Page 145
Story: The Mask Falling
“Go, now,” I called to Ivy. “I’ll wait for Léandre and Ankou. They have the prisoners from the south wing.”
Zeke half lifted Nadine to her feet. When she saw the darkness in the mausoleum, she almost bent double. Her shoulders heaved as Zeke led her inside. Ivy saluted me with the crowbar and went after them.
“Go with them,” I said to Arcturus. “I won’t be far behind.”
After a moment, he said, “Be safe, little dreamer.” Then he followed the others into the mausoleum, leaving me alone among the dead.
I willed the others to appear. When Léandre arrived, a half-conscious woman in his arms, I rushed to meet him. Ankou fired his shotgun from the top of the wall, while Léandre pushed me toward the mausoleum.
“Vite. Into the passage.” He all but threw the woman at me. “Take my sister.”
Ankou pumped his shotgun and let rip again. A ghastly sound answered, loud as a horn. A legion of voices in one cry.
Emim.
“Léandre,” I barked at him. “The prisoners—”
“Leave them to me,” he snapped back. “Just get my sister out!”
The mausoleum closed around me, black and airless. I tried to support the woman—La Tarasque—with what little strength I had left in my arms. She was raw-boned, long white hair streaming around her shoulders, and from the look of her, she had just been possessed. I guided her into the hidden entrance, then slid in after her and pulled my headlamp back on.
By the time we reached the ladders, La Tarasque had woken up a little. “Climb down,” I urged her. “Hurry.”
She placed her bare feet on the rungs, looking as if she had no idea where she was. I hoped she had the self-awareness to hold on.
We descended, one ladder after the next, back into the Passage des Voleurs. At last, we reached the bottom. La Tarasque draped her arm around my neck, too spirit-drunk to walk in a straight line. We were almost halfway back to the sleeping chamber by the time I hauled my focus to the æther.
There were still only four dreamscapes behind us.
Logic kicked in first. The prisoners must have been dosed with Emite blood, too. Yet my heart pounded, and my instinct warned me to go back. I helped La Tarasque sit and wrapped my oilskin around her.
“I’ll be back,” I told her. “You’re all right.”
She managed a dazed nod.
I started to run back to the ladders. Léandre was already off them and marching. Hot on his heels were Ankou, a silver-haired man with a cloaked aura, and a polyglot. No one else.
“Where are the others?” My voice cracked. “Léandre?”
“We could not bring all of them down here.” He brushed right past me. “They will have to take their chances in the woods.”
All feeling deserted my limbs. Jaw trembling, I caught up with him and grabbed his arm with a ferocity that took us both by surprise. He snapped around to face me, his features knitted with impatience. Ankou marched on.
“You left them.” My voice was a string, wound tight enough to snap. “You abandoned all those people?”
“I sent them toward the Forêt de Meudon. They have a chance, at least,” he said. My backbone turned to ice. “I only ever agreed to takeourpeople through this tunnel, Underqueen. You thought we were going to be able to take more than thirty prisoners back with us?”
“And these two?” I said hotly. The strangers tensed. “Did they pay for the privilege of a way out?”
“They kept up.”
His lips were set in a determined line. “This was always your plan,” I breathed. The realization clotted inside me, choked me. “You always meant to leave them.” I shook my head. “They’ll never make it through the forest. You don’t know what’s out there, what will happen—”
I turned and broke into a run.
Anyone who tried to leave through the forest would die. The Emim would hunt them. The traps would get them. I sprinted back to the first ladder and grabbed a rung. Before I could get a foothold, Léandre hauled me away from the ladder and tackled me into the wall.
“Vous allez rester avec nous,” he snarled, trying to pin my arms. “They will kill you, and Le Vieux Orphelin needs you!”
Zeke half lifted Nadine to her feet. When she saw the darkness in the mausoleum, she almost bent double. Her shoulders heaved as Zeke led her inside. Ivy saluted me with the crowbar and went after them.
“Go with them,” I said to Arcturus. “I won’t be far behind.”
After a moment, he said, “Be safe, little dreamer.” Then he followed the others into the mausoleum, leaving me alone among the dead.
I willed the others to appear. When Léandre arrived, a half-conscious woman in his arms, I rushed to meet him. Ankou fired his shotgun from the top of the wall, while Léandre pushed me toward the mausoleum.
“Vite. Into the passage.” He all but threw the woman at me. “Take my sister.”
Ankou pumped his shotgun and let rip again. A ghastly sound answered, loud as a horn. A legion of voices in one cry.
Emim.
“Léandre,” I barked at him. “The prisoners—”
“Leave them to me,” he snapped back. “Just get my sister out!”
The mausoleum closed around me, black and airless. I tried to support the woman—La Tarasque—with what little strength I had left in my arms. She was raw-boned, long white hair streaming around her shoulders, and from the look of her, she had just been possessed. I guided her into the hidden entrance, then slid in after her and pulled my headlamp back on.
By the time we reached the ladders, La Tarasque had woken up a little. “Climb down,” I urged her. “Hurry.”
She placed her bare feet on the rungs, looking as if she had no idea where she was. I hoped she had the self-awareness to hold on.
We descended, one ladder after the next, back into the Passage des Voleurs. At last, we reached the bottom. La Tarasque draped her arm around my neck, too spirit-drunk to walk in a straight line. We were almost halfway back to the sleeping chamber by the time I hauled my focus to the æther.
There were still only four dreamscapes behind us.
Logic kicked in first. The prisoners must have been dosed with Emite blood, too. Yet my heart pounded, and my instinct warned me to go back. I helped La Tarasque sit and wrapped my oilskin around her.
“I’ll be back,” I told her. “You’re all right.”
She managed a dazed nod.
I started to run back to the ladders. Léandre was already off them and marching. Hot on his heels were Ankou, a silver-haired man with a cloaked aura, and a polyglot. No one else.
“Where are the others?” My voice cracked. “Léandre?”
“We could not bring all of them down here.” He brushed right past me. “They will have to take their chances in the woods.”
All feeling deserted my limbs. Jaw trembling, I caught up with him and grabbed his arm with a ferocity that took us both by surprise. He snapped around to face me, his features knitted with impatience. Ankou marched on.
“You left them.” My voice was a string, wound tight enough to snap. “You abandoned all those people?”
“I sent them toward the Forêt de Meudon. They have a chance, at least,” he said. My backbone turned to ice. “I only ever agreed to takeourpeople through this tunnel, Underqueen. You thought we were going to be able to take more than thirty prisoners back with us?”
“And these two?” I said hotly. The strangers tensed. “Did they pay for the privilege of a way out?”
“They kept up.”
His lips were set in a determined line. “This was always your plan,” I breathed. The realization clotted inside me, choked me. “You always meant to leave them.” I shook my head. “They’ll never make it through the forest. You don’t know what’s out there, what will happen—”
I turned and broke into a run.
Anyone who tried to leave through the forest would die. The Emim would hunt them. The traps would get them. I sprinted back to the first ladder and grabbed a rung. Before I could get a foothold, Léandre hauled me away from the ladder and tackled me into the wall.
“Vous allez rester avec nous,” he snarled, trying to pin my arms. “They will kill you, and Le Vieux Orphelin needs you!”
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