“Maybe the Watcher doesn’t want to be found,” Mimi said, taking a chug of water and passing it to Kingsley. “Ever think of that?”
“It’s possible,” he said after taking a gulp and throwing the bottle to one of the Lennoxes. “But unlikely. She knows how valuable her wisdom is to our community. She knew they would send me to find her. Believe me, she wants to be found.”
“Let me see the note again,” Mimi said. Kingsley handed her the piece of paper. She reread the note. As she held up the paper, she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. Something that had been hidden in the dawn, when it had been too dark to see clearly.
“Look,” she said to Kingsley, holding the note up so it was facing the direct rays of the sun.
Sunlight shone brightly through the paper, revealing something that had formerly been invisible, like a watermark. Phoebus ostend praeeo, indeed. The sun shall show the way.
In the middle of the page was a map.
CHAPTER 21
Schuyler
“It’s this way,” Jack said. “When I was a kid, the cooks used to chase me out of here.”
He showed Schuyler the secret passageways that twisted through the building’s vast storerooms underneath the castle. Historically, the home had been built to accommodate an entire court of nobles. There was a full servants’ wing, and the kitchens and pantries went down three levels. When the count was still alive, the royal couple had hosted lavish month long parties for guests and their entourages.
The castle was meant to sustain what had become an increasingly outdated, not to mention incredibly expensive, lifestyle. No wonder the developers planned to chop it up into apartments. Living with a staff of sixty had become untenable even to the countess, who was moving to her villa in Saint-Tropez with a much more moderate household.
But while the property boasted dozens of hidden rooms and mazelike passageways, in the end there was only one way out of the H’tel Lambert. Everyone, from the highest ranking nobleman to the humblest kitchen steward, had to go through the central courtyard and out the main gates. Jack and Schuyler found they didn’t have a choice: they would have to walk through the vipers’ nest to freedom.
The staircase from the servants’ quarters led straight into the main hall, where Jack and Schuyler could hear the sounds of hysterical laughter and uncontrollable gaiety, which sounded more overwrought and frantic as the dizzying music gained speed and volume.
“What are they doing?” Schuyler whispered as they huddled behind one of the fluted columns. “Why do I feel . . . like . . . like I want to . . . to hurt someone?”
“It’s what the Silver Bloods do, they “push”, they use the glom like we do, except they push in the opposite direction. They bring out the worst in people.”
“Shouldn’t we warn everyone?” she asked.
“This isn’t Rio. There are too many of us to overpower; the Silver Bloods will not risk anything more dangerous than compulsion. They are only here for you,” Jack said, trying to blunt the difficulty of their situation with another reassuring smile.
Schuyler did not want to be swallowed up by her fear, and steadied herself by concentrating on fighting the rising overwhelming sickness she felt from the Silver Bloods’ spell.
They had to find Oliver, and then they had to get out of here as quietly as possible. She had made a huge ruckus in running away from Jack, but the over-the-top antics of the Bollywood musical numbers had covered up most of that. The guests had figured she was part of the show, especially given the way she was dressed. In her sari she had blended right in.
“Here,” Jack said, handing her a small silver crucifix on a chain. “It should help.” He pulled out a similar one from underneath his shirt. “Part of the Venator uniform.”
They crept out to the garden and found Oliver standing by himself under a majestic beech tree, holding a drink. If he was surprised to see Schuyler with Jack, he didn’t show it except for a slight raise of his eyebrows, although it pained Schuyler to notice that a little light went out in his eyes when he saw them together.
It’s not what you think, she wanted to tell him. I love you.
Regardless, when Oliver turned to Jack, he was genial and gave him an overly hearty handshake.
“Good to see you, man. Been a long time.”
For his part, Jack shook Oliver’s hand with a firm grip. The two of them were intent on acting as if they had bumped into each other at the Senior Fling. Just a bunch of Upper East Side preppies catching up on news and gossip.
“So what brings you here, Force? Not the Committee I hope,” Oliver said, his light tone masking a wary undercurrent.
“Not at all,” Jack said, as Schuyler quickly brought Oliver up to speed. Once apprised, Oliver immediately understood the danger they were in.
“So, what do you guys have in mind?” he asked them. “I have a feeling we’re not going to be able to get out of here quietly.”
“So far they haven’t noticed that Schuyler is not in that room waiting for the countess anymore,” Jack said, looking around. “I think we can make it to Lu?” But before Jack could finish his sentence, he stopped, looking up with a startled expression on his face.
Schuyler glanced over his shoulder. The Baron de Coubertin had reappeared on the other side of the courtyard. But there was something different about him. Changed. Even from afar, Schuyler could see that his eyes were rimmed in crimson fire. Silver pupils.
Leviathan.
He stood immobile, scanning the room with those dreadful silver eyes. Schuyler turned to Oliver and saw that he had noticed him too. Oliver’s face was ashen.
“I let you go off with him, I was so stupid, I knew something was wrong. . . . When I spoke to him at the boat he was different, jolly even. I should have known something wasn’t right.”
“I didn’t see it either, Ollie. There’s no way you would have known,” she said. Silver Bloods were agile shape shifters, Schuyler remembered her grandfather telling her. Leviathan had locked her in that room, probably intending to dispose of her later. She shuddered to think of what they were planning to do with her.
“Listen, I’ll only slow you down, but maybe I can slow them down,” Oliver said, taking off his turban and throwing it on the ground.
“No!” Schuyler said. “We’re getting out of this together or we’re not getting out at all! Oliver! Listen to me?” she begged, a dawning horror as she realized what he was planning to do.
“Too late,” Oliver said as he picked up a nearby torch and ran toward the entrance guarded by the elephants.
“Come and get me!” he cried, waving it back and forth in a crazed manner. The elephants reared back on their hind legs, throwing off the King and Queen of Siam, and ran amuck through the bushes, chasing Oliver. The mahouts yelled, and befuddled party guests ran in every direction, trying to get away from the rampaging beasts.
“Quick?” Jack said. “Before they close the gates.” He held out his hand.
“But . . . Oliver?” Schuyler lurched around. “Oliver, no! Oliver?”
“He’s human; they don’t want him, Schuyler, We’ve got to get you out of here! Please!” Jack said, holding out his hand.
“No! I can’t! I can’t leave him!” She watched as Oliver ran farther and farther away, the elephants charging right behind him.
But staying there wouldn’t help Oliver. Not right now. And she was just putting them in more danger by hesitating. She wanted to run after Oliver, but she let Jack lead her away. They ran, ducking confused torchbearers and catering staff, dodging rampaging elephants, screaming party guests, and dazed servers. She could feel the wrath of the demon Leviathan, could feel his eyes boring at the back of her skull, a heavy, deliberate malevolence.
In a moment he would be upon them.
But unlike fighting, running was something Schuyler could do well, and together she and Jack flew across the cobbled courtyard and through the main gates. She looked over her shoulder one last time and caught a glimpse of Oliver’s raised arm as he disappeared into the rioting throng. He was waving good-bye.