightmares. I sat up and looked around the Serrones’ spare room, feeling well rested for the first time in days. I had slept late into the afternoon. It would soon be dark again.
Father Vestille and Father DuChard had escorted me to the Serrones’ house that morning. The Serrones were eager to let me stay with them and keep me out of sight. We had all gone inside with Pierre and sat, drinking tea and discussing what might have happened. Obviously, the Strineaus were lying about summoning me to search for their child, then insisting they had never done so, but for what purpose? It seemed like a lot of trouble just to discredit me. Especially when their claims could easily be disproven, once we found Claudette.
Pierre hung his head, not wanting to say good-bye, even for a few days, or to let me put myself at risk with the Lycanthru. I wanted nothing more than to retreat home with him, to hol
d him and kiss him and breathe in everything he was. But I couldn’t abandon Claudette, wherever she was now. The Strineaus might have pretended she was their daughter, but Claudette herself was real. As real as the fear in her eyes when I carried her out of the wolves’ cave.
Father DuChard expressed concerns for my safety and led us in prayers for my protection and well-being. Father Vestille finished the prayers and spoke to the Serrones at length about everything that had happened the previous night, and how the Strineaus had tried to cover it all up when Lieutenant-General Vitton visited them that morning. They listened with rapt attention and a sense of fury, like quiet generals preparing to send soldiers into battle.
Or assassins.
I rose and grabbed my trousers from the chair beside the bed. I slipped them on secured my belt, then tugged my boots on, leaving my gloves and cloak on the table as I clomped to the front room.
I paused at the door.
“It’s clear, Helena,” Madame Serrone called, hearing me inside. “You can come out.”
I opened the door. Madame Serrone was setting plates on the table for an early dinner. “I expect you’ll be hungry. Alexandre will be home soon, if you’ll still be here.”
“I won’t leave until it’s dark,” I assured her.
She nodded and hugged her shoulders. It seemed to be a nervous habit, which I only noticed because she wasn’t wearing her usual shawl and tugging it tighter. “We’re having stew tonight. You’ll need all your strength.” She set bowls onto each plate. “We’ll give thanks when Alexandre arrives, but you can have some bread now if you like.”
My stomach grumbled as I smelled the warm pieces of broken bread on the counter. “I can wait. Thank you.”
“Of course. You should take some bread with you tonight, in case you get hungry. You can take some extra oats for Crimson as well.”
I sat at the table. Were she still alive, my own mother would have argued with Papa all night long against the idea of letting me hunt the Lycanthru at night. She would have been too sick with fright to think of packing me a meal. “That’s very kind of you.”
“We’re happy to do whatever we can. You’re certainly helping us a great deal, fighting them.” She didn’t look at me, but continued to busy herself finding utensils and napkins and cups and salt and pepper and butter. When she seemed to have completed every imaginable task, she stood a moment, looking around the room, head down, seeking something else to do. Then she started straightening some of stacks of paper she had transferred from the dining table to the counter.
“Madame Serrone, may I ask you a question?”
She continued arranging the piles without looking over her shoulder at me. “About the Lycanthru?”
“No.”
She paused, then continued her busywork. “Go ahead.”
“What was your daughter like?”
She kept straightening the papers, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that.”
“It’s all right,” she said, finally relinquishing her task. She stared at the wall. “Marguerite was quiet. And content. She was very happy and thoughtful.” She hugged her shoulders again. “She liked to draw, and sing songs. Like a lot of children, I suppose. She seemed so full of ideas. I’ve often imagined what she might have grown up to become. An artist or a tutor, or perhaps a seamstress like me.” She returned to adjusting the stacks of paper. “But we’ll never know.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My sister was somewhat like that, though she certainly wasn’t quiet. If anything, I was the quiet one in our family.”
Madame Serrone paused. Then she fixed a steely gaze on me. “Marguerite was nothing like you, Helena,” she said, in a pointed tone that made me shudder. “In fact, I have never known anyone like you. But I’m glad we’ve met. You’re the sort of person that protects innocent children like Marguerite. Who protects people like Alexandre and I from becoming childless. The sort of person who can save that girl, Claudette. And we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”
I swallowed. “I’ll do everything I can to find her. And save her.”
“I know you will,” she said, turning toward a scuffling sound outside the front door. “Here’s Alexandre.”
The door opened and Monsieur Serrone came in, wiping his boots roughly on the doormat. He smiled at me. “Hello, Helena. Did you sleep well enough?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said.
He turned toward Madame Serrone. “Hello, dear. How are you?”
“I’m well,” she assured him.
They spoke to one another in the strangest ways. The entire atmosphere of their home seemed so subdued, yet so loving. So secure.
