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“Stéphane,” I said hoarsely. “I presume.”

“The courier. Hello.” A ring glinted in their nose. “I see Ducos put you straight to work.”

“She did.” I rubbed my throat. “Thanks for keeping an eye on me.”

“Yes. Very weird to be watching your body while you are . . . out and about.” Stéphane raised a thin eyebrow. Like the other agents, they sounded French. “Hungry?”

Now that I thought of it, I was. I accepted a shard of almond brittle.

“So,” I said, “what does being a courier involve?”

“I take intelligence and equipment from the sub-networks of Paris to other agents across France.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“The most dangerous job in Domino. When I am not doing that, I sometimes cover for Albéric, who is spread thin, and Cordier, who does as she pleases. And Ducos thinkssheis the overworked parent of Mannequin.” Stéphane checked their watch. “She asked if you got what we need. If not, you can stay here tonight and make a second attempt in the morning.”

I swallowed. The brittle was hard on my throat. “I’d like to stay,” I said. “I have some promising information, but I think I could get more.”

“Super.” Stéphane pulled on their jacket. “If you want more food, there is a very good Greek place next door.” They slapped some banknotes onto the counter. “Welcome to Mannequin.”

I had barely managed a thank you before they were gone, leaving me alone in the apartment.

Now I had the whole night to myself. And a plan. What I intended was a risk, but I had my doubts that the façade with Frère would hold up for another day. Ménard was far too sharp.

No, I would do what I needed to do tonight, prove to Domino I was a safe bet, and carry on working for my own ends. Before anyone else woke, I would possess Frère one more time and get into the Salon Doré. I would crack the safe and steal its contents, anything that might hint at where Sheol II was.

I would have to do it without a ventilator. For that, I would need to be quick—and much closer to my host. With my dissimulator in place, I locked the apartment and stepped into the evening chill.

An enticing scent drifted from the Greek cookshop next door. I bought a slice of spinach pie and two hot flatbreads to go. While I ate, I walked south.

The Hôtel Garuche loomed sinister in the blue light of the streetlamps. I sensed Frère inside. Even though it was past sundown, day Vigiles stood guard, armed to the hilt. Ménard must not want to employ clairvoyant Vigiles on his own doorstep, even if he saw the use in stationing them elsewhere.

Unsurprisingly, there were no derelict buildings near the mansion, nowhere to use as a hideout. It would have to be the rooftops. I took note of how the nearest buildings connected, spied a service ladder that would allow me to get up high without the Vigiles seeing me.

The golden cord gave a soft ring. Arcturus, wondering if I was on my way back.

Tomorrow.

He would only tell me not to go. I needed to do this now, before my window of opportunity closed.

I would not leave another colony standing.

****

With my approach sketched out, I returned to the safe house and slept until the alarm went off. Moments later, I was heading back toward Luce Ménard Frère.

I used a drainpipe to climb one of the buildings I had scouted. The service ladder took me higher. For the first time since my arrival in Paris, I could see the spire of the Eiffel Tower, shining as if with moonlight. Nick and I had planned to climb it together one day.

I could marvel later. Once I was off the chimney, I picked my way along the mansard roof until the Hôtel Garuche was back in sight, then used my belt to fasten my ankle to a flue. I didn’t want to slide to my death while I was only semi-present.

Do not think of it as splitting yourself, Arcturus had told me once,but leaving a shadow behind.

The last thing I saw through my own eyes was the stars above Paris, half covered by cloud.

****

Unbroken darkness. The scent of fresh linen. I took a few slow breaths and reached blindly to my left. Smooth fabric slithered under my fingers. Frère had closed the curtains around her bed.