Page 103 of The Scarlet Veil

Eponine tilts her head, irritatingly calm despite the circumstances. “You may only partake of the apple once per night, Célie Tremblay.”

“You recognize me from the notices outside. Excellent.” I cross my arms in my best impersonation of my sister, of Lou and Coco and every other stubborn woman I’ve ever met. “You’re about to learn much more than just my name, however. I can be quite stubborn when I want to be.”

Though he says nothing, Michal moves to stand behind me. Toloombehind me.

Eponine pretends not to notice. With another curious smile, she says, “My own sister, Elvire, speaks highly of you, mariée. I believe you met her in January when you visited Le Présage. You showed her kindness.”

Perhaps not the notices, then.

“It wasn’t difficult. Elvire is lovely.”

“There are many humans who disagree.” A pause. “However, for the sake of my little sister, I must ask... are you certain you wish to enter Les Abysses? I am not the first pythoness to warn the descent to Hell is easy, and I will not be the last. If you continue on this path, you will not be able to turn back.”

“Babette hasdied,” I say emphatically.As if any of this has been easy.“Any one of us could be next if we don’t find her killer.”

“Hmm.” Her smile fades as she considers me, but she no longer seems to seemeat all; her gaze has turned peculiar, almostinward, as if she stares at something we cannot see, and her voice takes on a strange, ethereal cant. “You seek someone, yes, but forget someone seeks you. If you are to succeed, the killer will too.”

My heart drops like a stone. “What did you say?”

Behind me, Michal radiates such cold that I can practicallyfeelhim burn down the length of my back. “Do you know the name of the killer, Eponine?”

She lifts her face toward the ceiling, still lost in the otherworld. Her hands shoot upward as well, and her fingers twitch as if searching for something, plucking at invisible strings. “No... his is not the name you need. Not yet.”

Michal steps around me now. “And yet it is the name Iwant. You will give it to me.”

“I will not.”

“Be very careful, pythoness.” Though she cannot see him, his eyes flash with the promise of violence. “I cannot compel you, but there are other ways of extracting information.”

Slowly, she lowers her hands, and her own eyes seem to clear, returning her to the present. When they finally land upon Michal, they narrow, and she draws herself up to her full and considerable height. “How very foolish you are,vampire, to risk the ire of my queen. You live on an isle, do you not?”

Michal suppresses a snarl, but even he seems reluctant to provoke the goddess of the sea. After several seconds, he forces hisfeatures into a mask of indifference, but I know—Iknow—that if Eponine invoked any other name, this night would’ve ended very different for her.

Which leaves it solely to me.

“I’m not leaving this spot until you explain.” Widening my stance, I plant my hand on my hip and glare at her. “Properlyexplain. No more riddles.” When she arches her pale brows, unimpressed, I resist the urge to shrink beneath her stare. Because I don’t care if her patience has grown thin. Mine unraveled hours ago. “I’ll stand here all night if I must. I’ll frighten away all your customers. For all your pomp and pageantry, you still need customers, don’t you? Thisisa place of business. I’ll tell everyone both brothels arefullof humans like me, or I’ll”—inspiration strikes like a bolt of lightning—“I’ll tell them the Chasseurs are on their way!” I thrust the apple toward her for emphasis. “Is that what you want? Huntsmen running amok?”

She scowls between me and Michal. “You dare invite even their name into this sacred place?”

“Oh, I’d dare a lot more than that. Perhaps I’ll invite the real thing.”A lie.“At this very second, half the kingdom searches for me. I’m quite certain that a huntsman or two will answer my call. Isn’t—isn’t that right, Michal?”

Though he doesn’t look at me—though his gaze remains cold, remote, as he considers Eponine—there is almost... satisfaction in the set of his jaw now. Perhaps triumph. “She means every word,” he says softly, strolling to the wall beside the stairs to lean against it. He tips his head at me infinitesimally before picking a crimson thread from his sleeve.

“That’s right.” My stomach swoops low at his assent. “I can beincrediblyvexing.”

Without warning, the apple flies from my hand to Eponine, who clenches it tight in her fist. “I can see that.” Her voice has lost its light, ethereal quality, and she sounds very ugly now. Very ugly, indeed. “Though even I cannot see why Elvire dotes on you. I will not give you the name you seek, but—if you leave my presence this instant—I will give you another: Pennelope Trousset. She is Babette’s cousin and confidant, and she will lead you where you need to go.”

Pennelope Trousset.I commit the name to memory, and—for Elvire’s sake—force myself to take a deep, calming breath and curtsy once more. “Thank you, Eponine. It was... interesting to meet you. Please tell your sister I’ll visit soon.”

“I will not lie to my sister, Célie Tremblay. Now go.” She waves a skeletal hand, dismissing us, those eerie eyes burning into mine even as the rest of her begins to fade, to dissipate like smoke in the wind. Her voice, however, lingers after her body has disappeared. “And take care of the company you keep. We will not meet again.”

As I follow Michal down the stairs, her true meaning rings clear and ominous behind me:Because you will be dead.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Les Abysses

I often understand why my father fell prey to magic.

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