Chapter Twenty

CONSTANTIN EYED THE stables and determined his own two feet were good enough. He could seat a horse decently. He’d had practice from time to time, but he’d never been confident on them the way Michel-Leon and Régine were. The village wasn’t that far away. If all went well today, Michel-Leon wouldn’t be nearly as alone as he feared.

“Constantin.” Régine called after him, and when he pretended to ignore her, she ran after him. “Constantin! A word, s’il vous plaît.”

“I don’t have time for words.” Nightingale was close to succumbing, and Constantin wanted to be there when it happened, or he’d never believe for certain the monster was gone.

She growled low and fell into step beside him, dressed once again in her trousers and scarred boots, her hair pulled back in a plait that was neat for now. By the end of the day, the curls would escape in a crimson halo. Constantin finally understood her and her moods. She flipped between cool disdain when she was defending herself and passionate fury when she was defending others. The fire in her eyes today told him everything he needed to know. She was going to badger him about Michel-Leon.

“You will make the time to speak to me,” she said between clenched teeth.

Constantin gestured to the road. “We can talk on the way, then.”

“Where are we going? You were rather vague at breakfast.” She shot him a fulminating glare. “He might not have noticed, but I did.”

“To the village.”

“I thought you might’ve been trying to go off to the cave system alone,” Régine said. “You know, he always wants at least two of us there at a time. He doesn’t want to risk anyone getting snared unwittingly. To be honest, I don’t know how much farther we can delve there. We encounter more rockfalls than open passages. It’s not safe.”

Constantin made a noncommittal sound in response. He agreed with her summary of the situation, but the fate of the two lost boys pulled at him. He knew what happened to the people who disappeared into the mists. They were fodder for the growing swarm, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to try. If he had known the boys, he could’ve used his beetles to find a trace of them, though he wasn’t sure if his abilities would work on finding the dead whose soul has gone on.

“Why the village?” Régine persisted.

Constantin thought of Michel-Leon’s words, how they were in this together, and sighed. He wasn’t used to telling others of his plans. “You know how much he worries about being the singular one in this fight.”

Régine made a disparaging sound. She was good at that, conveying her thoughts without words. It was a skill. “He’s not alone. He has me and grandpère and I suppose you.”

“Does this mean you trust me?” Constantin asked.

“You did spy on him.” Régine eyed him, weighing and measuring. “But after the initial contact, you treated me like an equal, so I have to give you some measure for that. You’ve stuck by his side. I know something happened between you, him, and the magicman, but he won’t say what it was.”

“The usual, threats and jabs that hit at the heart of who we are. The same things it attacked you with.” Constantin’s conscience nagged at him. Régine couldn’t help either of them if he lied or withheld the truth. “Though it used our old connection to try to have me harm Michel-Leon on one occasion, but I fought back.” There was no need for her to know about the embrace. At first it had infuriated and humiliated him to have Nightingale witness it. Now he was coming up with reasons to pursue a second embrace.

“Has it been able to attack him directly or just through you?” Régine persisted.

“Just through me. I’m the weak part of this plan.” As much as it galled Constantin to admit it. “One of the many reasons why Michel-Leon ordered me to stay away.” For now, he’d listen.

“Michel-Leon is planning something,” Régine said unhappily. “But he won’t tell me what, probably because he knows it will upset me.”

That was intriguing. Constantin would ponder that while they were out and then corner Michel-Leon later to discover what he could get out of him. “Well, if you’re coming along, you might as well help. We’re meeting a group from Paris and the villagers this morning. I sent out messages yesterday.”

“What for?” Régine asked, baffled. “We’ve asked for volunteers for the caves already, but we’ve moved beyond the area they know. We’ve gathered what information we could from those who survived the mists.”

Constantin shook his head. She was as stuck in the old ways as Michel-Leon. He supposed that was understandable. “Michel-Leon needs more people, not just me, you, and your grandpère. He needs more chevaliers, so I’ve recruited some.”

