The Conspiracy of Us (25 page)

N
o one told me where the wedding was being held, but I should have guessed. The drive to Notre-Dame felt like the longest few minutes of my life. I barely even noticed the lights reflecting off the Seine or the golden glow of the ornate bridges arching over it, radiant against the dusk. When we got out of the car, the Dauphins' guards stayed far enough away to accommodate my umbrella as I sloshed through puddles. The bottom of my dress would be ruined, but it wasn't like I cared.

From across the square, a rowdy group of tourists laughed and catcalled at us. I thought for a second about yelling for help, but I knew it'd be a bad idea.

I hugged the handle of Elodie's umbrella to my chest, trying to let the rush of raindrops on its canopy drown out the rushing in my head. And then, I felt a click. Where the handle had been smooth a second earlier, now it wasn't. A thin ribbon of shining metal protruded from it.

I worked at it with my fingers, drawing the thing the rest of the way out.

A knife.

A small, thin blade, about four inches long, its handle part of the umbrella handle.

Whether it was because Luc was Elodie's best friend and she didn't want him to have to do this, or because she'd rather see me gone from France altogether, I wasn't going to say no. I was so much smaller than the guards that my umbrella hid me, so I was able to work the little knife down the bodice of my dress, under my arm. Its tip dug into my side, but it should be okay if I stood very straight.

Now I had to figure out when to use it.

Maybe that little bit of subterfuge opened my eyes, because all of a sudden, I noticed a phone on the belt of the guard in front of me. I didn't know my father's phone number, but I might be able to call the Order, just in case Stellan hadn't. Plus, I could try my mom again.

I waited until we stepped up on a curb, then cried out and fell into the guard, careful to stay upright enough not to stab myself. As he whipped around, I pulled his phone out of its holder and stuffed it under my arm. “Sorry,” I said, standing back up. “I tripped.”

The guard scowled, but didn't say anything. I worked the phone down the other side of my bodice.

As we got to Notre-Dame, I remembered Jack telling me that the left-hand door, with the triangle over it, represented the Circle
watching over the common people.
I sniffed. Unlike yesterday, when tourists had flowed in and out of the main entrance, only that left door was open now. We stepped inside.

After the thundering rain on the umbrella, the inside of Notre – Dame was silent and as echoey as a cave. Tall candles lined the entrance, their flames casting elongated shadows, and dozens of chandeliers bathed the soaring archways along the nave in warm light. When my ears had adjusted, I heard the whispers of the crowd and saw the occasional head turn to sneak a glance at us. I let myself hope for one second that my father had heard about this surprise wedding and showed up to stop it, but no outraged Saxons ran toward us. How ironic. The fact that he actually did care enough about me to search for me meant he wouldn't be here when I needed him.

The guards deposited me in a small room near the entrance to wait. I locked the door and pulled out the phone, dialing the Order's number.

All I got was dead air. No signal. I cursed under my breath.

My gaze darted around the room. One small window, high up on the wall. A confessional booth. That was it.

I shoved back my veil and searched the room for something to climb on. There was a rickety stool in one corner, but it wasn't very tall. I pulled open the door of the confessional booth and found a chair. I dragged it across the room, climbed up, and tried to grab the windowsill.

I twisted too far and the knife in my bodice pierced my side. I bit back a whimper and dropped back to the chair, panting. It was too high. I'd never be able to reach, and probably wouldn't be able to get through the bars, anyway. What
else
?

Wait.

I jumped off the chair. Inside the confessional booth, behind where this chair had been, there was another tiny door.

Voices outside the room got louder. The guards were coming back.

I sprinted into the confessional and shoved against the little door. Nothing. I jiggled the handle, pulled. It stayed firmly shut. A loud knock came at the door. I lowered my shoulder, ran into the door, and it flew open. Inside was pitch black.

The outer doorknob rattled.

I stepped inside carefully—and my feet found stairs. I reached back out to pull shut first the door of the confessional, then the inner door, and fumbled my way up the steps.

I could feel cool, rain-scented air coming through tiny holes carved in the wall, but there was no way out of the dark, so I hurried up and up and up, as fast as I could, really glad now that Elodie had loosened my corset. I hoped beyond hope that this would somehow lead to an exit. Strangely, no one was following me yet.

Finally, an outline of a door. I held my breath and eased it open, not sure what I'd find. Empty.

I stepped out cautiously, and only then did I realize I wasn't in a room. I'd only made it to the balcony that surrounded the center of the nave, on level with the colorful stained-glass windows.

