The Aetherfae (28 page)

TWENTY-NINE

FONTAINEBLEAU

H
alfway down the block, a hundred yards from the police, people jammed the sidewalks gawking and muttering to one another. I thought about scurrying through a restaurant and trying to get out the back door, but there were too many people inside. In the next building, a clothing store, the workers were locking the doors. There were people darting back and forth across the street beyond a hastily erected barricade. Since it wasn’t possible to go through the crowd, I did the next best thing—I went over. In a cushion of Air, I lifted off the ground and spun twice over the top of the frightened throng. My Clóca barrier slipped and for a moment my feet were exposed, but nobody seemed to notice. They were busing looking forward rather than up.

Fifty yards past the onlookers, I set down on the sidewalk and began sprinting with Clóca at full power. Dancing left and then right, I dodged a few pedestrians making their way toward the ruckus. Several emotions fought for my attention. Fear was the first. It wouldn’t take long for the Rogues to figure out where I was—they probably already knew and were converging en masse. It didn’t scare me for my own safety. It scared me for everyone else’s. If the Fae were willing to destroy the east coast of America to get rid of my distant kin, what would they do to tiny Fontainebleau?

My stomach knotted and I felt perspiration pouring down my forehead and back. Clóca didn’t come with air conditioning, and for the most part it blocked any breeze that might be blowing through the medieval streets. It wasn’t just the heat making me sweat, however. I needed to find Bastien, which was a challenge in its own right, but how could I hope to find him while I was cloaked? It seemed impossible. Not only did I need to find a Fae who had avoided other Fae for thousands of years, but if I risked being seen, the mob scene would surely repeat itself—and next time I knew they would have company.

As I made my way to the walls of the chateau, I watched my gray Mercedes roll by on the back of a tow truck.
Well great, I’ve lost another car. At least I have my bag, for all the good it will do me.
Despite everything else going on, the bigger problem seemed to be an exit strategy. How in the world did I hope to get back to Kobold territory without being recognized? “I won’t be safe there, either. I’m probably on CNN already.” World fugitive—the Rogues had played it brilliantly. That realization filled me with another emotion—anger.

“Those conniving, plotting, filthy
…
”
Oh shut it, you dolt.

I slid through a wrought iron gate and into a long alley of equally spaced trees. In front of me, there were people meandering down the shady lane, so I walked left and into an open lawn area. To my right and just beyond a hundred or two hundred perfectly trimmed trees—even the tops were pruned to be the same height—was the massive blond stone building I’d seen from the car. Enormous. Regal. Opulent. If not for the fact I needed to hide from Fae and human alike, I would have asked a guide what it had been used for. Surely someone named
Louis
built it. But I had no time.

In a shady spot with no people around, I sat against a tree and spread my senses. Finding no Fae around, I dropped the cloak so that Bastien could find me—if he was close. My mind reached out to the edge of my range, but I sensed no Fae.

“Bastien, please, I need you. If you’re here, please reveal yourself to me.”

A bird whistled a song in the distance. A car horn sounded a little further off, and as a backdrop to it all, sirens sounded in the city—undoubtedly looking for me. There was nothing else, so I hid myself and walked closer to the Chateau. Past a large reflecting pool, I made my way to the rows of neatly trimmed trees and turned left. I walked for several minutes, but still hadn’t made it past the end of the building. Through the openings in the thick canopy, dormer windows reflected the deep blue sky. They also unnerved me. Somebody could be standing behind the reflections ready to sound the alarm if the River Seine Terrorist popped out of thin air.

Past another iron fence, I found a cobbled courtyard in the shadow of one wing of the structure. I hurried to an arched recess that led through the first floor and to a courtyard on the other side. The building just kept going. Across the courtyard I went, toward another archway, yet another courtyard, and unbelievably, even more Chateau.

Hidden in the shadow of the second Archway, I checked both sides to make sure there were no people milling about. The area was clear and, at least to the naked eye, there were no cameras either. I dropped the Clóca and called for Bastien. There were no Fae, but I was not alone. Before I could cloak, an attractive young brown-haired man walked into the archway from the building.

He spoke in French and didn’t appear afraid of me. He smiled in fact.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.”

With a thick French accent, he said, “Oh, American.”

Despite his smile, it sounded like an indictment.

“Yes. I’m Ma…Mary.” At the last second, I thought better of using my real name.

He grinned at my stutter. “I am pleased to meet you Ma Mary.”

Okay, I didn’t like him.

“I am Louis.”

Of course you are.
“Are you from here?”

“No, I am not…” He feigned disappointment.

“That’s too bad. I need directions to someplace close.”

He smiled revealing a gap between his front teeth. “Oh? What is it you are looking for? I am not from here, as I said, but I do work here.”

I wanted to blow him into the wall, but instead I laughed like I was amused by his wit. “I’ve been told that there are some ancient carved boulders in the area. I’d like to see them before I leave France—Archaeology is a hobby of mine.”

“Carved boulders…” He shook his head. “I do not know of these. There are many boulders in the forest. Perhaps what you are looking for is there?”

“Perhaps. Do you have a suggestion where I can begin my search?”

He flattened his lips into a thin line and, after a pause, reached into his jacket and retrieved a brochure. Twirling a pen in his fingers, he pointed at a map.

“If you go here, Mary,” he said, before pulling the brochure to his hand and marking on it. “And you’ll want to go here.”

“Thank you,” I said reaching for the paper.