Régine stopped in the middle of the roadway and stared at him with an open mouth. “But he doesn’t want more chevaliers. The curse—”

“Exists through the blood,” Constantin interrupted. “He wants a new way to pass along the information the chevaliers have gleaned, through the books he’s creating, if he ever has the time to work on them. These people will help buy him time.”

“Well, oui, that’s part of it.” Régine hurried to catch up, her voice curious. “But he also doesn’t want to get people killed. He’s too softhearted.”

“But we’re not.” Constantin glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “They know the dangers. They are not going into this blind, and we will train them to defend themselves. We’ll give them the knowledge that will give them the edge.”

“You’re going to stay,” Régine said in a soft voice, and when Constantin glanced at her, she was eying him again, the weighing and measuring back. “You care about him.”

Constantin shrugged uncomfortably. “I suppose you could say I care about you all. My family is long gone. I keep in contact with my brothers, but they have lives and needs of their own, and I don’t get to visit them as often as I like.” He paused, uncomfortable with Régine’s steady regard and giving voice to the welter of his emotions. “I suppose you could say you and Michel-Leon are like family to me. I’m not going anywhere, not after the magicman is gone, not after the mists.” He didn’t comprehend he’d made that decision until the words were out of his mouth.

Régine looked as if she wanted to say more but clamped her lips shut and remained silent until they reached the outskirts of the village. There were a good two dozen of them, men Constantin had spoken with and gathered information from since he’d started working with Michel-Leon.

Régine scanned the faces. “I recognize many of them. Good choices. Where are the women?” She turned and lifted a brow in his direction. “Women have a stake in protecting their homes as well.”

“Ah, well.” Constantin scrambled for a way out of this. “I thought I’d leave the recruitment up to you. You’d be the better judge of who can handle it. Michel-Leon would want to coddle and while I know a woman can be capable of defending herself, I think you’d be better at this.”

Régine clasped his arm with a warm smile. “Smart answer.”

“Bonjour,” Constantin said as they approached. “For those of you who haven’t met her yet, this is the chevalier’s sister, the Widow Bardin. Do you have anything new to report?”

Constantin studied the group of assembled men and, if he judged rightly, he’d have names to add to the list he’d created. Everyone here had a vital stake in the situation unfolding in Paris. They had shown resolve and intelligence. Michel-Leon could use men like that at his back.

“The inoculation worked like a charm. Not one of us had any issues,” Foreman Lyon said. “Though, if you don’t mind, we’d like some of those filtering masks as an added precaution.”

“That will be arranged. Especially since we will require your help soon. We plan on hunting those creatures you spied in the mists sometime soon. Hopefully, within the week.” Constantin clasped his hands together. “May we count on your help?”

“You’re not really an itinerant worker. Are you?” the foreman asked, narrowing his eyes.

Constantin didn’t know what he was anymore. “I am a monster hunter, not a chevalier, but a man who is interested in keeping those I care for safe. To that end, I seek others like me.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances, though Foreman Lyon stuck his chin out at a stubborn angle, and a glint of resolve appeared in his eyes. “I’ve never heard of the chevaliers recruiting before.”

“There has never been a need before. They recruited from within, but the chevaliers are a relic of our past. If we are going to have a hope of fighting the monsters of our future, we need to band with the baron and his sister and learn what they know.” He gestured to Régine. “Did you want to add a few words?”

She stepped forward, her bright hair shining in the summer morning sun. “Monsieur Severin is right, as much as it pains me to admit. What made the chevaliers strong is also what led to their downfall. Constantin has this radical idea of recruiting and training, and I believe it’s a good one with one caveat. There are all kinds of monsters. You from the city understand the threat of the mists and you from the village have had to contend with the presence of a magicman as well. Your streets are empty of children until it is safe for them to return. The streets of Paris are also heavy with fear and sorrow. If the chevaliers pass on, then there will be no one left to defend France.”