I stood behind a pillar, breathing hard, and peered down to see Monsieur Dauphin and Luc at the altar that had been closed off yesterday. After a few seconds, a guard approached. He whispered something to Monsieur Dauphin, who stiffened. He glanced up, almost at me, and around the rest of the balcony.

He said something to the guard, and the guard disappeared.

How was I going to get out of here?

I kicked out of my too-loud heels and tried not to trip on the heavy, soaked hem of my dress as I hurried down the balcony, sticking as close as I could to the wall, trying every door I came across. There had to be another stairway. I kept expecting to hear the clomp of guards' boots, but the balcony was eerily quiet.

The clearing of a throat directed my attention downstairs. Then, the sound of Monsieur Dauphin's voice.

“Thank you all for coming this evening. As you all know, our family's tragedy is just the latest in our adversaries' plan to take down the Circle, family by family.” Murmurs went up in the crowd. “I know some of you suspect, as I do, that the Order's information about us is too detailed to be coincidence. I am happy to report that we have caught the traitor who has been passing information to the enemy for months.”

What?

A roar went up from the crowd.

“Bring him,” Monsieur Dauphin said, and I had to peek out from my hiding place.

Below me, a guard dragged a prisoner to the front of the cathedral. All eyes were on him as he passed, handcuffed and bound at the ankles, a dark hood obscuring his face.

When he got to the front, Monsieur Dauphin yanked off his hood.

The whole audience gasped.

I gasped with them.

The man the guards were holding was Jack.

T
his boy has been using his status as a Keeper to betray us.” As Monsieur Dauphin said it, he glanced up to the balcony surrounding the nave. “And now, all of you will watch as his crimes are punished.”

A guard drew a huge knife. Monsieur Dauphin threw Jack to the ground, then looked up again.

He knew I was up here. He was using Jack to draw me out. Oh no. Oh no no no. If I showed myself now, we'd never get out of here.

But I thought of Jack, saying that the Saxons and Mr. Emerson were all he had in the world. The only people who cared about him.

It wasn't true, not anymore. They weren't all he had, and Monsieur Dauphin knew it.

He raised a hand to the guard.

“Stop!” I screamed.

The guard paused. The whole congregation whipped around to stare up at the balcony. I made my way to the railing.

“I'm here.” My voice, so small, echoed through the now-silent cathedral.

Monsieur Dauphin waved his hand, and a group of guards ran off. I stayed exactly where I was, staring at Jack. He held my gaze, and it helped calm the desperate thoughts running through my head. We'd find another way. We'd have to find another way. No more than a minute later, the guards burst through a door on the other side of the balcony.

They bundled me back down the stairs. One of them pulled the veil over my face, and another tossed my abandoned shoes at my feet, and I slipped back into them. We emerged into the nave. My heels clicked loudly on the black-and-white marble floor. A small bloodstain from the knife was spreading on my side, staining the wedding dress. The congregation stared.

“I'm sorry,” Jack mouthed as I got closer. I shook my head.

“Let him go,” I murmured to Monsieur Dauphin. “That's the only way I'll do this.”

Monsieur Dauphin glanced around at the dozens of guests—the president of France a few rows away, glowering at Jack. Padraig Harrington, the golfer, wearing an amused grin, like this was the most fun thing that could have happened today. “You have my word,” he said.

He pulled Jack to his feet and propelled me toward Luc, who stood at the altar, looking nearly as lost as I felt. But to him, the mandate was fate.
Destinée.
Especially since they'd lost his baby sister. I knew that, as much as he might want to, he wouldn't stop it.

Luc steadied me with a hand on my elbow, and I spun to watch Jack stumble away down the aisle, his ankles still restrained. Not twenty feet away, a pair of guards jumped up and caught him, and a man in a white turban gestured with a flick of his wrist for them to hold him to the side.

“Wait—” I cried.

Monsieur Dauphin leaned in close beside me. “I said
we
wouldn't catch him. I didn't promise no one would.”

I choked back a whimper. I'd thought maybe he wouldn't kill me if I exposed what he was doing in front of all these people, but suddenly, I wasn't so sure. But even if it was ridiculous—me against the whole Circle—I was going to have to try, and not just for myself now. We were in a semi-open space. It was possible one of these doors led to the outside. If I caused enough of an uproar, I could try to free Jack and run.

Monsieur Dauphin stood in front of us. “I do apologize for the dramatics,” he said. “We'll now move on to the purpose of the day. The marriage of my son, Lucien.”

I shuddered, and felt Luc tense beside me. Down a side aisle, Jack stood suspended between two guards.

