Page 150 of The Mask Falling

While her face gave nothing away, her collarbones lifted, and her fingers blanched on the mug.

Her fingers. The tools she used to work her numen. Someone had dressed them, but even after a week, she must be in excruciating pain. Only one Rephaite could have done something like that.

Nadine caught me looking. “Thuban,” she said. “Le Basilic, we called him. He tried to take Zeke, so . . .”

“So,” I said.

With a nod, she took a jar of pills from her pocket and necked one with the last of her tea.

“That was some rescue, by the way. Sneaking in through ancient quarries and burning down the Château de Versailles. Hardcore.” She glanced at me. “I don’t know why you came for us, Mahoney, but I’m not too proud to thank you. I would have died in there otherwise.”

“I came because we’re still the Seven Seals.”

“And look at where it got us. A power-crazed ghoul of a boss and a scrapbook of traumatic memories.”

“What did you think you were signing up for, Arnett?”

“Yeah. I guess we both should have known what we were getting into.” Her smile was weary. “We were kids, I suppose. Or maybe just suckers. Kids know a bogeyman when they see one.”

The talk of Jaxon knotted my insides. He might be a smoking corpse by now.

“Mind bringing me up to speed on what happened in the tunnels?” I asked. “It’s all a little hazy.”

Nadine obliged.

Realizing the passage would soon be underwater, Léandre had run at full speed to warn the others. Against all counsel—and no doubt sensing my terror—Arcturus had tried to go back for me, but the sheer volume of lake water had caused the tunnel to collapse. Up to their waists, rocks crashing down around them, the group had been forced to abandon me to my fate.

“I was in an air pocket.” Under the pall of fatigue, a memory squirmed. “Did . . . someone find me?”

“Yeah,” Nadine said. “Once we were out of the ossuary, Le Vieux Orphelin ordered a search of the carrières in case you’d escaped another way. One of the people from the colony found you passed out—the Scottish guy with silver hair. The water was almost on top of you. He carried you out of there just in time.”

I pressed my temple. There was a reason that silver-haired man was important, but it eluded me.

“Where is he now?” I asked. “The man who found me.”

“Renelde dropped him off at Gare du Nord.” She took a rolled-up blanket and wrapped it around herself. “Jax sent us to Paris not long after the scrimmage, if you were wondering. Tricked us into a Scion vehicle. He said we were going to a safe place. That should have been our warning.”

“Can I join you?” a voice interrupted.

Someone else had popped their head into the chamber. “Ah, mon frère.” Nadine patted the rug. “Please.”

A clean-shaven Zeke stepped inside. “Stop showing off with the French.”

“Right, like you never show off with the Spanish.”

“It’s not very useful in Scion. Although maybe it will be soon.” He sighed. “Hey, Paige. I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Glad to see you alive,” I said.

“Thank you.” He set a wooden board down. “Here. It’s not much, but it’s all we have until Warden comes back.”

It was enough. Dry-cured sausage and ham, a dish of thick cookies, and slices of orange cheese with a crust, along with a steaming kettle.

“You’re a lifesaver.” I scraped the grit from my eyes. “Are you doing all right, Zeke?”

“Yes, I’m okay. Just some bumps and bruises.” He sat down beside his sister and poured clove tea for all three of us. “I am not hurt. But I am very angry that Léandre left the other prisoners behind.”

“That makes two of us.”

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