“Athens.”
“I’d love to talk to them one day. It can be a lonely feeling, not knowing where you fit.”
Arcturus kept watch while we armed ourselves. Though he had owned a knife in the colony, I had only ever seen him fight with spools.
When we were ready, Ankou and Léandre shoved the tombstone back into place, and Ankou laid his axe on top of it. He struck the end of the handle, and the axe began to spin, luring the nearest spirits. The æther trembled. When the axe came to a sudden halt, glazed with ice, Ankou looked satisfied and signed to me.
“As we suspected,” Léandre translated. “Southwest. The nearest anormaux are in the same direction as the Château de Versailles.”
“Good,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We climbed over a wall and stepped into the city, footsteps muffled by deep snow, flakes catching in our lashes. This place had been frozen in time, like Oxford. Even though I sensed no one nearby, and there was no evidence of cameras, we kept off the main paths.
Renelde and Léandre led the way. We crossed streets, passed a burned-out church, and continued up a deserted boulevard, wind scalding our faces. That and the stimulant made my teeth clatter.
In the first colony, the city had been alive, to a degree. Gas lamps had glimmered on the streets. Duckett had run a pawnshop. The more fortunate humans had been allowed to leave their residences and wander. There had always been a risk of running into a Rephaite, but I had been able to sneak out most nights to visit Liss and Julian in the Rookery.
There was no shantytown here. No wanderers. If the first colony had been hell, this one was purgatory—a liminal, unfinished space, where the sinners of Scion would wait for judgment. The city was empty.
All of it, that is, but the Château de Versailles.
At last, the palace came into view, bathed in the ashen light of the moon. Every dreamscape I sensed was near or inside it. Most remnants of the monarch days were tragic ruins, but this building had been restored to its former magnificence, ready to house the Rephaim. I climbed with Malperdy and Arcturus to the roof of the former royal stables so we could take stock of the exterior defenses.
The approach to the palace was vast and cobblestoned. Malperdy handed me a small pair of binoculars, and I took in the lofty gates, covered in gold leaf and polished to a glow.
No fewer than thirty soldiers guarded them.
“Shit.” Cold to my core, I lowered the binoculars. “Krigs.”
They were stock-still, standing at precise intervals in front of the gates, their stances identical and disciplined. Ognena Maria had told me once that Vance made her soldiers stand for hours during the winter—to prove they could endure, that they felt nothing. She thought they were somehow changed during their training, to make them numb inside and out.
I had expected many things, but not the army. I had been a fool to assume they were all involved in the invasion.
“Stealth was always our intended approach.” Arcturus narrowed his eyes. “We can infiltrate the palace without alerting them.”
“This is a fucking joke.” Malperdy looked as if he could spit in disgust. “Versailles was our place.”
I tried to ignore the line of soldiers and concentrate on the palace. It was a city unto itself, more than large enough to house prisoners, guards, and keepers alike. Other than the soldiers, there were no obvious defenses. Just as I had hoped, the tunnel had taken us under them all.
“There are at least sixty humans inside. And—” I counted. “Only four Rephaim.”
“That is not enough,” Arcturus said.
My mind raced. “Could Rephaim tolerate any Emite blood without turning?”
“A drop or two.”
“It must be concealing more of them.” With great effort, I strained my sixth sense, to no avail. “If Jaxon has distributed it—if he’s using it himself—then he suspects I’m coming.”
Arcturus said nothing to comfort me on that front.
The three of us returned to street level. “Soldiers,” I said to the others. “We should be able to avoid them if we’re careful.”
“Careful.” Léandre stared at me, nostrils flaring. “We are dead if they get one glimpse of us.”
“So we don’t let them,” I said. “If you want to turn back, you can guard the cemetery. I’m going in.”
He looked away. Renelde laid a hand on his arm.
“Léandre,” she said. He glanced down at her and gave a stiff nod.
We made our way north through the never-ending snow, still avoiding the wider streets. The side entrance to the palace would take us into the gardens near a fountain that had once been called the Bassin de Neptune. From there, we could assess the rear defenses.