I blinked through the veil, itching to yank it off. I couldn't do it yet. If I was going to have any chance, I had to choose the right moment.

A priest stepped forward and took my hands and Luc's. He bound them with rope, then produced a knife. “Rule by blood,” he said, and I remembered the saying from the books I'd seen that first day. He made a shallow slice across each of our palms. I hissed at the sharp sting but tried to stay still, not fight, lull the guards into backing off farther.

The priest pressed our two palms together and tied the rope tighter. Then he held up a candle. “Light in the dark,” he said, and passed the flame under our hands, searing the knot shut. Luc laced his fingers through mine and squeezed, and I squeezed back. This wasn't his fault.

The priest leaned over our hands and began an incantation in a language I didn't know. As he did, another priest approached and, to my surprise, pulled my veil off my back so my shoulders were exposed. And then, there was a snipping sound, and I felt the priest touch my head. He held up one wide, dark ringlet.

My free hand flew to my head. They'd
cut
part of my hair?

“In the
gamos
ceremony, the blood ritual and the offering of a lock of hair symbolize purity and commitment to the marriage,” the priest continued, switching to English when he'd finished his prayer. “And now, the marriage vows.”

The timing still wasn't right, but this was the last chance I'd have.

With my free hand, I ripped the veil off my head and tossed it in a pile on the floor. “Do you realize what the Dauphins are trying to do?” I yelled. “Look at my eyes!”

A murmur rippled through the crowd; a few people in the back rows stood to get a better look. Monsieur Dauphin rose from his chair.

“I have purple eyes,” I said. I yanked as hard as I could, and my hand came free from Luc's with a spatter of blood across my white dress and the bite of rope burn on my wrist. Luc's mouth fell open, but he didn't stop me. “I'm Alistair Saxon's daughter, and the Dauphins were going to marry me into their family without telling you.”

The room burst into an uproar. Monsieur Dauphin lunged for me, but I leapt off the altar and ducked behind the huge gold cross. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw guards surge between Monsieur Dauphin and the crowd.

In the chaos, I managed to slip into an alcove, where I worked the knife out of my dress. I'd gotten as lucky as I could have hoped—the whole crowd seemed to be turning on Monsieur Dauphin. Only a few people, and fewer guards, were headed my way. I waited a few more seconds, then ducked out the side of the altar area and ran toward Jack. I steeled myself to fight off the guards, but as I approached from behind, they shoved him against a wall and joined in the fray.

Jack's eyes widened when he saw me. “No, Avery,” he said. “You might be able to get away. Just leave me!”

“Are you insane?” I dropped to my knees and started cutting through the rope around his ankles, the knife slippery from the blood on my hand. “I'm not leaving you.” I sawed harder, but I wasn't going fast enough.

Someone else fell to the ground beside me, and I whirled, knife in hand.

Luc had his own dagger ready. Instead of reaching toward me, he sliced through the ropes. “Hurry,” he said.

I gave his arm a quick squeeze, and Jack hauled me to my feet.

We turned around, but stopped when we almost ran into a dark-skinned little girl. She must have been about eight, and stared up at me with huge, awestruck eyes. Her mom dashed up and grabbed her shoulder—and then she noticed me, too, and stopped short. She dropped to her knees.

“My lady,” she said in a heavy accent, and raised her hands to her forehead, palms out. “Blood save you.”

I glanced at Jack. He looked as surprised as I felt. I took a step back from the woman, but then a man dropped to his knees next to her, and made the same sign with his hands. “May I offer my son,” he said reverently. “To raise up the Circle. To save us all.”

“What the—” I breathed as another man in a nearby pew noticed us and hurried over.

He didn't fall into the same position. “Guards!” he yelled. “Seize her!”

I backed up another step. Blood dripped from my palm onto the marble floor.

I had forgotten Luc was there until he stepped in front of me. “Friends. Brothers,” he said with a quick glance at me and a nod of his head toward the back of the church. “We know this is a miraculous time.” He circled the people smoothly until they were all facing away from me. Behind his back, he made a subtle hand gesture.
Go.

I pulled on Jack's hand, and we backed away, toward a wide column. “Look!” Luc said. I saw him gesture toward the altar. “There she goes.”

I yanked Jack fully behind the pillar. With a flurry of exclamations, the people noticed I was no longer behind them, and jumped up to follow Luc.

“What was that?” I whispered. Jack just shook his head. We rushed toward where I remembered seeing a side exit yesterday.

Halfway there, Stellan stepped into our path.

I almost screamed in frustration. Jack tried to dodge him, but Stellan caught my arm and pulled me behind another pillar that hid us completely from the rest of the church.

