Page 104 of The Mask Falling

A Sedition of Clairvoyants

Our plans were on hold. Arcturus made it quietly clear that he had no intention of leaving me alone with pneumonia and a fever, and even I wasn’t fool enough to think I could find the perdues myself in this state. Until Cordier came back to treat me, there was nothing to be done.

I lay in my bedroom and listened to the rattle of my breath. Each time, I imagined rotten water bubbling in my lung.

Even though I had slept after the escape, I was so tired and sore that I drifted off again. When I woke, it was sunset. I turned back onto my bad side and tried to remember how to justrest. My fever made it hard. I was too hot for the duvet, too cold not to have some of it over me.

After a while, a knock came at the door. Arcturus came in and placed a large glass of water on the nightstand.

“Cordier said you were dehydrated.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“And I found this in the bookcase.” He handed me a rolled-up page. “It may interest you.”

On any other evening, I would have asked him to stay and distract me, but speaking was still difficult, and there was a tension between us that had yet to be snapped. I nodded my acknowledgment instead, and he left. I unrolled the paper to find a regional map of the Scion Republic of France.

Kornephoros had said that Versailles was to the west. I traced a line from our location to a large area of woodland, where I found two words.

ZONE INTERDITE

A forbidden sector.

I had learned about Versailles in my Scion history lessons at school. Our classes had focused on the debauchery of its aristocrats, who had gossiped, gambled, banqueted, and otherwise frittered their time away while the poor starved on the streets. All of them, our teacher told us, had deserved to have their heads cut off and paraded about Paris. Good riddance.

With its proven suspicion of religion and monarchy, France had been the perfect candidate to join the fold of the Republic of Scion. The official story was that Versailles had been demolished within two years of the conversion.

Nadine and Zeke were in there. The last time I had seen them, they had chosen to leave with Jaxon after the scrimmage and support his claim to be the rightful Underlord. Now they had clearly joined me and Arcturus on the list of people Jaxon Hall had stabbed in the back.

And Michael. He had been imprisoned in the first colony for years, and now he had been thrown into another.

He had lasted over a month on his own before Scion had re-arrested him. If only we hadn’t been separated in London, I might have been able to keep him safe.

I was certain Sheol II would be twice as secure as its predecessor. Trap-pits and landmines. Ethereal fences. Armed guards. Almost certainly some Emim, too, if there were enough auras to tempt them. I could only hope the perdues would know of a way to avoid its defenses.

If Arcturus was right. If they did have a route into Versailles.

He was proving instrumental in this search. I had underestimated his ability to navigate the underworld. I wanted to break the silence between us, to return to the warm familiarity we had shared here, but both of us were smarting.

Cordier was late. By the time she returned, it was dark, and I was settled in the armchair with a mug of tea. She carried a briefcase in one hand and her own bag on her shoulder.

“Sorry, Flora. That took longer than I expected.” She set down her bags. “How do you feel?”

“No better or worse.” I set my jaw against the pain. “Just made a pot of tea, if you want some.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I can’t stay long.” Cordier took off her shoes, which were dusted with snow, and draped her coat over the back of the couch. “I need to get all this back to Figurine.”

“Figurine?”

“Another sub-network. Where’s your handsome friend?” she added as she unclipped the briefcase.

I nodded to the doorway. Cordier looked over her shoulder to see that Arcturus had appeared from his room. “So he is.” She brushed her silken hair behind one ear. “Hello again.”

“Doctor Cordier,” Arcturus said.

“Oh, please, call me Eléonore. We should all be friends in Mannequin.” Her crimson lipstick was so flawless, I was sure she must have used a stencil. “I never did catch your name.”

“Warden.”

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