Chapter Nine

MICHEL-LEON EYED the men crawling over the staircase and worried his lip. “Are you sure that’s the only trap there?” he asked again, unable to quell the anxious question Janvier had already answered several times.

“If there were more, they would’ve triggered it already.” Janvier caught him by the shoulders and directed him toward the kitchen. “Salome has a luncheon packed for you. Have breakfast and go. I suspect your search of the countryside will take considerable time, and you still need to direct Régine in her inquiries for today. There is no point in overseeing this project.”

Michel-Leon turned toward the kitchen on reluctant feet. There was nothing he could do here but wring his hands and feel responsible if anything did happen. At least with the search, he’d have a chance of being useful.

“Morning, my lord.” Salome nodded toward a plate covered with a napkin. “Tuck yourself into something hot there.”

“Grandpère finally chased you away?” Régine asked with a grin as Michel-Leon joined her.

“Most decisively.” Michel-Leon twitched aside the napkin, and his stomach rumbled. She’d loaded the plate with eggs, thick bread, and a slab of ham. A mug of strong coffee steamed nearby. He’d been up half the night, trying to find answers to his many vexing questions to no avail. This was just what he needed to wake himself up. “Merci, Salome. This will do quite well.”

“I should take a break from making inquiries in the city,” Régine said, pushing aside the remains of her breakfast. “I’m not finding anything new with my questions there. I could be more useful eliminating areas for you to search, interviewing the locals and getting possible locations.”

Michel-Leon eyed her trousers. She was all ready to go. He needed to give her more responsibility. She was intelligent, capable, and driven. Right now he couldn’t afford to quibble over social niceties and, quite frankly, his deep-seated fear of losing people close to him. He would smother her if he did.

“Let’s look at the maps and figure out where to start.” He nodded toward the thick pile Janvier had stacked neatly to the side. “But for the sake of my sanity, bring Hadrien with you, s’il vous plaît. I know it feels like I’m sending a keeper, but that’s not it. You’ll be able to split up in the villages for your inquires and guard each other’s backs while covering the countryside.”

“And who will guard your back?” she asked with a grimace but nodded and pulled out the maps, knowing she wouldn’t get a response. “I see you’ve marked what you’ve already searched. Where do you plan to look today?”

“I’ve been concentrating on the areas near the château and expanding outward. So far, we haven’t hit on even a hint. Let’s assign you in an entirely different direction. We have to speed up our searches.”

As they poured over the maps and made plans, a knock came at the kitchen door. Salome moved to answer it and returned a moment later. “My lord, there’s a Monsieur Constantin Severin here to see you. The one who’s been sending you the notes. Shall I invite him in or send him on his way? He says to tell you, ‘I know what you search for in your journals when you are alone at night, and I know why you allow no visitors. I have some of the answers you seek.’”

“Oh, him.” Régine made a disparaging sound. “He’s an odd one, if you ask me, impatient and rude. He’s a con man, looking for a payout. What a ridiculous message.”

Michel-Leon glanced up from the maps, intrigued by the cryptic message as the ancestors tried to call out through the barrier he’d erected. What were the chances that his intruder would return so boldly? That was the one person he could think of who would give such a statement. Michel-Leon suspected that at least one mystery from last night would be solved. He lowered the barrier in his mind long enough to send out one query, and the answer came before he’d even fully formed the thought.

“The watcher is here.”

Indeed.

“Go ahead, invite him in and offer breakfast. I doubt another refusal will deter him.”

Michel-Leon sat back and studied the man as he came in. He had the impression of a slim figure swathed in layered and patched clothes. A hat jammed low over his head shaded his face, and long, wavy, gold-shot hair tumbled halfway down his chest. He didn’t appear like a man who could render himself invisible. He appeared to be a harmless vagabond. Someone with abilities such as that could steal whatever they wanted and live like a king. Now, this was interesting.

“There is no point in me staying since our guest has no use for women,” Régine announced as she rose with a glare in their visitor’s direction. “I’ll let Hadrien know we’ll leave within the hour.”

Michel-Leon almost warned her that Severin was their intruder from the night before but stopped himself. He could handle the man, despite his abilities. They needed to move faster on what was happening with the mists. If she knew, she’d insist on staying. “Be careful,” he urged, and she waved him off.

