Brass and Bone (8 page)

I turned and could not help but admire the effect of his white suit on his long frame. “
Et tu aussi
,
monsieur
.”

Simon bowed over my hand then tucked it in the crook of his arm; we made our way into the night air.

“Thank you for coming with me, Simon.”

His free hand pressed against his chest and he laughed. “Well, when I received your invitation for this evening, I knew I had to come along. An obligation, if you will, to ensure your safety.

“Obligation?” I laughed out loud. “Then I understand your participation had nothing to do with an opportunity to show off your wonderful costume?”

“Oh, not at all.” Simon smiled down at me. “But I do thank you for it.”

His tone was jovial but before I could pursue my teasing of him, the noise in the streets began in earnest. Music from the orchestra set up on the square floated toward the sea as the patrons surrounding us were shouting and drinking in earnest. Simon twirled me around once on the street, and we were swept up in the madness of the night.

Wines of every kind were forced upon us, and we took them all too readily. Even in the glow of the gas lamps, I could tell when the spirits began to go to Simon’s head. His accent became stronger, more slurred, while his cheeks flushed beneath his mask. I will admit, I was enjoying the wines too much, and his company even more. I began to stumble with others worse in their drink than I.

I tightened my grip on Simon’s, but only to keep myself upright, that was true. Strangely, though, an apprehension began to fill me as the night wore on. I felt as if something heavy had been placed upon my shoulders, or as if my corset were squeezing the very air from my lungs. Several hours had passed since we had first begun to mingle and dance in the streets, when at last my fear became so strong I had to swallow back a scream.

Fortunately, drunk though he was, Simon took notice of my distress. He pushed us through those much worse than ourselves until we came upon an empty promenade overlooking the sea. With a gentle touch he helped me onto a stone bench closest to the sea wall. I smiled my thanks, taking a sip of the wine in my hand, before he sat down beside me.

“I must be honest with you, Simon. There is more than one reason I asked you to come with me tonight,” I began with some care.

He chuckled, taking another sip from the glass in his hand before turning to me. “Ah, the ulterior motive. And here I was certain it was because we enjoy each other’s company so.”

I couldn’t help myself; I laughed at him. His hideously green silk top hat sat askew on his head, and the top knot of his necktie was loose. Even in the shifting light around us I could see the humor in his eyes through his mask. I reached up, brushed his cheek with my finger and smiled as the blush bloomed upon it.

“Has anyone told you how extraordinary your eyes are,
mon ami
?”

Often my words slipped out before I could hold them back, and this time was no exception. I noted how the flush on his skin seemed to darken and how quick he was to seize my hand before I could pull it away. Simon leaned closer, and my breath caught against the back of my throat as those golden eyes examined me.

“The same could be said about your own, mademoiselle. Tell me, Cynara, are you truly a witch? I simply cannot believe it.”

I sipped the ruby liquid in my own glass, tilting my head as I considered the question. Yet such considerations escaped me. My mind had become shifty. Fuzzy.

Instead, I responded with a giggle. “I am. Truly.”

“Then tell me of your history. Nothing about your dastardly Henri, mind you, for I do not care for him. Tell me everything else.”

Perhaps it was the wine that broke down my barriers. Or perhaps it was the kindness radiating off Simon, still with my free hand in his. In either case, I drained my glass and began: “I was not born into wealth,
mon ami
. My parents were both servants on an estate outside of Paris.” I felt my memories take me; it was almost as if I were a child again. “It was a good life then. I was loved and well cared for. But life changes. It shifts when you least expect it. I was ten when my parents were sent away, and I with them.”

I shuddered as the pain, so frequent in my nightmares, resurfaced. Indeed, I feared the truth of my words was tainted by those same dreams as I told him of my childhood and of how my parents were arrested for crimes they did not commit. His hand tightened around my own as I described their deaths.