Three dreamscapes were just ahead of us. A trio of Vigiles were stationed behind iron railings, next to a guardhouse with a mansard roof. None of them had their weapons at the ready.
We took shelter in a doorway, out of sight. “There is no way around those three.” Léandre motioned to Ankou, who drew his axe. “Mal, you tempt them out.”
“I’ve got it,” I said.
Malperdy frowned. “What?”
In answer, I leapt from my body and flashed between their dreamscapes. By the time I returned, all three Vigiles had collapsed, and the taste of blood smeared the back of my throat.
We approached the boundary together. Malperdy climbed the wall beside the railings, sprang across to the guardhouse roof, and dropped back to the ground in a crouch. The rest of us followed him. And just like that, we were over the boundary, into the heart of Sheol II.
The Bassin de Neptune was full of frozen water. Sculptures that must once have served as fountains were now bone dry and dressed in moss. One of them held a dull gold trident.
The palace loomed on high, silhouetted by the moonlight. Most of its windows were dark. A snow-laden forest stood between us and its walls. I thought of one of the stories Arcturus had told me, about a princess cursed to sleep forever in a castle ringed by thorns.
Snow glistened in my hair. Renelde was in the lead, with me just behind to warn her of incoming Vigiles. There were about thirty dreamscapes in the gardens, each a trap that one wrong turn could spring.
We passed more stagnant water, where statues wallowed, before we reached the opening that led into the nearest grove, and the rusted gate that blocked our way. Renelde broke through a snowbank, revealing a hollow beneath, and slid under, leaving clouds of breath in her wake. When I followed, the corner of the gate cut deep into my left calf. I bit down a hiss.
“Careful.” Malperdy reached through the bars to touch my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Think so.”
Hot pain swelled from the cut as I crawled after Renelde. In the distance, a storm was gathering. If our luck held out, the sound of it would mask our approach.
Thick foliage tangled over our heads, heavy with powder. The plants had long since broken their bounds and overrun the footpath. Twigs rolled against my knees, buried under the snow, and twigs snared on my hair.
When a bank of cloud snuffed the moon, we all fell still, our breathing heavy. I couldn’t see a thing until Renelde switched on her headlamp and angled it so it was visible to all of us. We followed it, up to our elbows in snow. It seeped into the cuffs of my gloves and chilled the back of my neck. I reached the end of the path with a raw nose and numb lips, covered in dead leaves.
I stopped.
A figure stood guard in the grove, at the top of the steps that would take us closer to the palace. A flicker of lightning revealed a dark-haired Rephaite. Beside me, Renelde lay flat on her stomach, her lamp extinguished. When she reached for her gun, I caught her wrist.
Somewhere behind me, a twig cracked. The Rephaite turned in a swing of cloak. Fear paralyzed me. Renelde started to crawl backward, breathing hard.
A shadow brushed past. Arcturus. I made a vain grab for his coat, swallowing a sound of protest, but he was already in the open, hailing the other Rephaite in Gloss.
What happened next was unclear. It was too dark to see anything but the glint of eyes before both Rephaim blurred out of sight. I sprang to my feet and ran after them, revolver in hand. Moonlight spilled from above again, stripping the ground white.
I found Arcturus kneeling in the snow beside the fallen Rephaite. “He will wake before long,” was all he said.
“What were you thinking, taking him on without a weapon?” I said in a heated whisper.
“It was his weapon I wanted.”
He rose with an exquisite sword in hand. Its blade was the length of my arm, and it looked for all the world like a seamless blend of glass and pearl, iridescent where the moonlight touched it.
“It has been a very long time since I last held an opaline blade.” He gave it a satisfied spin, making the air rush and the æther vibrate. “This will serve.”
Seeing him with a blade gave me a strange feeling. Renelde, who had now caught up with us, did a double take. “What the fuck is that?” she whispered to me. “Looks like a frozen rainbow.”
When the other three reached us, we padded up the steps and down another thorny path. Now the Château de Versailles was to our left, and we were level with it. Cast-iron gas lamps illuminated its façade.
