The Inventor's Son

Chapter 27: In Which the Next Moves are Plotted

IN FRONT OF THE MOULIN ROUGE, a rather frightened crowd gathered in the wet street, even though the danger had been over for a while. An older gentleman with a black top hat, gray short cape, and a walking stick emerged. The crowds parted to make room for him, and few of the younger gentlemen even removed their hats as a show of respect. He acknowledged them with a tip of his own hat.

"All of you may go now. There is nothing more to see here," Hardwick announced in an odd, filtered voice. People that had been previously crowding around a Frenchman on the concrete sidewalk, lying on his back, with a gouge in his chest, suddenly remembered they had a lot more important things to do besides gawk.

Once a larger portion of the crowd had dissolved, the man on the ground attempted to sit up and said, "Merci!"

Hardwick used his walking stick to push the man back down. "The only reason I'm not beheading you is because you sustained this injury while defending that boy's life."

"He is the son of my very best friend! Of course I would defend him, Sorcier!" he answered.

Hardwick narrowed his eyes, as though examining the one on the concrete. "I'm puzzled as to why you insisted on hiding your true identity to the boy. What is to be gained by him thinking that you are dead?"

"It had the effect we were after, which was to impress upon him just how much danger he is already in, although I had not anticipated him getting so injured. I long to give the boy some of my blood!"

Hardwick's gray eyes began to glow. "You know damned well that the answer to that is a resounding no! The boy has already done a spectacular job of healing himself, come to think of it. Dr. Arsenault, you had best find a way to get back to your Nest before the sun rises..."

Now, Jean-Baptiste Arsenault sat up. He looked up at the sky and gave a rather frightening-sounding roar. Within a few brief moments, the sand-haired Nicholas zipped up to Jean-Baptiste's side. He kissed Jean-Baptiste's palms and said, "Vos mains me nourrissent, Signieur Jean-Baptiste."

Hardwick gave Jean-Baptiste a keen stare. "Yours are the hands that feed me... Well, well! I see you are the Prime! How long have you been a vampire?"

"This shall be my tenth year," Jean-Baptiste told him.

"Really? A lone fledgling, I take it, until you turned this one. Oh, I see now. You changed this fellow, and he's the one that the Stanwood boy saw and mistook for you!" Hardwick surmised.

"How very astute of you, Sorcier," Jean-Baptiste answered. Then he spoke in rapid French to Nicholas.

Hardwick understood most of the chatter, and was dismayed a bit to hear Jean-Baptiste talking about what a "beautiful boy" Ethan was. "Just remember, Vampire," he snapped, interrupting them, "You are not to touch that boy's shadow again. I will know of it, and act accordingly."

Jean-Baptiste sneered. "That boy is not yours, Sorcier!"

"Perhaps not yet..." Hardwick responded, taking out the quartz chess piece and tossing it in the air, only to snatch it out of the air just as quickly.

*     *     *     *     *

Ethan looked out the bedroom window for evidence of the sun rising. The only place where the sun seemed to gleam already was the Eiffel Tower, since it was so tall. He had been so hopeful when he had been on the top of the tower with Beth. He thought he'd be able to reunite with her in the summer. He knew, now, that was not to be.

He took the dragonfly out onto the railing again. Sam stood beside Ethan as he sent the tinkering aloft into the morning sky. This time, Beth was not to try and send it back to him. He had a letter tucked into the hollowed tail again, but she would have no way to write back to him, he knew. Nevertheless, he did not want her to think he had forgotten her.

He would never forget her.

And he would never stop loving her.

He knew that some people used hate to fuel them, and others used fear. Ethan found that he could not use either. If he had any hopes of surviving until he found his father again, he would need to keep his love for Beth in his heart, keep it so that it would sustain him through whatever he would have to face next.

A mere hour later, Ethan and his companions were already at the train station.

"Ethan dear! I'm still very worried about your injury!"

"As am I, Grandmother," Ethan responded very quietly.

"This entire excursion is against my better judgment!" Sophia fretted as she had done so many times previously.

"Grandmother, I promise that once we get to Rome, I will take a rest. Besides, I know I will have a lot of quiet on the train ride as well. We're taking a slow train, from what I can tell." Ethan knew he could use his consciousness to do a healing session every day until they got to Rome.

Liam was grim-faced as well but admitted, "The only reason I see any good come of this is the fact that you shall be placing many miles between yourself and that Colbourne! But resting on a train is no substitute for resting in a proper facility!"

Ethan sighed. Even in England, the hospitals were considered a weaker alternative to treatment at home. The only reason he'd been in the hospital as long as he had been in Paris was because of Colbourne's interference. It was a miracle that he had not suffered an infection of the brain from the surgery he'd had. Silently, Ethan prayed for Dr. Devereaux. Then, he resolved to put all the horror that had befallen him in Paris behind him.

The pouch with the money was safely with Liam and Sophia. He himself carried his father's letter, and he had the trunk containing Sam's parts. Many of his father's less portable inventions, including the helicopter prototype, were still in Sophia's Paris flat, guarded by the same curse she had placed on the house in London. He made a pact with himself that he would watch his father's film one more time with Sam's help once they arrived in Rome.

Ethan thought about this day, his birthday. Only twenty three days ago, his life had been so different. His thirteenth birthday was the first one he'd spend without his father and the rest of his family. He did not dare let Liam see him wipe a tear away as he thought about the sad fact that he even missed Uncle Malcolm by now. Who would have known that he was such a home body?

Cora came over to him where he stood near the platform, and handed him a handkerchief. Ethan took it silently, and sure enough, Liam had noticed it. He came over, but said nothing. Sophia handed Ethan his ticket and took him by the shoulder over to the agent to have his passport stamped. He was actually quite grateful no one spoke to him during the process of departing Paris.

Ethan settled into his seat, which was not near the window this time. He closed his eyes and did not bother to watch as the train rolled away, toward his next destination, toward the next clue so that, someday, he'd be able to reunite with his father and then stop Uncle Malcolm.

*     *     *     *     *

No one had noticed the intrepid Miss Davenport board the train as well...

*     *     *     *     *

Ethan would try to live. He would try to be strong. He would try to do everything everyone wants him to do. And maybe, just maybe, he would finally learn the secrets that his father had hidden from him all these years.

*     *     *     *     *

The Scientist's Son is the next installment in the adventure. Watch for a sneak preview soon!