“I’m always careful, Michie.”

Michel-Leon waited until she left and then turned to Severin. “You’re a man who has an uncanny knack for uncovering secrets. Seems like that would be a very dangerous profession,” Michel-Leon said as the stranger sat on the bench across from him. “Almost as dangerous as infuriating my sister.”

“It has its hazards, same as any other.” The voice was husky and then it lightened with rueful amusement. “As I have so recently discovered to my chagrin. My apologies to your sister. I thought you were trying to foist me off with some excuse.” He took off his hat and Michel-Leon found himself staring, to his profound embarrassment.

Monsieur Severin was beautiful, with sharply chiseled features, a sensuous, soft mouth, and dark eyes too old and mysterious for his lovely face. The man gave him a cynical smile as if he knew what Michel-Leon was thinking.

Michel-Leon glanced away, caught off guard. He’d known for years that he was more attracted to men than women. Not that it mattered since he’d taken his vow to not wed, to concentrate on his duties as a chevalier and nothing more. It wasn’t like he’d ever had much time for dalliances anyway, and his father never would’ve stood for his tendencies. His thoughts flashed to Lord Lennox, and he banished them as fast. No sense going down that road again. And there was no sense in allowing his attraction or curiosity to distract him from the fact this man was dangerous and had his own motivations for being here.

“So, you were the one spying on me in my laboratory,” Michel-Leon said as Salome laid another plate in front of Monsieur Severin. “Merci, Salome. S’il vous plaît, leave us. We have some private matters to discuss.”

“Of course, my lord.” She wiped her hands on the towel and cast their visitor a look. “Should I let Janvier know?”

“Oui, s’il vous plaît.” Janvier wouldn’t interfere, but he’d keep an eye out. Michel-Leon waited until she closed the door and they were alone. “Did you discover what you wished to know?”

“Not even close.” Monsieur Severin dug into the food as if he had not eaten for a week. He was thin. Perhaps that was the case. “I had not reckoned on a place like this. The locals warned me it was dangerous. I thought it haunted, and ghosts have never bothered me.”

“The Château des Ombres has many dangers, some I’m not even aware of.” Michel-Leon had never met anyone like Monsieur Severin. His beauty was unearthly, he knew about magicmen, and he must have a talent for glamour.

“Is he human?” he asked the ancestors.

They stirred and murmured amongst themselves. “For the most part,” came the maddening answer with no further clues. The mystery deepened.

“I apologize if I’ve caused you any concern when I observed you,” Monsieur Severin said. “I thought you might have sensed me, though I’d be curious to know how.”

“Almost as much as I’d be curious to know how you couldn’t be seen.” Michel-Leon eyed Severin’s set expression. “And I suspect we’re both going to be disappointed. We don’t know each other well enough to give up such closely held secrets.”

Monsieur Severin smiled faintly. “Now that is a dilemma. Do we satisfy our curiosity at the expense of our safety?” He shrugged and continued eating. “But I suppose that is a conversation for another day and not why I came. I will be happy to share my tricks with you, but it comes at a cost and a condition.”

“I am your captive audience.” Michel-Leon rose and retrieved the kettle on the stovetop to refill both of their cups. “I am assuming the cost is my help in destroying a magicman. There are not many who know that name. Are you sure that is what you’re dealing with? They appear very humanlike. The signs that they aren’t are subtle.”

“Oh, I am very, very sure.” Monsieur Severin leaned forward and fixed his grim gaze on Michel-Leon. Those fine features twisted with old hate, pain, and fear. “I know this particular monster personally.”

The ancestors hissed with disapproval, and Michel-Leon closed the link between them before they could start babbling. He studied Monsieur Severin with new understanding and a pang of empathy. If he survived a magicman as a child, he was far tougher than he appeared. He could almost understand why the man invaded his space. Almost, but not quite. “Je suis désolé for what you endured. You would know better than most the nature of the creature.”

Monsieur Severin’s shoulders relaxed. “You must help me. As a Chevalier de Rouen, you have the tools and knowledge I need to make sure this monster never harms another child. It is your duty. S’il vous plaît, baron, I will pay any price you ask.”

