Chapter Twenty-Four

MICHEL-LEON OBSERVED Constantin as he supervised the unloading of the carriage. He had withdrawn in on himself, communicating only when pressed. He wasn’t sure what to do or even if there was anything he could do. Constantin believed himself to be a monster, and there was nothing Michel-Leon could say that would disabuse him of the notion. Constantin had to come to the realization on his own.

He hoped that by giving him some space, Constantin would work through his demons. A goal and tasks would give him a sense of purpose. He suspected that much of Constantin’s life had been spent running from his past, and now that Nightingale was dead, he was adrift.

“I wish you would tell me what happened between you two,” Régine said as he turned from the window. A worried frown marred her brow. “He is worse, not better after the magicman died.”

“I cannot tell you.” Michel-Leon met her gaze and sensed her frustration. They had never kept secrets from each other. “It is deeply personal to him. If he chooses to tell you, then I can discuss it, otherwise my hands are tied.”

Régine’s frown deepened. Cocking her head, she went to the window. “It’s because of what you’ve told me before, isn’t it? Because he is fey kissed. Answer me this, is he a danger to you?”

“Non.” Michel-Leon also highly doubted Constantin was a danger to others now that he knew what the risks meant. He would kill himself before he harmed a child. Constantin could find a way out of this, go in another direction, and reverse the damage. He had to believe in himself. “He is a danger to himself.” And that grieved Michel-Leon.

Michel-Leon retreated to his study as Constantin came up the stairs. The rustle from Constantin moving around in the workshop was a comfort. He would be occupied and safe. It still made Michel-Leon cold when he remembered where he found him, perched on the windowsill. He’d come so close to losing him right as he was coming to comprehend how much Constantin meant to him.

He couldn’t lose him. He wouldn’t. Constantin had too much to offer to the world.

“Brooding isn’t going to solve your problems,” Régine said from the doorway, and Michel-Leon sighed. Of course, she had followed him. Was it too much to ask for peace to think?

“I am not brooding.” Michel-Leon unrolled his maps of Paris and studied them. “I’m trying consider all the angles. Come, tell me what I’m missing.” He moved to the side to make room for her at the desk.

“We have been over these maps hundreds of times.” Régine came to his side. “Perhaps talking to Monsieur Haussmann may help. He has been the architect of the city for quite a while.”

“I might do that.” Michel-Leon frowned and opened his senses to the ancestors. Maybe they would see something he was missing. There was no pattern to the mists. No pattern to the missing people. There was nothing to indicate where under Paris he should start. The swarm had never made their nest so close to a city, but that might’ve been because the access wasn’t there. But the potential size and scope of this nest terrified him. That could be why the patterns were off. The nest needed to feed more.

He wasn’t entirely invested in the theory though. He was still missing an element, and it had to do with those creatures roaming the city. The next time the mists rolled through, he was going to hunt them down. He longed to confide his fears to Constantin, but he was already struggling, and he didn’t want to lay an additional burden on him.

“The Lou Carcolh.”

“Idiot!” Michel-Leon clutched his hair until his scalp stung. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning as the ancestors whispered to him. The answer had been right in front of him the entire time. “I’m a blinded idiot. The tunnels linking the quarries. I’ve never considered them. There are tunnels underneath Paris.”

“What tunnels? Do you mean the catacombs?” Régine asked as Michel-Leon scrambled through his maps, searching for one of the quarries. If anyone had ever mapped their length. Many were too dangerous to traverse, prone to flooding or with unstable walls and ceilings. “There is nothing to indicate that on the maps.”

“My memory is sketchy on them. Grandpère told me the story. Paris was having a problem with their graveyards, so the decision was made to re-inter the bodies under Paris.” Michel-Leon tapped his temple, trying to recall the details of the story. “The church forbade visiting the ossuaries for decades. They didn’t believe it should be a public spectacle.”

“Why under Paris? Why didn’t they build out?” Régine asked as she took half the stack from him.

“The tunnels were already there. They used the rock they mined from there to build the city. Then it started sinking under the weight, so they sent architects down to shore up the walls. A chevalier had to be called in because a Lou Carcolh had made its way north and settled down in the warren of tunnels and was impeding progress. Nasty creature, lethal. When they started moving the bodies down there, the stories came back.”

The map wasn’t in the stack.

Michel-Leon turned to the trunks he’d brought with him from Paris. It had to be in here. He specifically remembered culling it for the trip. When he finally pulled it out, he groaned. It was an absolute maze. They’d need to search systematically, and it would help to have a more up-to-date version.

“How would the monster have gotten underneath Paris without being seen?” Régine asked as she peered over his shoulder. “We saw it. It’s huge. How would it fit? Could it have come all the way from the village southeast of Paris?”

“Oui, oui,” Michel-Leon countered impatiently. “How did it get into any number of caves where the swarm nest was? We can only theorize because a body is never found. I suspect their mother is the swarm’s first victim. But I believe it has an ability to squeeze into places that defy its size. Look.” He traced one of the tunnel lines.

