Page 50 of The Shadows Beyond
Cinn pressed his hand to his heart. “Too well. I went so fast I thought I was going to start flying.”
“Maybe that will be my next project.”
Meandering along the riverside was a serene contrast to the city streets, although still busy to bursting.
“l’île Saint Louis.”Julien pointed across the river.
“A little island,” translated Darcy. “We need to cross through it.”
Two bridges, one coffee stop, and several horrendous main roads later, they were at their next destination: an extraordinarily busy glass pyramid, next to a water fountain where parents were letting their children splash around in the freezing water.
Cinn nudged into Julien. “Thought you weren’t a fan of overrated tourist traps?”
“I make an exception for the Louvre.” He winked. “It’s Paris’s greatest jewel.”
Once they’d descended under the pyramid, Cinn gaping at the impressive architecture, Julien swiftly paid for all of their tickets in the spacious underground lobby before leading them down a corridor to the exhibits.
The echoing footsteps of other visitors and the hum of quiet conversations reverberated through the grand halls, and soon they were surrounded by centuries of artistic expression that Cinn couldn’t even fathom understanding.
At once, Julien and Darcy entered full-on art-historian mode, heads pressed closely together as they discussed brushstroke techniques, cultural references, hidden symbolism, and the subtle nuances of the paintings that surrounded them.
Cinn trailed after them for a few rooms, attempting to listen to the duo passionately debating artists’ influences until his sense of being out of his depth, a novice in a world of masterpieces, forced him to retreat to a red velvet bench in the corner of the Denon Wing.
“Don’t worry, they usually run out of energy after about six hours here.”
Elliot joined him on the bench, initiating their first time alone together. Cinn side-eyed him, instantly tense. In their few weeks in each other’s company, Elliot had given off strong ‘don’t bother with me’ vibes, and Cinn was happy to oblige him.
Elliot pulled at one of his many dark blond corkscrew curls. “When we had Béatrice, the two of us would drop them here, then fuck off down the road to a coffee shop. This was never our scene.”
“Really? I kind of imagined Béatrice like Julien.”
“What, a pretentious twat?”
Cinn snorted, the sound loud compared to the quiet hush of the other tourists, and quickly covered his mouth.
“Béatrice was far more into practical stuff. She was one of those people who was always learning a new skill. She even got me to teach her how to ride my motorbike. Julien doesn’t even trust me enough to ride pillion.”
“He probably wouldn’t want to cheat on Maz.”
Elliot gave a soft chuckle, then gazed over at Julien’s back with a faraway look in his eye, a sliver of a smile on his lips. “Did you know he’s working on this side project, a mote-powered special varnish that’s invisible and undetectable to art conservators? It’s to help preserve and even restore art to its original form.” Elliot’s voice dripped with so much pride and admiration, Cinn couldn’t help but suck it up like a sponge.
Elliot, chattier than Cinn had ever seen him, seemed like he was in a sharing mood, and questions about the exact nature of his relationship with Julien danced on the tip of his tongue. His infatuation—or whatever it was—seemed one-sided, but had it always been? Was Elliot counted alongside Julien’s ‘many,many’?
Abruptly, Elliot stood. “Come on. I’ll take you to see theMona Lisa. Julien refuses to go to that bit.”
Cinn rolled his eyes. “Of course he does.”
Elliot darted off, forcing Cinn to chase after him. As he soon discovered, ‘seeing’ theMona Lisawas a challenge. Not only was the woman herself bloody tiny, crowds of tourists clambered over each other to get to the artwork. Eventually reaching the front, Cinn faced the small painting encased in glass, not really understanding the fuss, but feeling the weight of the crowd’s collective awe, nevertheless.
“Now let’s go to the only exciting bit,” Elliot announced, leading Cinn on a ten-minute march, all the way to a large open space within the Richelieu Wing, where glass ceilings bathed a bountiful collection of statues in natural light.
Now thesewereimpressive. Their colossal size, the way the sculptors made the stone seem like it could be soft fabric orreal muscles… Cinn’s fingers twitched to reach up and touch the marble, only held back by the security rope.
When they got toHercules Fighting Achelous Transformed into a Snake, Elliot initiated a silly game where they personified the statues, dramatising their thoughts out loud.
AtPsyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, Elliot declared, in a truly ridiculous voice. “Oh, woe is me! Cupid, darling, did you have to wake me up with such drama? A shake would have done the trick.” Cinn bit his fist to suppress a roar of laughter.
Then at Venus de Milo, Cinn pretended to lean on the armless statue, saying, “Oh dear, oh dear, I used to hold something fancy but it got so heavy that my arms fell off. Now I look like a T-Rex who wants some hugs. Plus, I can’t even flex anymore!”
