Page 133
Story: The Mask Falling
Our group splintered. I swerved right with Arcturus and Renelde, down the path we had taken from the Bassin de Neptune, while Ankou and Léandre charged to the left. Thorns and branches ripped at my hair. At the end, we vaulted over a gate and ran south, down a new path.
Dreamscapes were closing in. The little stimulant had almost worn off: my limbs were leaden, my chest tight. I swung off my backpack, grabbed an auto-injector from inside, and slowed for long enough to stab it into my thigh. With a jolt of pain, the adrenaline was in, and I was running after Renelde and Arcturus. Already I could feel my body waking up.
I shoved past another rusted gate, and suddenly we were out in the open, exposed, and the dreamscapes were too close. “Wait,” I whisper-shouted to Arcturus and Renelde, who both stopped. “They’re coming.”
“Get behind me,” Arcturus said.
His tone brooked no argument. I grasped Renelde by the arm and dragged her behind Arcturus with me. “Don’t say a word,” I breathed into her ear. She tensed.
Eight Vigiles burst from the foliage and trained their rifles on us, shouting at us to drop our weapons and get on the ground. Seeing a Rephaite, they stopped. Renelde gripped my elbow.
“Vigiles,” Arcturus said.
His voice was utterly cold, as it had been on the night we met. Having lived with him for weeks, I realized just how much he had been performing in those days, how much effort it must take him to wear this mask. It unnerved me to see him dressed like the enemy again.
“My lord.” One of them stepped forward. Her armor identified her as the squadron commandant. “Forgive me, but—”
“What is it, Vigile?”
The commandant held her nerve. “I don’t recognize you.” Her London accent took me by surprise. Weaver must have stipulated English guards here, which spoke volumes about his feelings on Ménard. “Have you made yourself known to the Grand Overseer?”
“You do not recognize me, despite the fact that I have been stationed here for a sennight,” Arcturus said, in the same glacial tone. “Perhaps all Rephaim look the same to your feeble eyes.”
Another Vigile was clearly on the verge of shitting himself. “My lord, we would never be so—”
“Not that it is any of your concern, Vigile, but I am Elnath Mesarthim. And this is Paige Mahoney, enemy of the blood-sovereign, who I found roaming this grove as if she were a tourist. Your so-calledvigilanceis wanting.” Arcturus took hold of my collar. I struggled against his grasp. “One of her accomplices has already been apprehended, but there will be more. Comb the grounds immediately. I will escort these two to the Grand Overseer.”
“But Paige Mahoney is dead,” another Vigile said. His accent was French. “We were told.”
“Then I can only conclude that this is her identical twin, Vigile. Either way, she will be processed.”
“My lord,” the commandant said. “Of course.” She paused, then spoke into her transceiver: “Rooftop west, this is 502. Hold your fire. I repeat, hold your fire. Sentinel approaching your position with two unknowns. Establish relative safe zone from the Parterre du Nord.”
“Received,” came the response.
There had been nothing this slick in the first colony. Nashira was taking no chances.
“You’re clear to approach, Lord Elnath,” the commandant said. I wished I could see her face through the visor. “Please proceed.”
“Efficient of you, 502,” Arcturus said, not looking at her. “A pity you were not efficient enough to stop these intruders entering in the first place.”
“Yes, my lord. Apologies.”
She led her squadron back into the labyrinth of groves, leaving us in the snow. As soon as they were out of sight, Renelde released her breath.
“We have to find the others.” She wet her lips. “And get Malperdy.”
I searched for them in the æther. “Ankou and Léandre are heading deeper into the gardens. Malperdy is inside.” My temples ached. “We have to take this chance to get in there.”
Renelde looked toward the palace. A moment later, she took a deep breath and gave me a small nod. I followed her out of the grove.
Vases spilled winter-blooming flowers. I kept my head down as we walked on either side of Arcturus, in full view of the windows. My knees shook. That Vigile had told the snipers to hold their fire, but if they suspected a ruse, they might decide to ignore the order.
No gunfire came. Just the crunch of boots, the sluice of breath. When we reached a wide set of steps, I risked a glance to my left. Darkness stained the snow where Malperdy had fallen.
Arcturus reached a tall pair of doors, which two Vigiles opened for us. I stepped into the gloom beyond and found myself in a gallery of pale marble, where two braziers flamed. A bloodred carpet covered the floor. This was the Lower Gallery, which ran below the Hall of Mirrors.
