Quest for the Secret Keeper (16 page)

“My heart?”

She nodded. “It will help you determine the answer if you ask it. Who must we get to first?”

Ian closed his eyes and remembered what Theo had told him just a few months before. She’d said that when he found himself with a difficult decision to make, he should simply close his eyes, focus on the question, and feel the answer come to him around his middle. “You’ll know with your belly button,” she’d said with a giggle. “The right way will feel light and ticklish around your middle.”

Using her technique, Ian was surprised by what his middle was telling him. “Océanne,” he said firmly, and opened his eyes. “We must find her and Madame Lafitte first.”

Adria offered him a small smile. “This way, then,” she said, heading in the direction of the pulsing shadow.

They set off in what Ian thought was the general
direction from which they’d come. It was nearly impossible to tell, because the air was thick with dark smoke, obscuring the horizon and making it difficult to decipher which way was which.

Carl and Ian followed close behind Adria.

Along the way, and to distract himself from the terrible sights all around, Ian revealed to Adria that they’d had a close encounter with the two sorceresses Caphiera and Atroposa at the hotel when they’d first arrived in Paris. “There’s a woman with them who seems to be able to track the sundial when it’s pointing at something,” Ian said nervously.

“A woman?” Adria asked.

“They called her a witch,” Carl said helpfully. “But I think she might be a seer, like Theo. She can sense when we’ve employed the sundial.”

Adria looked sharply at Ian, as if to ask him why he’d done such a foolish thing in light of the witch’s ability.

“It was an accident,” Ian said, feeling foolish.

Adria didn’t comment; she merely quickened her pace, ignoring the pleas for help, which seemed to come from everywhere. The cries from those in the streets and trapped in the rubble pulled hard at Ian, and judging by Carl’s expression, they wore on him too. At one point, Carl asked Adria how she could stand to ignore the suffering all around her. “I have seen far worse,” she said simply. “Adrastus and I have traveled through the portal time and time again, and always there is suffering and death. It is what feeds the underworld god, after all.”

“Is he responsible for all of this, then?” Carl asked her, waving his hand at the destruction all around.

“You mean the war with the Germans?” she asked. Carl nodded. “No,” she told him with a sad smile. “Man is responsible for his own suffering. But there is a far greater cost than just human lives, which is something these men like Adolf Hitler never consider. Demogorgon has been waiting and watching while we humans have spread our seed and now blanket the earth. He has known that eventually, there would be so many people that an evil, power-hungry ruler like this German Führer would start a global war, one in which there was so much death and misery and destruction that Demogorgon’s power would reach new heights. If enough misery and death is created, then the god down below may indeed break free from the underworld, and as long as Magus, Caphiera, Atroposa, and Lachestia are here to assist him, there is nothing any of us can do to stop it. Well, except for you and the others, of course.”

“But how are we to stop him, exactly?” Ian asked.

Adria looked at him sideways. “Collect the seven Oracles of the United, Ian, and the way will be made clear to you.”

“But what if we fail?” Ian pressed. “What if we can’t find all seven?”

Adria stopped and looked at him directly. “Then every man, woman, and child on this earth is doomed.”

Carl made a face. “Glad to know we’re not under any pressure,” he muttered.

Adria ignored him and pointed to a large building with only minor damage across the street. “Your dial’s shadow points to there, Ian, correct?”

Ian glanced down at the dial, then up again, and a wave of relief washed over him. “They’re in there,” he said.

Without discussing their quest any further, Ian trudged through the debris-covered street to the front door of the building. He raised his hand to push open the door when a strong force shoved into him and a yelp sounded from behind.

“Quickly!” Adria’s hushed voice said into his ear. Ian realized their companion had pushed both him and Carl through the main door and was at that moment moving them as fast as possible down the hallway.

“My neck!” Carl protested, and Adria hissed at him.

“Shhh! Say not another word!”

Ian obediently allowed himself to be propelled through the front foyer and down the first-story hallway all the way to the back. They stopped in front of the door to a flat. Adria let go of Ian and Carl, turned the handle, which opened with ease, and pulled them both into the flat. No sooner had she gained them passage and shut the door behind them than she held out her hand and demanded that Ian give her the sundial.

