Page 163 of The Mask Falling

Two familiar dreamscapes were heading straight for the apartment. Ducos and Stéphane. With a low curse, I disentangled myself from Arcturus and dived out of bed. Ducos would likely not care if she thought I was sleeping with my associate, but I was taking no chances.

“By all means, you carry on sleeping, you big clot,” I hissed. “I’ll handle the pissed-off spies by myself.”

Without stopping to wait for a reply, I threw on my underwear and half ran to the wardrobe, where I grabbed the first shirt and trousers I saw. The blouse was barely done up—buttons in all the wrong holes, naturally—by the time Ducos came sweeping into the parlor.

“Ducos.” I cleared my throat, conscious of my unruly hair. “Didn’t think you’d be here until Sunday.”

“Steph has been keeping an eye on the building. They saw a light on when they drove past last night.” Ducos placed both hands on my shoulders, the gesture almost maternal. “Are you injured?”

There was a sharpness in her gaze that set my nerves on edge. She seemed worried and suspicious in equal measure. It was not an expression I had seen her wear before.

“I had an infected wound. Took me a few days to recover and get back here. Otherwise I’m fine,” I said. “We got to the city through the carrières, in the end. There was a flood. Dirty water.”

“I had no idea the carrières extended as far as Versailles.” Ducos moved past me. “How did you find your way?”

“I had some help from locals. They didn’t know about the assignment.”

“Locals.”

“Yes. They’re clairvoyants.”

Ducos sank onto the couch with a long exhalation. Her cheeks held a touch of high color from the cold. Stéphane walked in, wearing a pair of tinted spectacles and a leather jacket.

“Flora,” they said. “Good to see you alive.”

I nodded. “Stéphane.”

“Well?” Ducos asked me, gaze intent. “Is the Grand Overseer dead?”

Our eyes met. I swallowed, and for the first time, I wondered if I should be afraid of her.

“I had no time.” I took the micro-camera from the mantelpiece. “But it’s likely he died in the fire. In the palace.”

When Ducos slowly held out a hand, I placed the camera into it. Stéphane removed their spectacles, eyebrows raised.

“I had heard there was a significant fire to the west of Paris,” Ducos said. “But not that it was the Château de Versailles. A building that has stood for some four centuries, that has seen the rise and fall of sovereigns and republics.” Pause. “How did that happen, Flora?”

There was a dangerous silence.

“I set it,” I said.

To my right, Stéphane let out a long breath. “You are insane,” they breathed. “This will enrage England.”

“That’s why I did it.”

For several moments, Ducos was speechless.

“Explain yourself.” There was a hairline crack in her veneer. “Tell me why you did not carry out the assignment I gave you. Why you chose, instead, to commit first-degree arson.”

“The city was heavily guarded. Even with my gift, it was impossible for me to reach the Grand Overseer.” The lie came smooth as buttermilk. “I reasoned that destroying the colony was the next best thing. That Domino could pin the blame on Ménard, creating even more friction between France and England. That place was the source of all their tension, and now—”

“—it is in ashes. Like our plans,” Ducos barked. “I did not tell you to improvise, Flora. You are expected to heed your orders, not question them, nor tailor them to suit your own scruples.”

“You didn’t mind me tailoring the plan when I was taken into the Hôtel Garuche. You must have known I would adapt to my circumstances again,” I said. “Retreating would have scuttled a priceless opportunity. Did you really want me to back out after a two-day crawl through hell?”

“Yes.” Without raising her voice, Ducos managed to express the depth of her anger and disappointment. “You should have retreated, returned here, and informed me that you could not reasonably complete your assignment. That would have been the proper course of action for a sane individual. Instead, you decided to demolish our plans, plans that have taken months of blood and sweat and risk to lay.” She rose. “I stressed the delicate nature of your role in Domino. I explained the unpredictability and danger of the situation in Europe.”

“You did,” I said. “Ducos—”

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