The naked plea in Monsieur Severin’s voice made Michel-Leon flinch with shame. His frown deepened as he clasped his hands together. There were too many monsters, and to have to prioritize one life over another was deeply painful. It went against everything he believed in. “They are difficult to harm, Monsieur Severin, you must know that. I have other problems facing me at the moment.”

“The mists from the Seine and the missing people.” Monsieur Severin set aside his plate and gave Michel-Leon his undivided attention. “I have some information which may help.”

Michel-Leon tried to quell his excitement. There had been no leads, and he was running out of options. This may be a break, even if it came at a cost. He might not trust the man, but he couldn’t afford to ignore him. “Let us start over again. You may call me Parisee, not my lord or baron. I am not one to demand you defer to me, and you do not appear like the kind of man who defers easily. If we are going to work together, we should be companions.”

“Severin will do,” he replied roughly. He hesitated and took a sip of his coffee. “You have read me right. I have been in Paris for a month now. I came in not long after the mists started, and I’d heard of the missing people and witnessed the growing unease. It almost caught me on my first day here. The broadsides you’ve sent out have been of immense help.”

“If you know about the mists and what they portend, then you know I have my hands full.” Michel-Leon glanced toward the closed door, his gaze far away. “Every time it rises, more people disappear. If this continues, Paris will be depopulated. And as you say, I am a Chevalier de Rouen; it is my duty to attend to this more pressing problem. As devastating as a magicman is, their ravages are usually on a smaller scale and rarely lead to the deaths of the children involved. At least not right away. I will turn to it once the swarm is destroyed.”

“What of the other chevaliers? Surely, they can help.” Severin gestured around at the empty kitchen. “Why are you here alone if the situation is as dire as you say? Where are your brothers in arms?”

Michel-Leon stared down at the coffee in front of him. At the question, the voices whispered as if in answer to a call. His sudden surge of loneliness, grief, and sense of isolation broke through the wall he’d erected. “My brother died at the hands of a melusine when I was a young man. My grandparents and many cousins died in the fire that consumed my ancestral home back in Lorraine. Demon marked, I believe, though I haven’t taken the time to investigate the ruins.” It was sealed for now, and that was enough for him. One day, he’d have the courage to investigate.

“There was another city before Paris. Have you heard of the decimation of Metz?” Michel-Leon glanced up and met Severin’s startled gaze. He shook his head and Michel-Leon continued. “It happened in my grandpère’s time. The chevaliers bungled it. Over thirteen thousand died, including all the chevaliers who were there. It put us in disfavor with commoner and noble alike. As you can image, an order such as ours collects enemies. Old enemies with fearsome abilities. They began hunting us once we fell out of favor.

“I could recite stories for days about what befell us, but the telling would depress us both. The main one being that devoting yourself to hunting down the monstrous and inexplicable does not make for a long and secure life. Those that survived their younger years often found their sanity crumbling from what they’d encountered.” Add in the edged gift they all inherited, and Michel-Leon was surprised the order lasted as long as it had.

“What are you saying? There are not enough chevaliers left to aid us?” Severin caught and held his gaze. It was almost as if he refused to allow Michel-Leon to drown in the memories or fall prey to the screaming that wailed in his head once he began talking of the purge. His gaze kept Michel-Leon grounded.

“The remaining chevaliers died in a raid a decade ago.” Michel-Leon paused and the silence between them grew taut. “Because of that, there is one chevalier who still fights on. But I am only one. You should’ve talked with Régine. She knows what she’s doing and she’s been helping me. It’s still not enough.”

Severin jerked up from the table and walked away, rubbing his hands on the dirty, worn fabric of his pants. “Is there any hope for Paris or are we consigning them all to hell? The children included?” He whirled around to face Michel-Leon, his eyes blazing.

“I always have hope. Even if right now my hope lies in Napoleon agreeing to evacuate. I can’t afford to fail. Metz’s death toll was in the thousands. If this continues, Paris’s will be in the hundreds of thousands.” Michel-Leon rose as well and gathered the lunch that Salome had laid out for him. “So, you must understand why I can’t afford to help with the magicman. I’ve spent too much time here already when I need to be scouring the countryside. Je suis vraiment désolé, Severin. If there is anything you can tell me that will help, I’ll appreciate it, and I’ll return the favor as soon as I am able.”