“Eloquently put, my lady,” Constantin said with a bow of his head. “What say you all?”

Constantin wanted Michel-Leon to have permanent backup. Not just him, Régine, and her family. That man would never lay down and quit, not until he was dead. He knew it haunted Michel-Leon. He knew the man was reluctant to bring others into this, which is why Constantin intended on presenting him with men and women already committed to the idea.

“It is a dangerous thing you propose,” Foreman Lyon said slowly, his brow furrowed with concern. “Some of us have families, other careers.”

“Because we have families is why we must consider it.” Another man stepped forward. “This is something that can be done in degrees. Whether we participate like we are now, as needed, or if we go with Constantin and become one of them.”

“Exactly so.” Constantin nodded at him in a gesture of respect. “I’m not asking you to give up your lives and follow me. I’m asking for aid when we need aid. I’m seeking to build a network in every town and village, so when there is a need for help, we find it there. And if there are those who are willing to devote their lives to this hunt, then they would be welcome. You need not decide today or tomorrow. Consider that and go with your gut. That’s how I’ve survived, and if you know of anyone else who would be interested, then s’il vous plaît let them know to talk to me or to Widow Bardin.”

“Which brings me to my caveat.” Régine cast a stern glance around at the men gathered. “I fight alongside the chevalier. If you have women among you who wish to learn how to defend themselves, who wish to learn how to defeat the monsters stalking them and their children, I urge you, s’il vous plaît let them join.”

Constantin and Régine conversed with them a while longer and collected several names of those who were interested. “Why didn’t you take the horses or carriage?” Régine asked as they headed back to the château. “It would’ve been faster.”

“My own feet have always worked well enough for me.” Still, in this instance, Constantin wished he had. They’d been gone from Michel-Leon for several hours already. It made him nervous to leave him alone with the magicman, even if the only ones Nightingale had harmed had been himself and Hadrien. “This has been a good morning’s work though.”

“I agree. And I’ll leave you to tell Michie about it since it was your idea.”

Constantin eyed Régine. He longed to ask her about Michel-Leon. He didn’t understand him, but he wanted to. It was patently clear Régine and Michel-Leon had a love for each other, even though they were not the siblings they claimed to be. He knew Michel-Leon had no intentions of ever marrying or having children. So what happened between himself and Michel-Leon was of no concern to anyone but each other. Still, Michel-Leon acted reluctant to open up any further about his emotions.

He wasn’t comfortable dragging Régine into it, and she appeared content to walk in silence. Constantin brooded over it, afraid it was their class difference that bothered Michel-Leon, but he finally decided he needed to talk with him. Because he was falling in love. Better to know his chances than live on false hope. He’d done that before.

He closed his eyes, picturing the expression on Michel-Leon’s face when he said he cared. That alone made it worth the chance.

By the time they walked into the château’s courtyard, clouds had rolled in, heralding rain. The deepening shadows of nightfall and the dark and brooding edifice reflected Constantin’s mood. The château’s outside mirrored the dangers within, but it still had a grace and charm all its own that he often overlooked.

The château was silent, but the oppressive gloom of a dying magicman clung to the aura. Constantin felt a twinge of pity for the creature and hardened his heart against it, counting all the dead he could lie at its feet. Even counting the names he knew from his childhood added to the names of its most recent victims, Constantin knew there were so many more corpses piled on like cordwood behind them. Non, no pity for that thing.

Salome met them with hands on her hips. “Neither of you had returned for a noon meal, and my lord has not pulled himself away from his study all day.” She pointed to a neatly packed basket. “I was about to bring this up to him.”

“I’ll take it up,” Constantin said, remembering his promise to Janvier to keep Michel-Leon fed.

“And I’ll eat here, then check on our prisoner.” Régine gave Salome a smile of contrition. “Is there anything I may help you with?”

“Oui, eat.” Salome pointed to the table. “Especially if you’re going to deal with that thing.”