He flicked it just out of my reach. “I could come with you, yes?”

Before he could move the map again, I snatched it out of his hand. “Tempting, but I couldn’t impose.”

He lifted his eyebrows and leaned against the stone archway. “It is no imposition. It would be my pleasure to show such a beautiful…”

Louis gasped when I disappeared. It probably wasn’t a smart move on my part, but I would have thrown up had I listened to any more. Before he drew a second breath, I was sprinting across a cobbled pathway the opposite direction I’d come. The gate at the street was locked, so I went left and passed through another arch near the end of the chateau. Beyond it, I followed a path along the edge of the property with thick vegetation on one side and intermittent open areas of lawn on the other. Twice I dropped the cloak and called to Bastien. Neither time did I get a response.

Like the sear of rubbing alcohol poured over a fresh cut, my senses screamed to life as a Fae moved in from the west. Under Clóca, I continued to move south, anger growing in my chest with each step. Not only had they murdered people I cared about, and millions of people I didn’t know, they’d set me up. The feeling festered, but before I worked myself into a frenzy, I sensed two more move in from the south.
They’re circling the city—they’re going to try to catch me inside.

At least I hoped that was their plan. I realized they could do much worse if they wanted. My imagination flashed images of explosions leveling parts of the city in my mind. After being spotted there, I would undoubtedly get blamed for that, too. The nagging sensation of being watched returned. I tried to write it off as nerves, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ozara had made her way to France. Nerves forced me to quicken my pace down the path where I found another locked gate. It was near the edge of the city and there were no good places to hide.
If I jump the gate, they may sense
me
.

The Fae took physical form—I could tell that much. I also knew they were about to start moving toward me. Instinctively, I ran away from them, back toward the Chateau. The word
hide
kept running through my mind. I had remembered seeing a small lake toward the center of the grounds. I burst through a cluster of shrubs at the end of a tree-lined corridor and saw the lake, actually more of a pond, directly in front of me.

Scanning the shore, I searched for a place to hide. There were trees around the edge closest to me, but each was several feet from the waterline. The well-trimmed lawn along the shore offered no cover, but there was small stone gazebo in the center of the water on a small island. As the Fae began their methodical advance, I slowly eased in past my waist, then my shoulders. The green water stank of fish and rot, but I had no choice except to continue toward the island. I only had a few minutes before they would get close enough to lay eyes on the pond, so I tied my bag around my waist and swam for it. It had been weeks since I’d been in the water, but I hit my stride within a few strokes. Fifty feet from shore, I noticed a problem. At the far end, some eight hundred feet, there was a stone balustrade, and beyond the trees, part of the palace with windows overlooking the water.
Crap.
I didn’t see anyone watching me, so I switched from Clóca to the energy from
Water
and used it both to conceal my presence and propel me through the warm lake. My heart beat hard against my sternum, and I felt exposed as waves spread out over the mirror surface. I was visible and leaving a wake.
This is a stupid idea
.

The island was actually a manmade stone pedestal in the center of the triangular pond. As I drew closer, stroke-by-stroke, I formulated a plan. The instant my fingers made contact, I connected with the stone and made an opening in the wall to wiggle through. Before I closed the stone around me, I slowly changed the energy barrier from Water to Earth. Inside the self-made sarcophagus, the air rushing in and out of my lungs filled my ears with noise.
Slow your breathing—god, I’m out of shape.

My heart rate began to slow until I sensed a fifth Fae beyond the other four. Then I felt a sixth. As they closed in, moving no faster than a casual walk, more came within my range. I had to stay calm. I had to focus on my breathing.

Dersha’s voice pierced the stone barrier as she directed the search, “
Check everything. She is here
.” The hunters used raw energy—Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water—to probe every inch of Fontainebleau, undoubtedly groping for contact with Clóca. They were moving so slowly. When Chalen’s presence entered my senses, the beating sound of my heart grew faster. Blood rushed past my ears. He advanced to my east from two miles away. They moved closer and after ten minutes, they were only a mile away.
Focus. Focus.

My mind raced to come up with a plan. When they reached the center of town, I’d make my way back to shore.
Then what?
That was the big question.
Then you slip back to the gate and get out of this place—find a car or something, and go to that place Louis circled on the map.
When, five agonizing minutes later, they got within half a mile, it took all my concentration to remain calm. They searched more slowly than they did at Veluwezoon, more methodically, and I wondered whether my hiding place would be good enough. One Fae, a male I’d sensed before, passed closest to me. Who was he?
Try to remember.
From somewhere in the recesses of my mind, the name Markus came to me. He was one of the four who’d held Mitch captive. His scarred face flashed into my mind’s eye—cloudy white eyes, greasy red shoulder-length hair, angled, protruding cheekbones. A year ago, with sadistic pleasure resonating in his voice, he had offered to take one of Mitch’s fingers to the Seelie Council as proof my brother was still alive.
Stay calm. Don’t do anything stupid
. I memorized each movement Markus made as he drew closer. If he changed anything about what he was doing, I’d come out fighting.

The dampness of my clothes and the lack of sunlight left my teeth chattering. A thousand feet away, Markus crept through the trees and manicured spaces inside the chateau walls, pausing every few steps, pushing his mind out in all directions. Seven hundred feet away and the sensation of being watched grew even stronger, almost like someone was in the dark, dank cubbyhole with me. I bit down on my lower lip to keep my teeth apart, and pulled in a slow breath. As quietly as I could, I released it and repeated the process. My skin tingled.