Monsieur Serrone sniffed the aroma from the stove. “Ah, stew tonight.” He glanced at me, then lowered his gaze quickly. “Hearty meal’s a good idea tonight, isn’t it?”
They had clearly been talking about me together. Hoping I could rescue this girl, defeat the Lycanthru here like I did in La Rue Sauvage, bring some sense of peace and order to their province.
They were counting on me.
Monsieur Serrone hung up his coat and strode to the kitchen, taking Madame Serrone by the shoulders and kissing her cheek and lips. “Smells marvelous.”
He sat at the table across from me. “Helena. You won’t imagine who came to the stable today. Hugo DaVorre.”
I bristled. “The man who owns the Vorace tavern.”
“The same. He’s been in before. Most people bring their horses to me sooner or later. But he didn’t come in for service. He just stopped by to chat. Complained about the fire set at the tavern, by some stranger from out of town. Asked if I had seen this girl dressed in a red cloak and trousers.”
I felt as if my heart stopped. For a moment, I expected to hear the Lycanthru pounding on the Serrones’ door. “Does he suspect you?”
Monsieur Serrone shook his head and smiled. “No. He’s just fishing for information, all over town. He talked for a few minutes, then rode off fast, to question the next businessman he met.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Just be aware. They’re looking for you, Helena. What’s your plan for tonight?”
“Return to the Strineaus’ house and see what I can find out about Claudette. Perhaps sneak inside once they’re asleep and see what I can find. Or search for that cave again.”
“The cave sounds more likely, especially now that they can no longer meet in the Vorace. But you might want to spy on Monsieur Strineau at his shop, Forgeron de Strineau. He’s a blacksmith and he usually stays late. He should be there for the next hour or so, after he closes up.”
“What does he do there after hours?”
“As far as I know, he talks to friends of his. Now that we know he’s a Lycanthru, it’s a sure bet he’s talking to other Lycanthru in the evenings.”
“Then that’s where I’ll go.”
“Good. Let’s eat. When you’re ready to leave, I’ll step out front to make sure you’re clear, so no one sees you leaving.”
I nodded. “Of course,” I said. “I don’t want to endanger either of you any further.”
He blinked and exchanged a look with Madame Serrone. “We’re already in danger, Helena. We don’t want them spotting you. Or knowing this is where you’ll be returning at the end of the night. We want to keep you safe. Ready, dear?”
Madame Serrone brought the pot of stew and set it down on the center of the table, then sat beside me.
Monsieur Serrone looked at us both. “Let us pray,” he said.
I lowered my head, but glanced up at Monsieur Serrone to see that his head was still raised, his eyes still open.
“Dear Lord,” he said, looking up slightly. “Thank you for this day. Thank you for this food, and for our lives. Thank you for bringing Helena here to us, and for keeping her safe. We ask that you protect her tonight, and protect us as well. Help Helena to find this girl and bring her home safe. And help us to defeat these evil
men, once and for all. Amen.”
I never saw anyone pray with their eyes open. The lack of ritual made things more real somehow, and more frightening. We were at war, but the Lord was fighting with us.
“Let’s eat,” Monsieur Serrone said, serving up a bowl for me.
After we ate, Monsieur Serrone stood outside, as he promised, watching the street until it was clear. Then he called me from the stable, where I sat waiting to ride out on Crimson. We trotted out quickly and quietly. I kept to back alleys, following the route Monsieur Serrone had given me, to find Monsieur Strineau’s shop. It took time, since I had to keep out of sight, and kept having to hide in the shadows and wait for people to pass by before stealing across a street to the next alleyway. After twenty minutes, I finally found the Forgeron de Strineau, which sat only twelve blocks from the Serrones’ house. I led Crimson to a nearby stable that Monsieur Serrone had indicated, letting him stand among the other horses there.
Meanwhile, I snuck back to the alley outside Monsieur Strineau’s shop and stood on a barrel to peer through an upper window. It was open slightly, the oily smells of the day’s work rising from the smelting vats within.
“– entire plan seems dangerous to me,” one man said. I recognized him as the tall man who stood by the front door at the Vorace.
“Dangerous, perhaps,” Monsieur Strineau said in a bright tone. “The greatest rewards often come from the greatest risks. But everything is going according to plans, so far. I have every assurance we’ll be free of this ‘Red Rider’ soon.”
“But how many of us will have to die for it?” asked another squat man, arms folded. “I hear she killed every member of the La Rue Sauvage order herself, with nothing but that crossbow. They say she burned thirty or forty of them all at once. I even heard she killed one of our members with her bare hands.”
“Don’t believe every bedtime story you hear, Ferriot,” Monsieur Strineau sneered. “She’s a little girl, nothing more.” “Then why this elaborate scheme, if she’s only a girl?” Ferriot countered. “You act as if she’s no threat, yet all our efforts are spent on her alone.”
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