Chapter Sixteen

“WHY IS IT taking so long?” Constantin growled as he entered the kitchen and found Michel-Leon and the Widow Bardin there, eating their lunch. Michel-Leon wrote in his journal, and she pored over the maps she was marking up with their progress in the caves. They had cleared one rockfall to uncover a series of branching tunnels that spider-webbed the area. Investigating them was time-consuming, and they had yet to find evidence of the missing boys. At this point, Constantin believed they would find nothing because the boys had been devoured whole. Still, that wasn’t his only frustration. “Nightingale should be weakening.”

Michel-Leon glanced up with that familiar abstracted expression. Too many times, he acted as if he didn’t even see Constantin. He then felt as unreal as when he cast the shadows around himself. There were times when he thought Michel-Leon was as attracted to him as Constantin felt in return. But those moments were far and fleeting.

Bardin gave him a brief smile that didn’t touch her red-rimmed eyes. “I share your impatience. Come, sit.” She pulled aside the maps to give him room.

“The magicman is tough. A creature like that doesn’t survive without being resilient, but its increasing desperation is a good sign. It spent a good number of hours last night expending its energy to claw at the barrier.” Michel-Leon put a cap on the inkwell and rose to dish a plate for Constantin. It smelled like leftover stew again. They subsisted off whatever the villagers brought them. Michel-Leon had given Salome and her daughter leave to go home to grieve if they wished, but for the time being, they opted to remain in the village.

“So far we’ve subjected it to cold, lightning, and drowning in blood.” A distressed expression crossed Bardin’s fine features. “A particularly gruesome glamour I wouldn’t care to repeat.”

“It doesn’t act desperate.” Constantin threw himself down on the bench and tore off a piece of bread from the board in the table center. “It gloats over its imprisonment and the pain it’s caused.”

It particularly enjoyed tormenting Bardin over the murder of her uncle, recounting details with hellish glee until she attempted to shoot it. Constantin sided with her on that point. He also wished to dispatch the monster and move on.

“Because it knows it gets to you. Pay closer attention next time you visit it. It’s aging. It’s going to worsen the longer it doesn’t feed and is forced to expend its energy with these attacks.” Michel-Leon set the bowl in front of him. “Eat and tell us the news. I’d hoped the time outdoors would’ve made you cheerier.”

“The orphanage is still in a state of turmoil, but at least every one of those wretched people in charge is gone, and the children already appear more relaxed.” Constantin dug in, sopping his bread into the broth. The state at the orphanage did cheer him, but the impasse with the magicman and the mists drove his dark mood right back. He shrugged and stabbed his finger at the maps. “I surveyed that area as you requested. It led to a cavern with no other exits as far as I can see.”

“Show me,” Bardin demanded, shoving the maps in front of him.

Constantin traced an area, and she made careful notes in a precise hand. “This makes no sense, Michie,” she said. “We have scoured the caves and still find more tunnels and dead ends. The mists affect not one town or village outside of Paris. I didn’t find any indication there are nests hidden within this cave system. We can keep searching the caves, but my instincts say we are wasting time there.” She folded her hands on the maps and gave Michel-Leon a searching glance. “I know the ancestors insist the answer is there, but maybe they are wrong.”

Michel-Leon’s gaze went far away while he spoke to those voices in his head. It was uncanny. An irritated expression crossed Michel-Leon’s handsome features as he waved his hand. “Always doesn’t mean forever,” he muttered under his breath. He got up and paced the room with his hands behind his back. “This could be the second anomaly. The erratic nature of the days the mists appear is the first. However, the answers have to be down there somewhere. If the boys had just gotten lost and died, we would’ve found some sign of them.”

Constantin watched him, at a loss for how to help. He knew nothing about this world of chevaliers. “There are a lot of construction sites. Maybe one abandoned in favor of other projects? Could the creature have nested there instead?”

Bardin pulled out another map. “It would be helpful for you to go back to the palace and contrive to get a map of the construction and of the cave systems southeast of Paris. We need to know what’s ongoing, what’s coming. Even if the court left for Château de Saint-Cloud, there will still be functionaries at the palace and Haussmann is still working on his rebuilding.”

Michel-Leon scratched at the stubble on his chin. “That’s a thought. My concern about the nest being somewhere in the city is that we would’ve heard of something by now. It wouldn’t be easy to hide that many eggs, which I assume is why they’ve always chosen to lay them in caves. Easier to hide and defend. In a city, anybody could stumble over them. And the creature isn’t small.”

Constantin eyed the consternation in Michel-Leon’s eyes and decided it was time to shift direction before the man worried himself into a knot. “How goes your chemical tests? Did you get the breakthrough you wanted?”