“You promise me you were telling the truth?” Stellan murmured. I yanked Jack to a stop.

“What—”

“And you'll stand behind me as the thirteenth, if we're right. Whatever we end up having to do.”

I gaped at him. Beside me, Jack did the same.

“She cries herself to sleep every night I'm not there.” Stellan squeezed my arm. “Every single night.”

I thought of the pretty little blond girl. Anya.

“And you can't say a thing about me to the Order. Make something up,” Stellan said. “Promise me.”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes!”

A shout came from the other side of the pillar. Guards. They hadn't seen us yet, but they would soon.

Stellan cursed under his breath. “I'll stall them. Second door on your left. It leads up, but all the exits on this level are locked. I'll find you later.”

“How—”

“Hurt me. Hurry. Make it look convincing or they'll know I let you go.”

Jack didn't need to be told twice. He hit Stellan with a quick right hook.

Stellan staggered back one step. “More convincing than one little punch.”

Before Jack could do any more, I held up the knife.

Stellan's eyes widened, more with appreciation than fear.

I gritted my teeth and poked the tip of the knife into Stellan's arm.

He cursed under his breath in French. “More,” he murmured.

More? I hesitated too long. Stellan took my hand and plunged the knife into his shoulder.

I cried out louder than he did, but he let go of me, and Jack and I sprinted to the second door on the left, slamming it behind us and plunging ourselves into blackness.

“Give me your shoe,” Jack said. I tore both of my heels off, shoving one blindly in his direction. In the bit of light from under the door, I saw him work it underneath like a makeshift doorstop, then gesture toward the stairs.

My eyes needed more time to adjust to the dark, but time was something we didn't have. I dashed blindly after him up the narrow, steep spiral, holding my wedding dress as high as I could. A couple of flights up I tripped anyway, and felt the wound on my thigh from the fire escape rip open. I didn't even have time to cry out before Jack was helping me up, urging me forward.

We hadn't gone more than three flights when we heard the door open with a screech and a bang. The silence exploded with echoing voices, pounding footsteps. I gasped for breath, concentrating on the lighter spot in the dark that was Jack's gray shirt ahead of me.

We finally emerged into an open space a tiny bit brighter than the stairwell, and I put my hands on my knees, panting. It smelled like wood and damp. Flower-shaped windows let in what little moonlight made its way between the clouds, and illuminated what had to be rafters.

“We're in the bell tower,” Jack said. Sure enough, there was the vague silhouette of a massive bell.

The guards' footsteps, and their shouts, came closer.

“If we're in the bell tower, that's the front of the cathedral,” Jack said, ducking us under the crisscrossing wooden beams and dragging me toward the wall of windows. “I think there's a door.”

We both felt frantically along the wall.

“Here!” Jack's exclamation was punctuated by a child-sized door thrown open to the night.

We jumped out of it into the rain and closed it as quietly as we could. I looked around in surprise. We were on the gargoyle balcony from yesterday.

“Where now?” I panted, dashing rain out of my eyes. We wouldn't have much time before they figured out where we'd gone.

He ran to the side and peered through the metal fencing. I gulped.

“There's construction scaffolding all down this side,” he said. “They'd never expect us to escape from up here.” He looked back at me. “I'll hold on to you. I'll help you. I know you're afraid of falling, but—”

I took the hand he offered. “It's okay,” I said. “I'm not scared anymore.” I realized it was true. Because I'd actually come to terms with the fear or because I'd found scarier things than heights, I wasn't sure, but I was no longer afraid of falling.

I hiked the dress up around my knees, and Jack helped me over the relative safety of the railing and onto the swaying, slippery scaffolding. I clung to him for a second, then grabbed the railing and moved.

A slim ladder led down between each level. Luckily, my dress was easier to deal with going down than up, and we flew past the cathedral's stone facade, down down down. With our footsteps and the rain pinging off the scaffolding, I couldn't hear whether the guards had made it to the balcony. The cut on my thigh, and the new one along my torso, screamed. I could hardly breathe. Finally, when I was sure I couldn't go any farther, my feet hit solid ground. We'd ended up in a courtyard of what must have been some kind of caretaker's house next to the church. I gasped for air, and we ran for the cover of a small bunch of trees.

I collapsed against the fence. “Did they see us?” I panted.

Even though we'd been on the side of the bell tower and not the front, a girl in a wedding dress scrambling down the side of NotreDame wouldn't exactly blend in. Luckily, it looked like the rain had kept most tourists away tonight, and most of the Circle inside the cathedral.