Constantin headed upstairs after Salome added his dinner to the basket. He hoped the man was overworking in the lab or study and not once again trying to pull information out of a monster that would rather die first before giving them any aid. The workroom was dark, but light spilled in a warm glow from the study.

Constantin paused in the doorway and took a moment to scrutinize Michel-Leon. The lamplight brought a warm, rich glow to his untidy curls, and his expression was intent as he noted details in one of his many open journals.

Michel-Leon paused, and a smile flitted across his face. “How fares your inquiries?” he asked without taking his eyes from the journal.

“How do you always know when I’m here?” Constantin asked. There were many times when it wasn’t apparent Michel-Leon heard voices at all and other times when it was quite clear. He had been witness to many a one-sided argument, which was often startling and sometimes entertaining. “Do your ancestors announce me?”

“Like a hundred Janviers with half his charm.” Michel-Leon glanced up with an inquiring expression. “I hope it doesn’t disturb you. Janvier warned me many times to not answer them out loud. It is another instruction of his I’ve failed to master.”

“You should talk more of your successes and less of your failures,” Constantin reproved, and Michel-Leon grimaced. He held up the basket. “Let’s eat and I’ll tell you of my inquires, but before we start, since I don’t want to lose my appetite, I sense Nightingale is still with us?”

“I dislike that you can sense it, but oui. I suspect that it lives off malice and memory as it once boasted.” Michel-Leon stacked his books to the side to make a cozy spot for them to eat. “Je suis désolé, Constantin.”

Constantin shrugged and unpacked the basket. “The monster may have its memories and rot with them. When this is over, I’ll not think of it ever again.”

“A fitting punishment.”

As Michel-Leon rose to help him, their hands brushed together, and a tingle of heat went through Constantin. He caught Michel-Leon’s hand. “I…” He trailed off as words failed him. He brushed his thumb over Michel-Leon’s pulse and felt it skitter. He was not as immune as he tried to appear.

“I believe I know what you’re going to say, and it cannot be.” Michel-Leon pulled away with a smile of apology. “I’ve taken a vow of chastity.”

Of all the responses Constantin expected, that was not it. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Faint color appeared on Michel-Leon’s cheeks. “I swore I wouldn’t pass along the curse to any children. I watched people be consumed by it. I can’t knowingly give that burden to another, especially one of my own, without their knowledge or consent… I won’t do it.”

Constantin considered him, trying to gauge the real reason, as Michel-Leon wouldn’t meet his eyes. He understood his excuse was a factor, and he couldn’t blame him for not wanting to have his children deal with the voices. But that didn’t explain it all. “You carry too much alone, Michel-Leon.”

“Well, who else is there?” Michel-Leon met his eyes and smiled again. “Other than Régine and you.”

Constantin’s heart skipped and he longed to reach out to him and pull him into his arms, but he sensed Michel-Leon was still skittish. “You do not fight alone. I know you worry about the chevaliers dying out.”

Michel-Leon gestured to the scattered books. “I worry the journals will not be enough.”

“What about volunteers?” Constantin cocked his head as Michel-Leon’s gaze sharpened. “Those who train as chevaliers trained, without the burden of the voices, those who join with full foreknowledge of what they will face. So it is their choice.”

Michel-Leon’s brow wrinkled in a troubled frown. “It’s a dangerous choice. It’s not a question I want to have to ask.”

“I’ve done it for you.” Constantin pulled the list of names from his pocket and handed it to Michel-Leon. “These are people from the village and Paris who want to help. Most of them only want to be involved as long as the mists are here, but there are three who are interested in fighting alongside us for the long road.”

Michel-Leon scanned the list with a stunned expression. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Consider it, and while you’re at it, think about why you’re alone when you don’t have to be.” Constantin caught and held Michel-Leon’s gaze. “Neither one of us will ever have children. You and I both err on the side of choosing to remain alone. But even I know the power of allowing yourself to be held. It helps you to remember why you fight.”