Acute frustration crossed Michel-Leon’s face. “Maybe, I’m not sure.” He sat down heavily across from Constantin and pulled out a sheaf of papers from under his journals. It was covered in notations and formulae, a language Constantin did not understand, but found compelling. “I hope we may be able to counter the effects of these mists. And I do believe the tweaks you made to the mask should be of significant benefit. I’d like you to construct another for yourself.”

“We have enough materials for one.” Constantin nudged his chin toward the formula. “You ready to test that concoction of yours on me?”

Michel-Leon stared at him aghast. “You are not my test subject, Constantin.” He colored and looked away. “Je suis désolé. I shouldn’t have addressed you so familiarly. Though you said I could, but you didn’t reciprocate, except that one time. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

Constantin merely raised an eyebrow. “We’re all living under the same roof. You and I share the same suite of rooms since I’ve taken over Janvier’s space. We are all fighting the same monsters and trying to track down the same answers. I have no need for formality if you don’t. I put up walls, but they aren’t as important anymore, Michel-Leon.”

Michel-Leon glanced down, coloring even more as Bardin looked on with fascination. She turned and studied Constantin, her gaze cool with consideration. “I agree. You may call me Régine.”

“You were going to test it out on a live subject, weren’t you?” Constantin cut in to ease Michel-Leon’s embarrassment. “I’m as good as any other, hale and hearty, and forgive me for saying so, more expendable than you.”

Michel-Leon’s face settled into stiff lines and their eyes met. “You are not expendable.” He set aside the formula. “I am sure it will work and will be nontoxic. However, I’m not sure it will work for every nest. What if the pheromones in each nest change? There won’t be another for fifty-two years, and I have no way of testing it.” He pounded his fist on the table.

“If this works and it does change, you will have laid the groundwork, Michel-Leon. Others can pick up where you left off.” Constantin tapped the sheaf of papers with his forefinger. “Worry about Paris now and another generation in another location later. But we won’t know if it works if we don’t test it.”

“I’ll consider it,” Michel-Leon said in a tone Constantin was coming to recognize that meant he was finished with a conversation. “Any new and interesting rumors in the city? How about you, Régine? Anything else we can use from the villages?”

It was gratifying to know Michel-Leon trusted him with the information gathering. He often lamented that he was wasting time chasing down rumors when he could be working on more promising leads, but they both knew it had to be done. Constantin had vast experience chasing down rumors, so it was logical for him to do it while Michel-Leon worked on his experiments.

“There are an inordinate number of people going missing when the mists aren’t out.” Constantin frowned as he relayed the conversations, and Michel-Leon listened intently. “There’s always some, unfortunately, especially in the cities, but this appears excessive even with the influx of outsiders. Do you think it’s related?”

“The villagers from Henri and Phillipe’s home have complained about the same, but not on the same scale and not in many weeks. I’ve only made a list of names of those who had been in the city when the mists came, but never returned.” Régine shuffled through her notes. “But there have been mentions of those who disappeared from the city on a sunny day. I didn’t consider it to be a factor at the time, but I could be wrong.”

Michel-Leon threw up his hands. “It’s late June. The mist cycles should be moving farther apart, not closer together. There shouldn’t be strange creatures roaming about during it. There is nothing about this that isn’t abnormal. So, oui, I’d say there is a link though I have no idea how.”

“There is another aberration. It appears some folks who have disappeared into the mists have been returned,” Constantin added.

Michel-Leon’s gaze focused on him in a way Constantin would have found pleasing if the man wasn’t focused on the mystery plaguing him. Even if Michel-Leon wasn’t utterly consumed by his dedication, Constantin didn’t have a chance in hell of capturing his attention. Their stations were so far apart. He had been content to be alone for so long, but now he was finding the idea untenable.

“How so? How many? What are their conditions? What do you mean, returned?”

Constantin held up his hand before Michel-Leon could bombard him with more questions. “Exactly how I said. People who were reported to have disappeared into the mists, but they reappeared on their doorstops overnight, befuddled. Apparently, this has been happening with the elderly, now it’s including the very young. As for their conditions, it’s hard to say.” Constantin pinned Michel-Leon with a look. “They appeared to be as disinclined to talk about it as you were.”

“It’s like a culling.” Régine frowned. “Like with farm animals. Perhaps the young had also been culled out before, but the magicman took them instead of allowing them to be returned.”

“I suspect so.” Constantin shot a glare toward the ceiling. “The creature knows more than it’s saying and today I’m going to get some answers.”

Michel-Leon laid a hand on his arm. “Give me a moment to organize here, and I’ll go with you.”

“No need.” Constantin shrugged his hand off. “You’ve been alone to converse with the monster many times. It’s my turn. Maybe our history will allow me to get something out of it that you can’t.”

