The Parisian Codex

43 - Flowers

I'd been standing guard at the back of the main tunnel for ages.

Zagan had said he'd be out for "a few minutes," but he'd been gone for hours. Already, the sun was peeking above the surface. I decided to join Romane in the little cave and lie down.

She sleept in the magic circle. She must have been having nightmares, because I could hear her stirring, mumbling and even sobbing. I thought of the puppy she'd named Deva before she had to cut its throat. When all this was over, I'd find her another puppy. Some company would do her good.

With this good resolution, I settled in for the day and fell into a dead sleep.

***

I was shaken by the shoulders and reflexively tossed my head.

"Ouch," said Zagan.

I opened my eyes and spent a few seconds convincing my self-preservation instinct that we were in no danger.

Zagan massaged his jaw. He gave me a reproachful look. "Is this how you stand guard?"

"You're the one who decided I should sleep as soon as the sun rose above the horizon," I reminded him. "And you're the one who disappeared all day. What the hell were you doing?"

"The club's burned down, half my men are out of commission, and no one's protecting the mine."

"Mathieu did a better job than you," I muttered.

"It's no coincidence that this is happening now. They want to deprive me of my men".

"Or maybe all the dealers Mathieu chased out of their territories have joined forces to fight back."

"Either way, let's hurry up and finish the ritual."

The inside of the circle was still concealed by the magic spell—that damn demon had woken me up before sunset.

"Romane?" I called. "Did you hear?"

Romane's head appeared at the edge of the magic circle. She was disheveled, her eyes still puffy from sleep. "I need to pee," she mumbled. "I'll be back in a minute."

"I'll come with you," I said.

She gave me an icy look, and I felt obliged to defend myself. "You know this place is a labyrinth. I'll guide you to the entrance and stand guard. As usual."

She rubbed her face and yawned. "As you wish. But I don't know who you're guarding me against. Zagan says he's got all the members of the Brotherhood."

I put on my most charming smile. "A miscalculation can happen so quickly."

***

On the first evening of our stay, I had appointed a narrow tunnel to serve as a latrine. I accompanied Romane to the entrance and settled slightly further back to wait.

Tonight we would—well, Romane would—perform the final part of the ritual. If all went according to plan, we'd finally settle this Apocalypse business. Then I'd be able to solve my other problem. In my pocket, I felt the presence of the lead tube I'd cobbled together. Inside, the ring I'd stolen from the Louvre. The instrument that would allow me to deal with Zagan.

And then, once I'd taken my revenge, I could get on with my life.

We'd probably have to banish the ghosts Romane had invited into her apartment and get rid of her zombie pigeon, but that would be quick. The locksmith would install a top-notch door for my office, and no one would come and visit me unannounced. I'd get Romane a puppy and ask her not to betray my secret. Given her particular hobby, the necromancer shouldn't cause any trouble. When one summons demons, one is not picky about neighbors.

My thoughts turned to Kitten.

Romane had called for a demon, and Kitten had appeared. Did this really mean the cat was a demon? Had he been sent by a demon? A prince of the underworld with a hermetic sense of humor?

Did Kitten have enough water in his bowl? A cat can stay home alone for three days, but Kitten was just a baby. A baby from the underworld, yes, but still...

I giggled aloud.

My laughter echoed through the tunnel in colorful flowers.

Something was wrong. An image? No, a smell. Did it smell of tobacco? Well, not exactly. But smoke, yes.

Did Romane smoke in the latrine?

After all, why not? The kid was of age, and if she wanted to burn her lungs out ... it would make me so sad.

My throat tightened at the thought. Or maybe because of the smoke. But Romane shouldn't endanger her health. Humans died so quickly, there was no need to rush...

I wanted to call out to her, but my mouth was mushy. I would have to walk.

As I took a step, the mine ceiling tilted, and the ground rushed to meet me. I fell on my shoulder. The pain snapped me out of my daze. Something was going on ... serious? dangerous?

Both, I decided.

My brain was in a fog, a bit like when the Brothers had injected me with their filth. But I felt no sting, no liquid fire in my veins. Only the pain in my shoulder—normal, I was lying on it—and the burning in my throat.

Kitten appeared in front of me. "It's something you're breathing," he meowed.

He disappeared, and Zagan crouched down in his place. "So, you poor vampire, are you tired?"

I thought about punching him in the face, but I was as weak as a non-demonic kitten. And then Mathieu's face turned into Olga, then Mathieu, Olga, Mathieu. The demon was making me queasy with his circus act. I closed my eyes, then threw up for good measure.