The Silver Thread (31 page)

“I would say I’m shocked, but I don’t wish to lie to you,” Finn said, trying not to smile too wide. “Talvi likes to throw money at problems, rather than avoid them to begin with. But, you know, it’s paying in spades for us.” He motioned to the mural on the ceiling and the marble walls and palm trees around the pool and hot tub. Then he leaned his shoulders back against the jets and closed his eyes, sinking so low that his chin touched the surface of the water. His wet hair weighed down his loose curls so much that his softly pointed ears stood out prominently. If it weren’t for his brown eyes, he could have passed for an older version of Talvi. They sat in peaceful silence while Annika sipped on her bloody Mary.

“I’m starting to get hungry,” she told him after finishing the last of her drink. “Do you think we could find a Moroccan place for lunch?”

“Of course, but we’ll have to order it in,” he began slowly, lifting his long, dark lashes and fixing his eyes on hers. “There’s something important I need to discuss with you. You’re not going to like it, but it really needs to be taken care of before we can go out and enjoy the city. I have so many fun outings planned for us…
after
we do this one thing.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, cautiously.

“Remember you asked if we were in any danger? Well, I don’t mean to alarm you, but it is a possibility. Do you know anything about doppelgängers?”

“Um, aren’t they like body doubles?”

Finn nodded.

“That’s why Talvi wants us to stay so close, because there have been some problems with doppelgängers trying to breach security by posing as someone they are not. We can’t have that happening to any of us, so I came up with code names. That way if we’re ever uncertain, we’ll know the truth straight away.”

“Where are they breaching security? Wherever Talvi is right now?” Annika asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is he like, a spy? Is that why he won’t tell me anything about his job?”

“He’s in mergers and acquisitions,” Finn replied, but he revealed nothing else. “Now, the names I’ve chosen are
sludoor
and
slunchitse
. You can use them whenever you like, but especially if I start acting strange or disappear and then come back a while later.”

“Can you sound them out for me again?” she asked.

“Certainly.
Sluhn…cheat…seh. Slunchitse.
And
sludoor
sounds like
sluh
, and then
doo
, and then roll the ‘r’ just a bit at the end.” She gave it a few attempts, to which he shook his head.

“Pucker your lips more when you pronounce the second syllable.”

“
Sl
uhdewr
?”

“Close, but not quite. You need to relax your mouth,” he instructed as he gently took her chin into his hand. He tapped on her bottom lip and studied her face curiously before letting go. “Stop puckering up like you just ate a lemon and soften your lips…imagine you’re about to be kissed passionately when you call me that name.”

Annika wasn’t sure if it was the vodka or his inebriating instruction that was making her feel lightheaded, but she did exactly as she was told.

“
Sludoor
?” she finally said, and he grinned softly.

“Perfect,
slun
chitse
.”

“What language is that? Is it Karsikko?”

“Why yes, Annika, it is,” he beamed. “Has Talvi been teaching you?”

“No,” she shrugged. “I guess he’s been pretty busy doing other stuff around the house. But I have plenty of time to learn, right?”

“I’ll teach you some more, if you like,” Finn offered. “You’ve already passed your first lesson with high marks. If only all my students were as determined as you.”

“
Sludoor
…” Annika repeated with a smile. “What does it mean?”

“It means sweetness, or something sweet, but it is also used as a pet name, such as when people address one another as ‘sugar’ or ‘honey’ in English.”

“What about
slun
chitse
?”

“It means ‘little sun,’” he said. “When you smile, your face lights up as bright as a star, and you’re so petite that I thought it only fitting to call you that,
slun
chitse
.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,
sludoor
. I can’t believe you thought I’d have a problem with learning new words. I mean, I hope doppelgängers don’t kidnap us either, but I feel pretty safe with a bodyguard like you around.”

Finn smiled, and then became serious once again.

“Well, here’s what I am afraid you will hate; if anyone
were
looking for you, they would be searching for a redhead in Portland, not a brunette in Paris.”

Annika was silent as what he was suggesting sunk in.

“Are you serious? Can’t I wear my new scarf?” she whined, feeling more concerned about her hair as she did about someone sinister searching for her. “I just got my hair done last month.”

“And it can be done again,” Finn said in a kind but firm tone. “I have three shades for you to choose from upstairs, but we’re not leaving this hotel until you pick one of them.”

Finn read for most of the afternoon while Annika puttered around the suite, unpacking clothes, painting her toenails, and watching a movie before taking all three hair colors and an outfit into the bathroom with her. When the hair dryer had finally shut off, Finn gave a knock on the door.

“How did it turn out? Please say you’re not upset with me.”

The door opened just a crack and he peeked in to see Annika standing at the mirror. Her fiery red hair had been transformed to a dark chocolate brown.

“I swore I would never, ever switch to another color,” she pouted, fussing with the front section of her hair. She pinned it to one side and wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe I broke my vow for veggie kebobs and couscous.”