“We have to find another way,” I said. The moon disappeared again. “The moment we leave the groves, we’re exposed.”
“There is no other way.” Renelde leaned a fraction of an inch out of our cover. “Where are the Vigiles?”
“Over there.” I nodded to the right. “They’re moving, but not in this direction.”
Malperdy got his binoculars out again. “I can see the window.” He lowered them. “Still broken.”
He handed me the binoculars. Even with the gas lamps, it was difficult to find, but I finally made it out. Above two pairs of white pillars, a third-floor window was missing most of its glass, as if someone had launched a piece of furniture through it.
With a deep breath, Malperdy duckwalked forward, the coiled rope slung over his shoulder. Ankou stopped him, grasping his wrist with a murmur.
“I’ll check the coast is clear up there,” Malperdy muttered, hands just visible in the light from the mansion. Ankou pressed his lips together. “As soon as I lower the rope, join me.”
“Be careful, Mal.” Renelde readied her pistol. “We are right behind you.”
“Super.” Malperdy blew out a breath. “Wish me luck.”
He darted out from the grove, across a stretch of snow, and fell into a crouch behind a hedgerow. I waited, not daring to breathe. If anyone was watching the grounds from the windows, they would have had a clear shot at him, yet the night remained silent.
Malperdy must have had the same thought, because he made his next dash, straight for the palace walls. He was quick as a fox. Quick as the sudden unveiling of the moon.
Not quick enough.
The gunshot cracked the night like a stone through ice. We all dropped to the ground, so fast my chin almost hit the snow. Cold soaked into my undershirt as a soul-rending scream curdled the air.
“Fuck,” Léandre breathed.
To his left, I could hear Ankou, his breathing ragged. Beside me, Renelde clenched a fist to her lips. “Paige,” she whispered thickly, “can you tell if the sniper is still there?”
“There are too many people.” I spoke under my breath, my heart thunderous. As Malperdy let out an agonized sob, a shudder in the æther made me climb to my feet. “Vigiles. Move.”
The five of us retreated, stepping in our own footprints. I sensed the Vigiles descending on Malperdy.
“Now we are trapped,” Léandre said, once we were back in the middle of the grove. “Like rats.”
My gaze was on the unmoving Rephaite. In unison, Arcturus and I looked at each other.
“Warden can get us past the snipers.” I hauled the sodden cloak off the Rephaite and thrust it at Arcturus. “Quickly.”
He swung it over his shoulders and knelt to strip the Rephaite of his leather gloves and sword belt. The others watched as he put them on and pulled the other Rephaite into the overgrowth, out of sight.
“Des empreintes,” a voice bellowed. A beam of light gleamed through the close-knit branches. “Les cambrioleurs ont de l’aide. Trouvez les—”
Our group splintered. I swerved right with Arcturus and Renelde, down the path we had taken from the Bassin de Neptune, while Ankou and Léandre charged to the left. Thorns and branches ripped at my hair. At the end, we vaulted over a gate and ran south, down a new path.
Dreamscapes were closing in. The little stimulant had almost worn off: my limbs were leaden, my chest tight. I swung off my backpack, grabbed an auto-injector from inside, and slowed for long enough to stab it into my thigh. With a jolt of pain, the adrenaline was in, and I was running after Renelde and Arcturus. Already I could feel my body waking up.
I shoved past another rusted gate, and suddenly we were out in the open, exposed, and the dreamscapes were too close. “Wait,” I whisper-shouted to Arcturus and Renelde, who both stopped. “They’re coming.”
“Get behind me,” Arcturus said.
His tone brooked no argument. I grasped Renelde by the arm and dragged her behind Arcturus with me. “Don’t say a word,” I breathed into her ear. She tensed.
Eight Vigiles burst from the foliage and trained their rifles on us, shouting at us to drop our weapons and get on the ground. Seeing a Rephaite, they stopped. Renelde gripped my elbow.
“Vigiles,” Arcturus said.