“Lord Elnath. Allow us to escort you to the Grand Overseer,” one of the Vigiles said.
Dreamscapes were closing in. The little stimulant had almost worn off: my limbs were leaden, my chest tight. I swung off my backpack, grabbed an auto-injector from inside, and slowed for long enough to stab it into my thigh. With a jolt of pain, the adrenaline was in, and I was running after Renelde and Arcturus. Already I could feel my body waking up.
I shoved past another rusted gate, and suddenly we were out in the open, exposed, and the dreamscapes were too close. “Wait,” I whisper-shouted to Arcturus and Renelde, who both stopped. “They’re coming.”
“Get behind me,” Arcturus said.
His tone brooked no argument. I grasped Renelde by the arm and dragged her behind Arcturus with me. “Don’t say a word,” I breathed into her ear. She tensed.
Eight Vigiles burst from the foliage and trained their rifles on us, shouting at us to drop our weapons and get on the ground. Seeing a Rephaite, they stopped. Renelde gripped my elbow.
“Vigiles,” Arcturus said.
His voice was utterly cold, as it had been on the night we met. Having lived with him for weeks, I realized just how much he had been performing in those days, how much effort it must take him to wear this mask. It unnerved me to see him dressed like the enemy again.
“My lord.” One of them stepped forward. Her armor identified her as the squadron commandant. “Forgive me, but—”
“What is it, Vigile?”
The commandant held her nerve. “I don’t recognize you.” Her London accent took me by surprise. Weaver must have stipulated English guards here, which spoke volumes about his feelings on Ménard. “Have you made yourself known to the Grand Overseer?”
“You do not recognize me, despite the fact that I have been stationed here for a sennight,” Arcturus said, in the same glacial tone. “Perhaps all Rephaim look the same to your feeble eyes.”
Another Vigile was clearly on the verge of shitting himself. “My lord, we would never be so—”
“Not that it is any of your concern, Vigile, but I am Elnath Mesarthim. And this is Paige Mahoney, enemy of the blood-sovereign, who I found roaming this grove as if she were a tourist. Your so-calledvigilanceis wanting.” Arcturus took hold of my collar. I struggled against his grasp. “One of her accomplices has already been apprehended, but there will be more. Comb the grounds immediately. I will escort these two to the Grand Overseer.”
“But Paige Mahoney is dead,” another Vigile said. His accent was French. “We were told.”
“Then I can only conclude that this is her identical twin, Vigile. Either way, she will be processed.”
“My lord,” the commandant said. “Of course.” She paused, then spoke into her transceiver: “Rooftop west, this is 502. Hold your fire. I repeat, hold your fire. Sentinel approaching your position with two unknowns. Establish relative safe zone from the Parterre du Nord.”
“Received,” came the response.
There had been nothing this slick in the first colony. Nashira was taking no chances.
“You’re clear to approach, Lord Elnath,” the commandant said. I wished I could see her face through the visor. “Please proceed.”
“Efficient of you, 502,” Arcturus said, not looking at her. “A pity you were not efficient enough to stop these intruders entering in the first place.”
“Yes, my lord. Apologies.”
She led her squadron back into the labyrinth of groves, leaving us in the snow. As soon as they were out of sight, Renelde released her breath.
“We have to find the others.” She wet her lips. “And get Malperdy.”
I searched for them in the æther. “Ankou and Léandre are heading deeper into the gardens. Malperdy is inside.” My temples ached. “We have to take this chance to get in there.”
Renelde looked toward the palace. A moment later, she took a deep breath and gave me a small nod. I followed her out of the grove.
Vases spilled winter-blooming flowers. I kept my head down as we walked on either side of Arcturus, in full view of the windows. My knees shook. That Vigile had told the snipers to hold their fire, but if they suspected a ruse, they might decide to ignore the order.
No gunfire came. Just the crunch of boots, the sluice of breath. When we reached a wide set of steps, I risked a glance to my left. Darkness stained the snow where Malperdy had fallen.
Arcturus reached a tall pair of doors, which two Vigiles opened for us. I stepped into the gloom beyond and found myself in a gallery of pale marble, where two braziers flamed. A bloodred carpet covered the floor. This was the Lower Gallery, which ran below the Hall of Mirrors.
“Lord Elnath. Allow us to escort you to the Grand Overseer,” one of the Vigiles said.
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