“That will teach you to swear,” said Finn, chuckling to himself as he stepped behind her. She looked up at him in the mirror while trying to guess their difference in height.

“It’s fifty-one centimeters,” he said with a smile as he ran his long fingers up her neck and through the back of her hair, repeating the motion on each side as he watched the tresses fall through his hands. “You did a good job,
slunchitse
. It looks very natural on you. Cheers for being such a good sport. Now we can really live it up in style.”

Over the next two weeks, they skipped the touristy Champs-Élysées even though it was so close to the hotel, and visited an antique book store in the Galerie Vivienne instead. Rather than battle the crowds and flashing cameras at the Louvre or Musée d’Orsay, they opted for the Musée des Arts Forains, which housed old carousels, numerous carnival games, and rides from the past hundred years. Then there was the wax museum, and the vampire museum, and a ghost tour, which were nearly tourist-free, compared to the Arc de Triumph and Eiffel Tower. Finn had taken one look at the swarms of people and suggested a picnic near the Seine instead.

Two cafés au lait and pastries were brought to the room every morning, and they would watch the sun climb higher into the sky as they sipped their coffee in their robes and pajamas and planned out their day. When they left the hotel and stepped onto the boulevards, Finn always made a point to walk on the outside. Every time Annika found herself walking close to the curb, he would gently guide her away until he was between her and the street again. Sometimes she would make a game of it, to see if she could sneak over to his other side without him noticing, but he caught her every time.

They bypassed the famous Michelin starred restaurants and instead ducked into tiny bistros that had no names on the waiting list, but an abundance of names on the wine list. Annika quickly discovered that Finn had an insatiable sweet tooth, and it seemed he had a mission of trying every dessert in the city. So far the macaroons were winning; it was a tie between sea salt with caramel, or the orange-ginger drizzled in dark chocolate.

Paris being the international hub that it was, it was a special thrill for Annika to watch Finn interact with the people. He could ask someone for the time in Farsi, get directions to a restaurant in Hindi, and then inquire if an opera was worth seeing in Italian, all without skipping a beat. This almost always led to a longer conversation, where Annika would just smile and nod every now and then, oblivious to what was being said, but fascinated nonetheless. She did begin to notice a pattern, where the person would ask him a question, and he would smile politely and shake his head ‘no’.

“What are they asking you when you tell them no?” she asked, after he’d had a lively chat with an elderly Greek woman. “That’s like, the sixth time I’ve seen you do that.”

“They all want to know if I play basketball since I’m so tall,” he informed her with a lighthearted laugh.

He indulged her with a day of shopping for couture, and the day after that, he surprised her by taking her to a polo match to show it off. The looks they received made it clear that there were more ways to accessorize her new white Chanel sundress than with a hat, handbag, and shoes. The hot babysitter on her arm was clearly the ultimate haute couture.

Finn definitely fit in with the polo crowd in his white blazer and tie, but he seemed oblivious to the looks he was getting from other spectators. All he cared about was if Annika was enjoying herself or not, and while they sipped on white wine and watched the ponies run up and down the field, he explained the rules of the game to her. He told her how he used to play with the twins, Asbjorn, and his cousins, but that a bad fall had persuaded him to retire indefinitely.

“Lots of people get back in the saddle after a fall. How bad could it have been?” she asked innocently, adjusting her sunglasses. “You seem just fine to me.”

“Well, for starters, all of these polo ponies that you’re looking at are fairly lightweight. Back home, we prefer our horses to be considerably larger, so they can work the land and travel long distances. Not to mention, a fellow like me would look ridiculous on a tiny little Arabian. But heavy horses fall harder. Also, as I mentioned earlier, one of the rules in polo is that it must be played right-handed, for safety. Since Talvi favors his left, he would constantly switch hands in order to score more points. You know how competitive he can be. The others let his blatant cheating slide, but I was always quick to call him on it. It’s a dangerous sport, after all, and they have that rule for a reason. It was only a matter of time before an accident happened, though I honestly thought it would have happened sooner.”

Finn paused to cheer as the team he was rooting for made a goal, and then went on.

“Talvi and I were neck and neck at a full gallop. I had control of the ball, and he was trying to steal it away. I remember him leaning over with his mallet, in his left hand, of course. I was yelling at him to stop cheating, and then our mallets caught on one another, which my mare tripped on. I went over her head and was knocked unconscious when I hit the ground, and then she landed on my back, breaking it in three places,” he said casually as half time was called.

“When she tripped, she had broken her neck and was dead by the time she fell on me, out in the middle of the field. It was truly a freak accident…usually the horses are able to get right up after falling down. I was nearly smothered to death due to her full weight upon me. I also had a punctured lung full of blood that didn’t make it any easier. When the others pulled her body off of me, they all thought I was dead. I had quite a few broken ribs, and even with our heightened healing abilities, I still needed multiple surgeries to put me back together. I had to learn how to walk all over again.” He paused to take a generous drink of wine, holding it in his mouth momentarily before he swallowed and continued his story. “To this day, whenever the weather shifts, or if I stay in one position for too long, I usually have a fair amount of discomfort, but it’s nothing in comparison to the first few years of torture I went through.”