Severin paced, muttering under his breath, but when he faced Michel-Leon again, his expression was set. “I believe the magicman has information that will help you. I’m not saying this just to get your attention. S’il vous plaît, a moment longer of your time. In return, whether you help or not, I’ll aid you with the mystery of the mists. I don’t know what capabilities I have that will be of assistance to you, but if it will get your attention faster, I’ll do it for the children.”

Michel-Leon hesitated and then gestured toward the rough kitchen table. It couldn’t hurt to listen a little longer. “S’il vous plaît, sit and tell me what you suspect.”

Severin sat at the table and pulled out a small tool pouch and a mess of wires and metal. “May I? I organize my thoughts better when I am tinkering.”

Michel-Leon paused long enough to allow the voices to give warning if they suspected treachery, but they remained silent. “Go ahead. As I’m sure you’ve seen, I do as well.” He wondered how long Severin had spied on him at his experiments and research.

Severin shrugged and selected a tool. “Though I had no idea what your tinkerings did. I didn’t pay any attention to the rumors of the mists because the foremen were hiring from the recent shortage.” He glanced at Michel-Leon. “I didn’t care, you understand. I needed work.”

Michel-Leon waved his concern aside. “I doubt you were alone in that relief.”

“It was bad enough that any hint of the mists rolling in had the foremen scrambling to send us away with the promise to return on the morrow. I found myself locked in a tavern with dozens of terrified souls, and that’s when I sensed the magicman prowling outside, hunting.”

“How did you know it was a magicman if you were inside?” Michel-Leon asked.

“It felt…familiar.” Severin’s clever fingers plucked wires out and twined them together as he bent over the pieces to attach small bits of metal. Michel-Leon found himself as intrigued by his actions as he did his words. “I didn’t show up for work the next day. Instead, I hunted it.”

“How have you been surviving without wages?” Michel-Leon asked softly. He had never heard of anyone who could sense a magicman before, but he’d also never talked with one of their victims either.

Severin froze, hunched over his work. “Stole some things, sold some others.” His fingers began flying again.

“Using your abilities to hide?” Michel-Leon poured him some more coffee. “I make no judgments, merely curious.”

“Mostly for the kiddies. They’re starving. I suspect it’s because of the magicman feeding off them as much as the rotten food.” Severin turned back to his work as a little construct came to life between his fingers. “I tracked it to an orphanage. While I was there, I noticed it continued to go out during the mists and a child I’m watching over said it did it every time. She also said lately that it’s been coming back with more children than normal. Those children cry out in their sleep about monsters in the mists and needing to follow the music.”

Michel-Leon frowned. “There’s nothing in the few notes I have that mention monsters. At least not at this stage. When the swarm comes, then there will be monsters, and it will be too late.”

Severin stared at him with wide, apprehensive eyes. “I’d ask how bad can it get. How much more do these children have to suffer through, but I already know the answer. Maybe I’m reaching, and maybe these children are merely reacting to the horrors they faced and made up the whole bit, but I don’t believe that. If there are monsters out there, it’s meeting with them. So if anyone has answers, it’s Andre Nightingale.”

Michel-Leon blew out his breath and drummed his fingers on the table. “Perhaps. I’m intrigued, if not quite yet ready to jump. It would help if I could speak with one of the children myself. It might be useful to know exactly what happened to them when the mists appeared.”

Severin rubbed his hands on his arms and looked away. Michel-Leon took the time to study his elegant profile. Clearly, he was a man who had learned to survive on the edges of society. He could’ve traded on his beauty, but Michel-Leon suspected he hadn’t. He didn’t have time to be intrigued by him.

“I have such a child. She has not been out in the mists, but she has spoken with ones who have. She is observant and intelligent.” Severin cast a sideways glance at him, his expression shadowed. “I rescued her because she was like me.”

“In what way?”

Severin hesitated. “From what I’ve been able to gather, both through my experience and from what I gleaned from other survivors, each magicman feeds on children in its own way. This particular one savors the slow loss of innocence. It feeds off pain and sorrow. So it causes it in many ways, then comforts its victims so it can repeat the cycle until there is nothing left of its victim or the child becomes a hardened adult.”