“I had heard they were scheduled to die in the town’s center. It was the first time I had ever laid eyes upon a guillotine. I was a child—alone, afraid. My world had been ripped away from me on the day of their arrests, and I was determined to follow them whatever happened. I saw them, bound, jeered at by the crowd…and I ran up the steps of the platform. A guard threw me back with the threat I would be next if I failed to behave.” I paused. “The blade fell twice, and I was an orphan.”

Simon had grown pale now, the flush gone from his face.

I shivered against the winds picking up around us before I continued. “I spent the next four years on the streets of Paris. I survived as any urchin would. I begged from those who would take pity on me. Slept in the unattended basements of shops. As I grew older, my beauty became more pronounced, as did my talent for picking pockets. Stealing became easier. That is how I met my benefactor.” I could not help but smile at the memory. “Monsieur le Comte caught me as I tried to charm him away from his wallet, and took me home with him. He was a good man, Simon. Very good. He taught me how to become a lady. How to be who I am today. He…he perished some two years ago, and I have not been the same since.”

“This comte, he was Henri’s uncle?”

I nodded. “Actually, Henri’s mother’s uncle. The comte, he never married, never had any children, at least to my knowledge. And truly, I was surprised he continued to take care of me so well. That day he caught me with my hand in his pocket, he could have beaten me for my thievery and turned me over to the
gendarmes
, and be right in doing so. Instead he saved me.”

I pulled my hand from Simon’s grasp and stood up, moving shakily away from the bench to lean against the waist-high stone wall protecting us from the drop to the sea below. Simon stayed where he was for only a moment before joining me.

“I have told my
histoire
and bared my soul,” I said as cheerfully as my dark memories would allow, “so do tell me about your own. You did promise to share your history with Lady Abigail, did you not?”

I smiled up at him from my spot on the balcony wall. Simon had opened his mouth to reply when his response was cut off, suddenly, by a strange shifting of the ground beneath us. Another, and yet another movement, as though the very earth itself had paused its journey then started up again with a stuttering motion.

For an instant there was nothing but heavy silence in the air. Then screams and the crashing of bricks and stones replaced the silence.

Again the earth moved beneath me. My balance deserted me, and I gasped as I fell against my companion. My dearest friend, dare I say my only friend, was quicker to recover than I. Simon grabbed me and held me tight; we huddled against what little protection the low wall could offer.

“Earthquake!” Simon shouted, but it was hard to hear him as the shaking grew ever worse.

I clung to him and a thought came unbidden.
He’s protecting me. Just as Jean-Pierre would do, did do, for so long…

I lost myself to the image of the beloved face, the beloved name calming me through my fear.

I grabbed the lapels of Simon’s coat and forced a kiss upon him with a passion that I had shared with no other since Comte Jean-Pierre des Jardin’s death almost two years before. To my surprise Simon returned my kiss with an enthusiasm I had not expected. I knew he loved his Lady Abigail. I knew I should resist both my desires and his own. But it felt so good to be wrapped in his strong arms, his tender mouth pressed gently yet eagerly against mine. I tasted the wine we had both drunk, smelled the faint odor of clean linen and warm maleness, and I was lost.

At once, as if from nowhere, I found myself enthralled, delirious, mesmerized by the strange feeling of Simon’s warm body against me, reveling in the softness of his lips. He was tender. Slow. As he tightened his grip on my waist, I fought back the desire rushing through me. It was wrong. Dangerous.

And absolutely delicious.

And so, during that most unexpected of embraces, the world roared in its destruction and pulled us down with it into darkness and utter despair.

***

I hissed in Simon’s ear. “Simon, by all the gods above, stay still! Silence, I beg!”

His eyelids began to flutter, and relief to see him alive filled me with joy.

When I had awakened I found we were not in the damaged streets of my last memory, but chained to a wall in a dank stone room smelling of decay. A man with a scarred face leered in at me through a grating in the heavy door; he disappeared before I could interrogate him.

Simon was sprawled unconscious in a pile of damp hay. He must have broken one leg and perhaps the other. As to whether this had happened in the earthquake or since, I had no way of knowing. At once, I used my powers to knit Simon’s bones back together and though they had healed before I dared try to wake him, I knew he must still be quite weak.