“Oh my god, Finn! That’s
terrible
!” she gasped, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. She had thought maybe he’d broken and arm or a leg, not been totally crushed by a horse falling on him at top speed. His account had her reeling in sympathy for what he had been through. “No wonder you don’t play anymore! I’m sure Talvi felt absolutely horrible about it!”

“Oh, he did,” Finn nodded, smiling faintly. “He felt so guilty that he was more than willing to steal me extra doses of laudanum from the medicine cabinet. He refilled the empty bottles with maple syrup so our parents wouldn’t notice that it was all gone. But that ran out quickly, and I eventually sent him farther and farther beyond our village apothecary to keep up with my demands. Then one day he came back with a new medicine called morphine, and…well, that’s not a story that needs to be told.” He flagged down a waiter for another glass of wine as he finished his previous one. “Let’s stomp some divots back into place, shall we?” he suggested, offering his free hand and leading her out to the field with the other spectators. “This is about as involved as I care to be with polo these days.”

Perhaps the most memorable outing was their visit to the catacombs, which resulted in Finn ducking down most of the time to avoid smacking his head on the low ceilings. When he wasn’t hunched over, he was rattling off information almost nonstop.

“I still don’t understand why you would put so many bodies in one spot,” Annika said. “This is really neat, but really gross too. Why didn’t anyone think of cremation?”

“Because in the year four hundred ninety-six, Clovis, the founder of France, converted from paganism to Catholicism. In order to promote conversion throughout the rest of the country, Clovis and the Catholic church began to ban the traditions of the ancient Romans, who were pagans. One of these traditions was cremation of the dead, which made the most sense to the pagans since they didn’t believe in an afterlife. Of course, this is contradictory to Catholic belief, thus cremation was banned for centuries. I believe the ban was only lifted by the Vatican in the nineteen sixties, and even then, the circumstances necessitating it must be dire, and the ashes must still be buried. Watch out for that femur on your left.”

Annika looked down just in time to avoid walking into the leg bone jutting out from the stone wall, and stepped into a cold puddle of water instead. She was quickly beginning to regret wearing open-toed sandals in this musty, dripping, endless underground maze.

“By the twelfth century, churchyard cemeteries had become terribly overcrowded,” he chatted on as they walked further along the dim tunnels. “To deal with the sheer number of human remains, cemeteries began to create mass graves for those who couldn’t afford the price of burial in the churchyard. There were areas where the fresher bodies were placed before they had decomposed enough to be relocated elsewhere. As you can imagine, this contaminated the city’s well water, and for a long time, more people died of disease than were born. Bubonic plague ran rampant, since it was carried by the fleas that lived on the rats that were growing fat on this readily available food source.”

“Wow, I’m getting hungry just thinking about an all-you-can-eat buffet like that,” said Annika. They had come to yet another large room embedded with hundreds of skulls. Finn stood up straight and glanced at her.

“I didn’t think to bring anything to eat whilst we were down here,” he said, cracking his back and then his neck.

“I was joking.”

“We can turn around if you’re feeling peckish. I don’t mind. I’ve been here before.”

“Oh have you? I wasn’t sure,” said Annika, laughing to herself. She decided that she had met her lifetime quota of viewing human skulls
en masse
, and agreed to start heading back. “So you might as well tell me, how did Paris bounce back from having a negative population growth?”

“Well, the city was in the midst of a renaissance by the eighteenth century, and city officials needed a new plan to accommodate all the overflowing cemeteries and mass graves,” he said, happy to continue the history lesson. “There were all these abandoned stone quarries on the edge of the city’s epicenter, and so began the process of exhuming ten centuries’ worth of bodies from over two-hundred cemeteries, and placing them in the quarries, which is where we are standing today. That’s why there aren’t many tall buildings in Paris, because the foundations can’t be built large enough to support them. There are so many old mine shafts down here that they would likely collapse if someone were to build—”

“Eww, I just stepped in another puddle, and this one smells worse that all the other ones,” Annika complained, trying not to think about their odds of a cave-in. She lifted her sandal out of the brown water and kicked a clump of pale, chalky mud from the side of it. “Where’s all this water coming from, anyway? I keep getting dripped on.”

“It’s condensation dripping from above,” Finn informed her, matter-of-factly. “And probably a little sewage. The Parisian underground is a structural nightmare. Then you have to consider there are over six million bodies decomposing all around and above us. When it rains or becomes very humid, the moisture from these sources comes trickling down, forming all these puddles. Some of them are fairly shallow, but some are quite—”