His voice was utterly cold, as it had been on the night we met. Having lived with him for weeks, I realized just how much he had been performing in those days, how much effort it must take him to wear this mask. It unnerved me to see him dressed like the enemy again.
“My lord.” One of them stepped forward. Her armor identified her as the squadron commandant. “Forgive me, but—”
“What is it, Vigile?”
The commandant held her nerve. “I don’t recognize you.” Her London accent took me by surprise. Weaver must have stipulated English guards here, which spoke volumes about his feelings on Ménard. “Have you made yourself known to the Grand Overseer?”
“You do not recognize me, despite the fact that I have been stationed here for a sennight,” Arcturus said, in the same glacial tone. “Perhaps all Rephaim look the same to your feeble eyes.”
Another Vigile was clearly on the verge of shitting himself. “My lord, we would never be so—”
“Not that it is any of your concern, Vigile, but I am Elnath Mesarthim. And this is Paige Mahoney, enemy of the blood-sovereign, who I found roaming this grove as if she were a tourist. Your so-called vigilance is wanting.” Arcturus took hold of my collar. I struggled against his grasp. “One of her accomplices has already been apprehended, but there will be more. Comb the grounds immediately. I will escort these two to the Grand Overseer.”
“But Paige Mahoney is dead,” another Vigile said. His accent was French. “We were told.”
“Then I can only conclude that this is her identical twin, Vigile. Either way, she will be processed.”
“My lord,” the commandant said. “Of course.” She paused, then spoke into her transceiver: “Rooftop west, this is 502. Hold your fire. I repeat, hold your fire. Sentinel approaching your position with two unknowns. Establish relative safe zone from the Parterre du Nord.”
“Received,” came the response.
There had been nothing this slick in the first colony. Nashira was taking no chances.
“You’re clear to approach, Lord Elnath,” the commandant said. I wished I could see her face through the visor. “Please proceed.”
“Efficient of you, 502,” Arcturus said, not looking at her. “A pity you were not efficient enough to stop these intruders entering in the first place.”
“Yes, my lord. Apologies.”
She led her squadron back into the labyrinth of groves, leaving us in the snow. As soon as they were out of sight, Renelde released h
er breath.
“We have to find the others.” She wet her lips. “And get Malperdy.”
I searched for them in the æther. “Ankou and Léandre are heading deeper into the gardens. Malperdy is inside.” My temples ached. “We have to take this chance to get in there.”
Renelde looked toward the palace. A moment later, she took a deep breath and gave me a small nod. I followed her out of the grove.
Vases spilled winter-blooming flowers. I kept my head down as we walked on either side of Arcturus, in full view of the windows. My knees shook. That Vigile had told the snipers to hold their fire, but if they suspected a ruse, they might decide to ignore the order.
No gunfire came. Just the crunch of boots, the sluice of breath. When we reached a wide set of steps, I risked a glance to my left. Darkness stained the snow where Malperdy had fallen.
Arcturus reached a tall pair of doors, which two Vigiles opened for us. I stepped into the gloom beyond and found myself in a gallery of pale marble, where two braziers flamed. A bloodred carpet covered the floor. This was the Lower Gallery, which ran below the Hall of Mirrors.
“Lord Elnath. Allow us to escort you to the Grand Overseer,” one of the Vigiles said.
“Unless you believe two unarmed humans to be a threat to me, Vigile, I will not require a chaperon,” Arcturus said. “Get outside and search the groves. Bring any infiltrators to the north wing, alive and unharmed, or the blood-sovereign will hear of your incompetence.”
The Vigile offered a smart bow. “My lord.”
They both made themselves scarce, leaving the three of us alone.
The Lower Gallery was attached to the central vestibule of the palace, which had smooth red pillars, veined with white, like meat. I leaned on one of them.
“Okay. We’re in.” I tried to slow my breathing. “There are two clusters of dreamscapes. One in this wing, one in the other. They might be prisoners, or they might be Vigiles in a guardroom.”
Renelde held a hand to her chest. “What about Malperdy?”
Finding him was harder. “North wing. This floor.”
The Mask Falling Page 32