I rattled my chains and blessed the Lady I had been near enough to touch him and cure him.

Another poor soul, whimpering softly though he did not speak, was not so lucky as I; he was chained in the dark corner farthest from us. Though I felt pity for him, there was nothing I could do. Perhaps when we found a way out of this place we could take him with us. But at this moment, my focus was only on our escape.

Simon, poor boy, could be little or no help at all, at least for a time.

“What did you say, madame?” A man’s coarse voice echoed through the room.

I looked up to see the guard had returned to watch, and this time he had a companion. From what I could gather through their improper and broken Italian, we had been snatched from the earthquake’s rubble by bandits who were intent on picking the bodies clean of their riches as they had relieved us of ours. As soon as I’d recovered my senses, I had realized my jewels were gone, and Simon’s valuables as well. But since we were alive, it seemed they believed we could perhaps be ransomed.

“Nothing more than a prayer, monsieur.” I stood and wiped my hands in vain against my filthy skirt. “This man is in need of a doctor. He will die if he does not see one soon. And I can assure you your master will not receive any payment for the dead.”

“Oh, but she deceives you!” The man who shared our plight cackled in his madness, shaking the chains holding him in the shadows. “A devil’s woman, she is! Healed that man. His bones were broken, and now they are whole! Magic. I have seen it!”

The guard opened the cage door and made his careful way across the uneven floor. I winced as he delivered a sharp kick to Simon’s ribs. My companion had been silent until that moment, but now he groaned and let loose a string of curses. Simon rolled over on his side, gasping for breath, and glared at the man before turning his focus to me. The same relief I had felt before appeared in his face. He struggled to rise but fell back flat against his pile of straw.

“Lies!” I shouted.

The guard whirled in my direction, and I turned my head away as he raised his fist in my direction. But the blow I expected never came. I faced him once more and saw his wrist in Simon’s grasp.

“I wouldn’t do that, sir,” Simon said, his voice as light as if he were asking the time. “I would see your actions as a grave insult and be forced to act.”

“Release him.” Another man, just as ragged as the guard, stood at the open door with a pistol aimed directly at Simon’s head. “Now.”

Simon dropped the man’s arm and moved to stand by my side, his own chains rattling. I could see he was full of questions, but I couldn’t answer them. Not now. I took his hand, squeezing it once to beg his patience. The guard retreated toward his companion, his rapid speech detailing the events. The man continued to aim his weapon at us, but his expression became more interested.

“A healer, is she? Indeed. We’ll take her to the
padrone
. He will tell us what to do.” The bandit grinned as he gestured to me with his weapon. “Come with us, my lovely.”

“This is most irregular, gentlemen,” Simon began.

The guard faced my friend. I held my breath as I watched him strike fiercely out at Simon, knocking him to the rough floor.

“Stop, I pray you!” I shouted. “I will accompany you willingly. Give me only a moment,
s’il vous plait
, and I will join you.” I knelt next to Simon. “I will negotiate our release,
mon ange
, do not fear. Only trust me.”

It was all I could manage before the brute in the cell grabbed my arms and shoved me into the rough grasp of the second bandit who waited with impatience.

I followed them quietly, though I examined with interest their crude weapons. Each of them had long knives. But the second bandit carried a gun such as I had never seen before. And it rested loosely in his belt.

If only I can get my hands on it…

I stopped when one pushed open a door hanging crooked on its hinges. It opened with a despairing creak. Three men were in the small room, one far bigger and somewhat older than the others; his head was covered with a mop of white curls. All sat at a table filled with what could only be the spoils stolen from the victims of the earthquake. On top lay my emerald necklace, its chain twisted amidst other trinkets that dulled in comparison. I resisted the urge to reach out and snatch it as my guards began to explain why they had brought me, each tripping over the other’s words in their desire to speak. I tore my gaze away when the man sitting between them raised his hand.

Silence fell.

“What is the meaning of this,
fratello mio
?” asked the white-haired man. “I would have sent for the woman if I were in need of her. Take her back to her cell.”