Reluctant to let it go, Ian hesitated.

“Quickly!” Adria insisted.

Ian gave her the dial and Adria held it in her hands, closing her eyes and whispering to it. A moment later she opened her hands and the dial was blank and tarnished
again. Adria sighed in relief. “Tuck that away,” she said, handing the relic back to Ian and still speaking softly. “And do not ask it to find
anything
, do you understand?”

“What’s going on?” Carl asked impatiently.

Adria turned toward the door and stared out the peephole. “There is evil afoot,” she told them. “The sorceresses are near.”

Ian felt his blood go cold. “How do you know?”

Adria moved away from the door. “I know,” she told him. For emphasis she pointed to the back of the flat and crooked her finger as if to suggest they follow her. Ian and Carl did, and she led them through the parlor to the kitchen area. Above the sink was a window overlooking the garden, and out in the yard Ian saw dust and pieces of debris being tossed about—as if a sudden wind had blown in and was causing great chaos. Even the trees were swaying to and fro.

If that weren’t eerie enough, ice crystals began to form at the edges of the window, and when Ian placed his finger on the pane, he could feel the cold seeping in.

“Where are they?” he whispered, trying hard not to tremble.

Adria was watching the yard intently. “Near,” she whispered back. “Very near.”

She then pointed them back the way they’d come and the three of them huddled in a corner of the flat, waiting with bated breath. At one point Ian distinctly heard the sound of metal heels clicking on the tile floor out in the hallway. He remembered the steel-tipped boots Caphiera
had worn when she’d trapped them in the portal tunnel two years previous, and he shivered anew.

Minutes ticked by and Ian and Carl both watched Adria, waiting for her to let go her tense posture and alert them that the sorceresses had gone, but for a very, very long time, Laodamia’s attendant held perfectly still.

Ian hoped that if he was correct and Océanne was in the building, she would remain safe inside and not attempt to come out, lest she encounter one of the dreaded sorceresses. He tried not to think about what Caphiera had done to another boy from their orphanage two years previous when he’d had the great misfortune to stare directly into her eyes and been turned to solid ice.

Finally, as the light in the room began to dim, Adria got to her feet and motioned for the two of them to follow.

As they stepped out into the hallway, they saw some wary figures coming up the main stairs. It seemed the building’s occupants had been hiding in the basement until it was clear the air raid had passed.

Ian moved ahead of Carl and Adria, anxious to watch the grim-faced Parisians hurry up to their flats. He couldn’t say with certainty that he believed they were in the right building for the Lafittes, but his heart pounded with anticipation all the same as one by one the residents shuffled up the steps. And then, as one older gentleman stepped aside, Ian saw her. Océanne. She looked weary and pale and frightened, but still as lovely as Ian had remembered her. Her chin lifted in his direction and her expression changed to one of amazement.

Ian closed the distance to her. “Hello, Océanne,” he said shyly, thinking that she had grown even more beautiful in the year since he’d last seen her.

“Ian Wigby?”
she gasped.

“We’ve come to rescue you,” he said before he realized how silly that must sound. In the next moment he had the most horrific thought about how terrible he must look, covered in soot and grime and dirt from head to toe.

Océanne, however, was still staring at him in disbelief. “Is Carl with you?” she finally asked, and Ian felt his heart sag a bit.

“Hello,” Carl said, walking down the hall to join Ian.

Océanne took one look at Carl before flinging herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. “Carl!” she cried. “Oh, Carl!”

Ian stepped back, his shoulders slumping and the joy of seeing her evaporating. He happened to catch Adria’s eye then, and there was such sympathy in the way she looked at him that Ian felt embarrassed and ashamed.

“Océanne?” they all heard from just down the stairs. And then Madame Lafitte crested the landing and gasped. “Good heavens! Whatever are you two doing here?”

Carl was patting Océanne on the back awkwardly. The girl was still clinging to him as if he were a life vest and she were out to sea. “We’ve come from England, ma’am,” he said. “The earl brought us here to search for you. Your husband sent a note begging for our assistance.”

Océanne let go of Carl abruptly. “Papa?” she asked. “But where is he?”