Constantin left Michel-Leon behind, but he couldn’t leave the frustration. Despite the fact the château was a four-story rambling monstrosity, they occupied an intimate space together. The kitchen was safe to inhabit as was their workroom, Michel-Leon’s study, and where they slept in rooms next to each other.

Constantin had the impression that Michel-Leon wasn’t comfortable in that big, lonely bed by himself. More often than not, when Constantin went to collect him for his shift to watch over their prisoner, Michel-Leon was fast asleep on his cot in his workshop, muttering to himself. Constantin had speculated more than once, questioning if the voices gave him any rest at all, or if it was a lifetime of habit that had the man talking to himself.

No one had ever captured his imagination like Michel-Leon, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

*

MICHEL-LEON STARED hard at the door Constantin disappeared through. They were both on edge from lack of sleep, too many questions without answers, and the tension of waiting for the magicman to break. The creature was old. Older than Michel-Leon had first suspected, wily and strong. It had more surprises in store for them, and they couldn’t let down their guard. Constantin shouldn’t be alone with it. Not with their history.

“Michie.” Régine grabbed his hand as he started to go after Constantin. “I suspect he wishes for some time alone.”

“He’s been alone all morning.” Michel-Leon shook off her hand. “You know what a bastard that creature was to you, and it had only had one memory to wound you with. It has had years to hurt Constantin. It will use anything to lash out.”

“What does he mean to you, this vagabond you’ve taken in?” Régine’s eyes were concerned. “He doesn’t strike me as a man who sticks around after a job is done.”

“I’m not looking for him to stick around.” Michel-Leon rubbed his knuckles against the ache in his chest. “He’s going to help as he promised, and that’s all.”

“Somehow, I have trouble believing that is it.” Régine also rose. “I’m going into the village to check on ma tante Salome. Tomorrow we should take a chance and head into the city, depending on what Constantin gets out of the magicman. We need to start taking turns guarding it. It can’t always be you confronting it. I’ve come to terms with mon oncle Hadrien. He’d still be alive if he’d listened to you instead of coming back to help.”

Michel-Leon rubbed a hand over his aching eyes. “I should’ve anticipated that. He shouldn’t have died. That was my fault.”

“Non, Michie. It is the monster’s fault.” She came to him and slid her arm around his waist. “He did it with cruel purpose. Even if Hadrien had remained at home safe where he was supposed to be, the magicman might’ve sought him out just for the opening blow it would give us.”

Michel-Leon knew she was speaking sense, but he was tired of losing people. “I’m going to check on Constantin, then we’ll make our plans for tomorrow. Two of us to go into Paris, one of us to keep an eye on the monster.”

Régine looked as if she wanted to say something more; then she merely patted him on his arm and let him leave. Questioning his own motives, Michel-Leon followed Constantin. Was he concerned about the man because of the growing friendship and deeper feelings between them? He couldn’t get him out of his mind. What would it be like to experience passion, however fleeting, with someone, especially someone he cared for?

Occupied by his churning thoughts, Michel-Leon almost missed the trap on the inner stair. Swearing under his breath, he paused to collect his thoughts over his pounding heart. No, his concern for Constantin had nothing to do with his desire and everything to do with the fact that both the magicman and Constantin himself were an unknown with a connection between them that went beyond tormentor and victim.

After all, a magicman was a corrupted fey kissed. Michel-Leon needed to remember that.

Just as he needed to remember Constantin had enough men in his life who had wielded power over him to use him. Michel-Leon would not add himself to the list.

There had to be something they could do to speed up the deterioration of the magicman. Michel-Leon was not one to enjoy the suffering of any creature, even one who fed off children. It was better to have it over and done with cleanly. Not this slow starvation. He’d have to check the village again and the surrounding village to be certain no more children and anyone who could be taken for a child lingered nearby. He doubted the magicman’s reach could extend beyond the château, but he wasn’t about to take any chances either.

“Wait.” The warning came as Michel-Leon’s hand settled on the door to the balcony. He paused, cocking his head. “The souleater seeks to subvert the watcher.”

Michel-Leon went cold. He would not allow that monster to sink its mental claws any deeper into Constantin. It would not corrupt this fey kissed, not after how Constantin managed to rid himself of the last taint.

He opened the door, moving on quiet feet. Constantin stood at the railing, his hands white-knuckled where he gripped the railing, his posture tense to the point of shattering. The magicman caught sight of Michel-Leon, and its mocking grin widened. “Blaise misses you, Constantin. He’s sorry he never told you he loved you back. Here’s your chance to right that mistake.”

“Magic!”

The voices howled, sending Michel-Leon reeling back as the glamour settled over him, trapped him in the cage of the magicman’s vision. He fought against it even as Constantin turned toward him with a stricken expression.