Chapter Thirty-Five

SMOKE BILLOWED FROM the catacombs and rose in a black, noxious column to the sky. Constantin tried to contain his fear while he examined the soldiers after they’d stumbled outside. The smoke had to be a sign the plan was working.

“Where’s Michel-Leon? Is he behind you?” Constantin asked as he offered water to the commandant.

The commandant shook his head, gulping down the water until he coughed. He wiped a hand over his face, smearing blood and soot. “Don’t know. Those things hatched and attacked. We lost him in there.”

Constantin reached for the man’s mask, hanging from his fingertips. His chest tightened with worry. That didn’t make any sense. If the swarm had hatched, they would be in the middle of hell and trying to find what shelter they could. Not one monster had come out with the smoke. He’d have to see for himself. Michel-Leon and Régine had not emerged with the others.

“Constantin!”

Constantin looked up at the urgency in Régine’s voice. She surfaced from the catacombs, as covered in soot and fluids as the rest. There were some scratches on her, but it appeared as if she had done more damage than taken. She tore off her mask. “Michel-Leon went deeper in, and I’ve lost him. I need your help. You can track him.”

Constantin leaped to his feet and grabbed one of his constructs. “Is the plan working?”

“I want to say oui, but I don’t know to what extent.” She dragged her hair back from her face and slipped the mask back on. “Vautrin’s dead, as are his assistants. The nest can protect itself, which I’m sure Michel-Leon will find interesting later, but I find quite terrifying. There’s so much to tell you, but there is no time. He’s in the heart of the fire.”

“Hold it.” Constantin grabbed her arm before she could dive back in. He concentrated on Michel-Leon and sent a construct skittering in. “It will make sure we find him and don’t get lost returning.”

“The smoke is still thick,” Régine said, leading the way with a lantern as he donned the mask he took. “So, I’m assuming he’s still burning. There’s so many of them.” In terse sentences, she relayed the rest as they found the trail.

“He’ll be fine,” Constantin assured her and prayed he was right. “If anyone is used to mental noise barraging him, it’s our chevalier.”

They found the first room with the seared ashes, bones, and shell fragments. Several soldiers were down, hacked to death with their own weapons. “We went mad. All of us,” Régine whispered with a shudder. “They made it appear as if the swarm were attacking.”

“A potent defense mechanism.” Constantin paused to get his bearings from the construct leading them deeper inside. “The trail of ash leads in the same direction as the construct. Michel-Leon went that way.”

Régine nodded and plunged ahead. The catacombs were a maze of twisting tunnels, often with uneven pathways. In some places, the ceiling was low enough that they had to crouch. Others held pools of water that he supposed the nest found convenient. It was eerily silent, so when they emerged into another crypt, a weak chittering immediately attracted his attention. He crouched low, where the smoke was thinner to get a better look around the chamber.

Shadows skittered in the corner, accompanied by a faint flutter of wings in his mind and the soft threads of a haunting song. Régine hissed and drew her pistol. “Get out of my mind,” she snapped.

“Hold the shot.” Constantin drew his own weapon and inched closer. “A few may have hatched. It’s not surprising Michel-Leon would miss some, given the number we are dealing with. We’ll have to be careful and make sure we leave none behind us. Bring the light closer.”

Régine approached, and the light fell across a small cluster of eggs that were singed, but otherwise intact. The top had broken off one and a form had slithered out to rest in a puddled heap. Long, transparent, webbed wings gleamed wetly in the smoky light, swaying back and forth to dry. Constantin had the impression of a squat, fat body with writhing appendages.

“Michel-Leon would give his right arm to study one of these,” Constantin said as he slipped off his pack. “We could learn so much, maybe even discover a way to prevent them from nesting.”

“Constantin, I don’t think this is one of your more intelligent ideas,” Régine warned as Constantin took off his coat to use as a makeshift net.

“It can’t fly yet,” Constantin observed. “Its wings are still wet.”

Those wings froze with an awful stillness, and Constantin was assailed with a powerful sense of hunger before the creature leaped at him, teeth gleaming from an open maw, tentacles reaching out. A gun blasted and it fell to the floor with a screech. With its death, the hunger vanished.