Carl and Ian exchanged looks. Clearly Océanne did not know that her father had likely been murdered. “Detained,” Ian said after a moment.

Madame Lafitte studied him carefully. “By whom?” she asked pointedly.

“Madame,” said Adria, coming to their rescue. “I fear that we have much to explain, but first I must alert you that we are in terrible danger at present and must make haste to leave this building at once.”

Both Madame Lafitte’s and Océanne’s expressions turned fearful. “Will there be another air raid?” Océanne asked timidly.

“Perhaps,” said Adria. “But there is even more danger afoot. How quickly can you pack a few belongings and be ready to travel?”

Madame Lafitte looked quite taken aback. “I shall go nowhere without my husband,” she said. “Leo insisted we wait here for his return, and with Paris now in ruins, I’ll not have him come here to find us gone and assume the very worst!”

“We’ll send word,” Ian said quickly. “Madame, we’ve come here with the earl himself. Your husband, Monsieur Lafitte, begged the earl to find you and take you back to England where he knew you’d be safe. He can’t get back to Paris at present, you see, and he’s terribly worried about your well-being.”

Madame Lafitte eyed Ian for several long moments, her hands wringing together nervously. Finally, she seemed to relent. “Very well, Ian. Let us get our things together. We
haven’t been upstairs since the bombs began. Is it dreadful outside?”

“Yes,” Adria told her honestly. “You should bring some sensible clothing and good shoes, Madame. The way back is littered and treacherous.”

Océanne’s mother took her by the hand and they moved to the staircase. Ian and Carl waited patiently by the front door, but Adria seemed ready to be off. She often anxiously focused her attention on the stairs, as if willing Océanne and her mother to hurry, and Ian wondered how she knew the sorceresses were close.

As if reading his mind, she told him, “If you focus, Ian, you can sense the sisters too.”

Ian frowned.
How?
he wondered. His eyes met Carl’s and his friend shrugged. Ian stared at the door, then closed his eyes, waiting for something to tell him that the sorceresses were near.

“Feel with your mind,” Adria said encouragingly. “Extend your thoughts outward, away from yourself.”

Ian’s brow furrowed. He had no idea what Adria was going on about.
This is rubbish!
he thought.
Absolute rubbish!
As he was about to give up, however, the strangest feeling came to him. It was as if a part of him extended itself to encounter something thick and heavy in the atmosphere, which also left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He was astonished by the sensation. And as he focused on the disquieting feeling, an image appeared in his mind’s eye. Well, not quite an image. Just the impression of a cold and dangerous presence alongside an equally dangerous but
slightly more tempestuous one. Without knowing how he knew, Ian could tell that Caphiera and Atroposa were somewhere across the street, hidden and watching the front of the building carefully. Ian was both fascinated and repulsed at the same time.

“What’s he doing?”

Ian’s eyes snapped open to stare directly into Océanne’s, which were bright blue and quite beautiful and were looking at him curiously. “Nothing!” he said quickly. “Shall we be off, then?”

Both Océanne and her mother carried small bundles held tightly to their chests and each wore traveling clothes, with a sweater draped across her shoulders.

“This way,” Adria coaxed, and the party moved down the hallway to the rear exit out the door and on their way to find Theo.

T
he closer Ian and his companions drew to their flat, the more littered and ravaged the streets appeared, and the more crowded. From all corners of the city, sirens could be heard as ambulances carried away the injured, blankets were laid over the dead, and every available Parisian citizen worked to pull the trapped from the rubble or helped firefighters contain the dozens, if not hundreds, of fires.

The air grew thicker with smoke as well, and it was soon difficult to breathe. Madame Lafitte had graciously handed Ian and Carl two of her spare kerchiefs to cover their noses and mouths, and Océanne used her own. Even with the layer of cloth over his nose and mouth, Ian still found it quite hard to breathe.

Only Adria seemed immune to the effects of the smoke. She needed no kerchief or cloth, but covered her mouth simply with her hand.

Finally, Adria turned a corner and Ian saw that the
street was the one that held the building of their flat, although the street was hardly recognizable now. Many of the buildings along the road had been hit directly by bombs, and Ian’s stomach squeezed as he searched ahead for any glimpse of Theo or the flat.