“There is an entire network of these. It could’ve worked its way closer until it found a likely nesting spot and no one would know. For all we know, it may have a way of hiding itself. Anybody who went down into the tunnels would not have emerged again. I’d be curious to see a list of missing people who disappeared down there, but I believe the visits into the catacombs are still restricted to a handful of times a year.”

“Mademoiselle Belanger,” he shouted until the maid appeared in the doorway. “Send a message to Haussmann’s office. Ask him to send me a copy of the maps of the tunnels beneath Paris. No wait, I’ll go myself. I need to impress upon him the urgency. If anyone will have one, it’ll be him.” He thought of Janvier and groaned again. “Lay out something somewhat respectable for me and your cousin.”

He loathed the idea of taking the time to change, but he didn’t know enough about Haussmann or what he may have heard about the chevaliers. He’d need all of his aura of respectability given by his class.

“Come,” he said to Régine. “We need to talk to Constantin.”

He took the stairs two at a time and burst into the workshop. Constantin looked up, startled, the first genuine emotion he’d revealed in days. “What’s wrong?”

Michel-Leon crossed to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “We’re going to need more of your constructs. The ones you use to search and more masks.” He let go of Constantin and turned away, dragging his hands through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts.

“How many more?” Constantin asked with a quick, curious glance at Régine.

“As many as you can make.” Michel-Leon spun to face him. “How many can you concentrate on when you send them out?”

“I suppose as many as I need to. I’ve never tested it. Once I’ve sent them on their search, they require nothing else from me until they’ve located what they’re seeking. Why? You know where to look? Remember—”

“The tunnels beneath the city. There’s no other answer. I’m an idiot for not considering it before. I’d forgotten all about them.”

“Michie, don’t abuse yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in Paris,” Régine chided. “And you never had to deal with any issues in the catacombs or the tunnels. If anything, the ancestors should’ve thought of it if they’d stop panicking every time the swarm is mentioned.”

“There are catacombs beneath the city? How macabre.” Constantin shook his head with a grimace, and the sorrow returned to his gaze. “There’s still one problem, Michel-Leon. I can’t search for what I can’t picture. Je suis désolé, my constructs will be useless.”

“Bullshit.”

Constantin blinked at Michel-Leon’s profanity. Régine shot him a quelling glare and laid her hand on Constantin’s arm. “What he means is—”

“Don’t tell me what can’t be done,” Michel-Leon interrupted and caught Constantin’s gaze. “Let’s see what can be done. Let’s find solutions. We have a description. I’m not sure how good it is. The man who’d seen what was left of the nest was going off memories that were fifty years old. But it’s a start. If I give you that description, do you think you could find it? Or narrow down our search.”

For a moment, Constantin’s eyes reflected his despair, and then his expression firmed. “It is worth a try. Tell me what I’m searching for.”

Michel-Leon seized on the hope and exchanged a smile with Régine. “Give me a moment.” He raced back down to his study and pawed through his books until he found his journal. He leafed through it while running back upstairs, narrowly missing tripping on the risers. “Here.” He found the section and turned it toward them. “We met a man on the train down here. He was a survivor at Metz. He found the remains of the nest in a nearby cave, including some unhatched specimens.”

Michel-Leon would’ve dearly loved to have one of those. “Everything he said is here, and we worked on a couple drawings together based on his memories and what Régine and I saw of the mother in the night sky. You can thank Régine for the notes. We’ll add what Henri and Phillippe described to their father.”

Constantin studied the page, his expression set as he muttered to himself. “I’ll let you know what I find. I’m going to invite the foreman to come with some of his men. We’re going to need more hands to make the masks and constructs. We’re going to need more materials.”

“I’ll see that you have the money and materials. I’m on my way to see about getting a map of the tunnels. If we can rule out sections with your constructs, narrow down our search. That will be less for us to do. We can start with the tunnels on the southeast edge of the city.”

“I’ll go to the telegraph office instead,” Régine cut in. “Monsieur Vautrin said he was settling in London. I’ll see if I can track him down and see what else he may remember. I’m sure it has been on his mind. Perhaps new details have emerged.”

The three of them exchanged a look filled with tense excitement. “We may pull this off,” Michel-Leon murmured.

“I admire your optimism.” Constantin straightened. “Off with you both. We have work to do. I’ll warn Salome to expect several more people, at least.”

“And I’ll let Mahout know to open more rooms. We might have to double up if you get enough volunteers. I can stay with my aunt and cousin. If you share a room, we’ll have enough space for a crew.” Régine gave Michel-Leon a bland look. “I’ll meet you out front on the hour.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Constantin said as he turned away, killing Michel-Leon’s wistful wish for a kiss.

