The Inventor's Son

Chapter 22: In Which a Fateful Meeting Nearly Occurs

ETHAN AND SAM tread through the lobby as quietly as they could. There were still a few fellows lounging about, even one reading the newspaper. He was an older gentleman who seemed to be making quite a show of it, snapping the paper open and such. Ethan glanced at the newspaper, and when he saw it, his breath caught in his throat.

The owl against the full moon!

The very image that his father had scratched into the banister at the Eiffel Tower was in full display in an advertisement on the back page of the man's newspaper! That must have been the symbol he'd noticed earlier and hadn't had a chance to examine more closely because the man at the stand had chased him away.

Silently, Ethan read the advertisement for La Chouette d'Or, which was an establishment described as a cabaret, a word which Ethan did not know the definition for in English, but he suddenly recalled the nurse calling it a place for singing and dancing. He dared to sneak just a bit closer. He tried not to disturb the older gentleman in any way. After squinting, Ethan was able to make out that its address was somewhere on Boulevard de Clichy.

That was good enough for Ethan. If he could make it to de Clichy, he was sure he'd find the place on his own. He gestured to Sam to follow him, and waved farewell to the poor doorman who had seen him in such a state before.

*     *     *     *     *

Just after the boy and his father's strange toy walked out of the lobby, the older gentleman lowered his newspaper and watched. Hardwick felt a grudging admiration for this boy. He certainly was determined! If only Hardwick felt that the boy's father was worthy of all his son's efforts.

Then, Hardwick recalled that he'd heard the boy would be turning thirteen very soon. "If this boy isn't a Taurus, I'll snap my wand in half!" Hardwick muttered under his breath.

He folded the newspaper and then realized what it was that Ethan had most certainly been looking at: an advertisement for some place called The Golden Owl. That strange emotion, that uncertainty, filled Hardwick again at that moment.

Just what was that boy up to? Surely he wouldn't be heading to such a place in his condition, would he? Could it have something to do with his father?

Hardwick tucked the paper under his arm, then casually entered the gilded lift. When it got to the fifth floor, he sauntered out. Immediately, Hardwick noticed it. He smiled. A curse had been placed on the doorway of Mrs. Ballard's flat, and the boy had been the one to place it. No doubt, they wished to keep the flat, the occupants, and the contents safe from Malcolm Stanwood and his multitude of minions.

He tentatively touched the wall where the door might have been, if he were able to actually see it. Hardwick sensed the power, and he smiled. But he also noted the complete lack of confidence in the boy's spell. He shook his head. This spell was put in place before the boy had been injured. If he had lacked such confidence back then, Hardwick could only imagine how badly the boy's self-esteem had been damaged from his injury.

Well, if he was ever going to shackle that boy, he'd need to be convinced that the child was worth the trouble. So far, Hardwick was not convinced either way. And the wait-and-see approach did not suit him well, but he had no choice. He'd seen what happened when someone was shackled when they should not have been. It only resulted in death.

Hardwick turned to leave when suddenly, a very tall dark haired fellow seemed to burst out of the wall into the corridor, calling "Ethan! ETHAN!" Hardwick watched the man dash down the hallway and into the stairwell. With widened eyes, Hardwick used his index finger to draw a line of light, then took a step forward. He seemed to dissolve into the very air.