A sick churning started in Michel-Leon’s gut. “I can’t imagine what you and the others have endured.” He’d delve into the journals again and go into deeper contact with the ancestors. There had to be an answer in there that could help Severin. He could recruit the Belangers to assist with the research as well.

Severin lifted one shoulder in a careless gesture, though the spasm of emotion that crossed his face said differently. “Like me, she sensed when it fed. To the other children, Nightingale is the man who dries their tears, cossets them, and gives them treats. As nightmarish as their world is, many of them came from places just as bad, and the magicman gives them what little kindness they’ve ever known. For Gabrielle and me, it’s another layer to the hell.”

Michel-Leon rubbed his chin as he considered that. Severin and the child were in danger. A child like that who would have the double trauma would be too valuable to let go of. Bringing them here posed its own dangers, but those he could control, and once he’d spoken to the child, he could send her far away from the magicman’s reach.

“Is it necessary to dredge up old horrors for her? Just give me the weapon that will work against it, and I’ll dispatch the monster myself.” Severin’s hands clenched into fists. Michel-Leon believed he had the spine to do it and the patience and intelligence enough to recognize the dangers. If Michel-Leon had a dozen more like him and Régine, he would be more at ease.

“Severin, I don’t want to cause any more wounds. I’ll be gentle with my questioning. The more information we have, the better our chances. Besides, if she is like you, it will search for her. You both would be safer here.”

“Forgive me if I disagree with that.” Severin rubbed his shoulder with a pained expression. “I carry bruises from my last visit.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Still, there are safe places and paths within the château. The people here know them. Even if the magicman tracked her here, it would have a hard time getting to her without alerting us.” Michel-Leon paused, reluctance evident in the unhappy line of Severin’s mouth. “We will discuss ways of destroying the monster when you have returned with her.”

Severin’s mouth turned down even more. “I don’t suppose I have much of a choice. I’ll fetch her, and then we’ll talk. So this means you will help?”

“That isn’t much of a link. It could be a coincidence.” Michel-Leon’s jaw hardened. “But it’s enough for me. A magicman is too canny to not get as much information as it could about the other monsters that prey in its territory before it set up a new home. Even if it has nothing directly to do with the mists, I would hazard to guess that it knows something about them. And I’d like to know how it moves around in the mists without being snared by them.”

Michel-Leon held out his hand, and Severin grasped it in a firm grip as they took their measure of each other. “I know it’s only the word of a street rat, but you help me and I’ll help you in return.” Severin met his gaze and held it.

“Anyone, man or woman, urchin or titled, who is willing to take on a magicman to save others is someone whose word I’ll accept.” Michel-Leon gave Severin a stern look. “I expect you to extend the same courtesy to my companion. She knows what she’s doing. She is not happy about the way you turned her away.”

Severin jerked his shoulder, his eyes tightening in irritation. “I’m not used to dealing with women. I’ll apologize to her.”

Régine had a natural beauty about her and a forthrightness that often made men uncomfortable. Too many thought of taming her, and Michel-Leon was happy to know she wasn’t at all interested in being tamed. She would not give Severin an easy time of it. The mark against him would be a stumbling point, but the fact that he was the intruder would be the bigger one.

“Well, I’ll be off. It’ll take me a few hours to get her and get back. I’ll want to make sure I’m not being followed.” He rose and jammed his hat back on his head. “You have your own investigation to conduct. Let’s say we meet again around dinner and take our measure then.”

Severin didn’t trust him enough to reveal where he was staying. Michel-Leon couldn’t blame him. He didn’t trust Severin much either. The man had spied on him, invaded his sanctuary. Non, until Severin was ready to share his little trick, Michel-Leon would guard his own secrets. At least he trusted Severin to watch his back until the moment they killed the magicman; after that, he had little faith.

“Done then.” Michel-Leon considered the problem a moment longer. He needed to catch up with Régine before she left. “I’m going to send the Widow Bardin with you. Taking the carriage will be faster, and she can help if you run into trouble.”

Severin grimaced and then nodded, his eyes glittering with unhappiness. Well, that would make two. Régine would not be happy when he told her, but he wanted her to observe their intruder and get her honest opinion.