“Merci.” Constantin’s heart pounded as he approached and nudged the corpse with his toe. “Fast buggers.” He eyed the remaining two unhatched, unburned eggs. “You said the eggs had defense mechanisms. What do we need to do to get rid of these?”

“Don’t handle them. Don’t let any part of them contact you.” She lit a torch from the lantern and handed it to him. “Your reach is longer than mine. Be careful. If anything happens to you, Michel-Leon will never speak to me again.”

“I feel that goes both ways.” Constantin kept his distance, stretched out, and set the two remaining eggs on fire with his torch. Again, he sensed the chittering wings, the hunger and fear, but they quickly vanished as the blaze tore through the shells. They were easier to burn out than he expected. The susceptibility to fire might be one reason the mother nested in caves near water. “I think what makes the psychic attack so powerful is the numbers. As individual eggs, they are weaker.”

“I don’t care to analyze it.” Régine shouldered her bag again. “I want them gone.”

Carefully, Constantin wrapped the creature Régine killed in his coat and stowed it in the pack. There was too much to learn about it to leave it behind. He couldn’t risk fire destroying it. It may make the task of fighting the swarm easier for future generations.

As they followed the trail, the smoke grew denser, and Constantin was grateful for the improved masks. Piles of ash lay everywhere, the scale of it sobering. If this had hatched, Paris would’ve been doomed. A ping from his construct alerted him. “Michel-Leon?” he called and urged Régine forward. “He’s right around the bend.”

Constantin spied him first, slumped against the wall, his hands limp at his sides. “Mon Dieu,” he breathed and rushed to kneel by Michel-Leon. He checked his fluttering pulse. The sound of his breath coming through the mask was slow and even.

He was alive, but unconscious. Constantin glanced over his shoulder to where Régine prowled the crypt. “Any eggs left we need to worry about?”

“Appears like he did a pretty thorough job,” Régine said in an awed voice. “He had to have pushed himself to the limit. We’ll need to come back after the smoke clears and comb through every corridor and crypt to be sure we have them all. However, they are easier to deal with in smaller groupings. I can guide the soldiers through while you both recover.”

Constantin wanted to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. The mental battle he’d gone through had sapped him. He’d been feeding off the need to find Michel-Leon, and now that he had, he had enough left in him to get them out. Régine knew what she was doing. She reminded them of that often enough.

He helped Michel-Leon up and threw him over his shoulder with a grunt. The construct whirred toward him, and Constantin sent it a mental image of Lyon. “Get us out of here.”

“We should be getting mobbed by spirits after the amount of magic Michel-Leon expended.” Régine followed behind him, lighting the way with her lantern. Smoke hung heavy along the ceiling, moving with little eddies as they passed through. “They’re attracted to magic.”

“They’re grateful,” Michel-Leon said with a groan and stirred. “Sweet Saint Jeanne, Constantin, set me down. I can walk out of here on my own two feet.”

Constantin eased him down and took off their masks now that the smoke had dissipated some along the floor. He needed to be sure Michel-Leon was all right. He stared at Michel-Leon’s pale face in the flickering light. He appeared exhausted, but lucid, as he slumped against the wall for support. “Damned if you didn’t do what you set out to do, despite all the odds. Your ancestors would be proud.”

“We did it.” Michel-Leon looked between Régine and Constantin. “It took all of us. Is Raul safe?”

“He is. He’s with the soldiers. I told him you’d want to talk to him.” Constantin pulled Michel-Leon in a rough hug. “You did it, you glorious bastard. I should’ve said this before. Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime aussi.” Michel-Leon hugged him back with a weak chuckle. “Hold on, I promised myself this.”

To Constantin’s surprise, Michel-Leon dragged down his head and kissed him thoroughly, leaving him speechless. When Michel-Leon let him go, he flushed to see Régine watching him with an amused grin. “Look, get moving, you two. You can get emotional later. Both of you are on your last legs, and I’m not carrying either of you.”

Michel-Leon pulled Régine in for a hug as well. She squeezed them both back and pulled away. “March.” They turned obediently to follow the construct out, discussing their encounters.

“You faced your deepest fear, your darkest temptation,” Michel-Leon murmured with a sideways glance at Constantin. “I knew you had it within you.”

Constantin considered that and recognized there was a newfound peace within himself. He didn’t fear what he was anymore. “I think we’ll be fine,” he replied.