“That won’t be necessary,” Michel-Leon said, and Constantin stiffened. “If you’re uncomfortable with me, I can have a couch brought in,” he continued and hurried out before Constantin could say something to reject him further.

*

“MERCI FOR SEEING me. I know the demands on your time are enormous,” Michel-Leon said as he was ushered in to Haussmann’s crowded office. “I am Michel-Leon Parisee, and I need your help.”

“I’d heard of your mission.” Haussmann smiled faintly. He was a round man with dark receding hair and a kindly face. “I’m afraid it was being mocked in certain circles at court.” His smile fell away. “Those dissenters, for the most part, have fallen silent and more of those with money to spare are fleeing Paris in greater numbers. The emperor is quite desperate.”

Not desperate enough to call for Michel-Leon, though, or to offer aid to his people. He was still safely away from Paris at the summer court. “I’ve narrowed down the location of the nest. I believe it’s under Paris, not outside it.”

Haussmann’s eyes brightened with understanding. “The ossuaries.”

“Indeed, or even the greater area of the quarry tunnels. I’m praying you have maps that are more up to date than mine.” Michel-Leon took the seat offered him. “Mine predate the catacombs when the tunnels were still being shored up, and I fear they are not complete. From what I’ve gleaned, the system is quite vast.”

“You are in luck. The tunnels under the city intrigued me on an engineering level. Therefore, when I began the reconstruction of Paris, I had new maps made as I wanted to be sure they’d wouldn’t cause any issues with my vision.” Haussmann called for an aide and spoke briefly with him. “We ended up interring more bones from cemeteries as we expanded the renovations.”

“How many entrances are there?” Michel-Leon asked.

“Well, one official one. Near the Barrière d’Enfer. I’ve considered closing off the entrance after an entire party went missing down there. I had concerns they had wandered into an unstable area. From what I understand, everyone who went hunting for the missing party also disappeared. However, given the extent of the tunnel network, there are many other places where it can be accessed.”

“Closing the main entrance is a good idea if you have the authority to do so.” Michel-Leon tapped his fingers together as he considered the issue. Michel-Leon wished he had heard about the missing people sooner. They might’ve been buried among the other lists of the missing. He was closing in on the nest. He sensed it. Now he had to figure out the battle plan. “The missing people were probably enticed into the nest. The mists are alluring, like bees to honey. Anyone caught in it would be unable to resist. I doubt the creature is near the main entrance. It would want people to come down, but not too many at once. It would want to space out its feedings.”

“That is a terrible thought.” Haussmann grimaced.

“By any chance, was your missing party in the southeastern side of the city?” Michel-Leon asked.

“How did you know?”

“There were a couple of boys who had seen the creature land near a village southeast of Paris. They went searching for it and never returned. I know the tunnels are extensive, but I’m not sure how extensive.” For all Michel-Leon knew, the creature could burrow itself into rock.

“Hundreds of kilometers,” Haussmann replied. “Something needs to be done about the mists, and I for one am willing to offer whatever aid I can. I’m behind schedule, and there’s so much more to be done. The Paris project keeps expanding, though, I’ll admit, that’s partially my fault as I have new ideas. Still, we need to get back on schedule.”

Michel-Leon refrained from damning his schedule. People were dying and more would come. Haussmann was cooperating, and he couldn’t jeopardize that with ill humor. The aide returned, carrying a bundle of rolled papers.

Haussmann thanked the man as he accepted the bundle and dismissed him. Michel-Leon took the bundle with trembling hands and unrolled them. He stared at the honeycombed lines, mapping out likely routes and possible nesting sites. “Let’s start by closing all the entrances that we can determine. I suspect the creature has made its way to the heart of the city. Then it could send its lures over the entire city for sustenance.”

“How do you plan on searching if people are lured in when they get near?” Haussmann asked.

“I’ve developed some equipment with a local genius, Constantin Severin, that helps filter out the effects. I’ve also developed an inoculation that so far appears to work. I’m trying to expand on it. We have volunteers helping.” That had always been the problem before. They had the knowledge to track down the mists, but not the equipment. “With more manpower, we can expand our search. We’re getting close and none too soon.”

“Do you know how to destroy the nest when you find it?” Haussmann asked as he marked accessible entrances for Michel-Leon’s benefit.

“I am still studying the best way of doing that.” Michel-Leon examined the notes, making plans to explore. “We’ve never gotten this far. In the past, we’ve relied on evacuation.”

“Which will not work in Paris.” Haussmann straightened with a grimace. “I’ll have more copies made of these for you, but you can use this for now. You must understand. These are incomplete. I don’t think anyone has done a survey of all the tunnels. Some are too dangerous to explore. It’s easy to get lost down there.”

“I do understand. It is a start.” Michel-Leon rolled up the offered maps, his heart pounding with purpose. He’d pick up Régine, meet with Constantin and his team, and they would get started immediately. “If you will excuse me. I must go. There is no time to waste.”