LES DÉSCENDANTS

~Chapter 3: Faire confiance (To Trust)~

"No..." I groaned, hanging my head. Not something else to go wrong...Enjolras's father, not in Avignon, but here?  In Paris?

"Av, remember we didn't find the second half of the artifact inside Enjolras's tailcoat," whispered Courf.  "What if the enemy did get ahold of it, and already know what we're trying to do?  What if they've figured out how to do it, too?  What if they're already here?"

"No," I whispered back, "otherwise they would have done a Flash..."

"What if they're waiting for June 5th?" Courf said, growing scared.

"We can try to figure that out, but what we need to do now is make sure that Javert is actually sending him away.  We can't jump to conclusions..."

"Wot're you two whisperin' about?" said Gavroche, folding his arms.  "An' wot're we waitin' for?  They're gettin' away...don't you wan'ta follow them?"

"Of course," I said, the decision made.  "We've got to see if we can get any information...otherwise perhaps this might be harder than we thought.  Grantaire, are you coming with?"

Confused, Grantaire nodded and followed us.

Slinking behind the two members of the National Guard - my ancestor!!! and Enjolras's father - we were only able to hear indistinct mumblings.  I turned to Grantaire and Courf, who shrugged.  I turned to where Gav had just been standing, and he was gone.

"Gavroche!" hissed Courfeyrac, clearly feeling the bad parent in our situation.

"Shh!" Grantaire hissed back, even louder, pulling us both down as we watched Metias Soult hand a bag to Jacques Enjolras.  "I'll bet my money that that's money," Grantaire whispered in my ear, his voice just loud enough for only me to hear.  Then, Jacques turned and left, and Metias stood, cocked his head, and listened.

We held our breaths, and my heart's loud beatings felt traitorous, while we waited.  Then, Metias turned and tipped his cap in our direction.  We watched in silence as Javert emerged from behind us, on his way to meet Metias.  I gazed in silent fear as he saw us.  His eyes widened with surprise, and I pleaded with my own eyes.  Please, Javert...please don't give us away...

Courfeyrac shut his eyes in fright, and Grantaire smirked grimly, prepared to run.  I touched his knee.  Wait.

Javert walked until he was just past us, and beckoned Soult forward.  Grantaire shook his head uncomprehendingly at me but I held my hand out.  Wait.

He could be bringing him closer so we could overhear.

" 'Tis done," spoke Soult.

"Excellent," rumbled Javert.  "And the funds?"

"Given.  He has enough for round-trip to Avignon.  And your lead?"

"I am certain about this.  He is there, Metias."

"And if he is not," sneered Soult, "you're fired."  He strode away, past our hiding spot and around the corner, disappearing into the darkness.

Javert had just saved our butts.  

Grantaire's eyes widened as he realized what was going on, just as Javert stalked off, continuing down the street away from us and never looking back.  He mouthed, "But why?"

"It's ok, Courfeyrac, you can open your eyes now," I said softly, standing up.  "I'm worried he's off to tell someone -"

"He won't tell," spoke Gavroche, returning to us breathlessly.  "You won't believe what I heard."

"I'm sure we can guess," Grantaire said, wryly.  "First guy's job is on the line.  Who are these guys?"