An Affair of Poisons(23)
Before I realize what I’m doing, I steal a purple cloak off a motionless guard, throw the hood over my bleeding head, and vanish into the pandemonium.
6
JOSSE
Desgrez and I burst from the fiery skeleton of Notre-Dame de Bonne Nouvelle a breath before the roof collapses. White-hot ash and burning rocks pelt the rue de Richelieu like flaming arrows, but we charge through the cinders like knights of old, marching to battle. I toss my head back and whoop at the mayhem.
Such a pity Louis can’t see how brilliantly my preposterous plan is coming along. Smoke chokes the street and people dart everywhere, screaming and shoving and fleeing for their lives. It looks like the world’s largest tavern brawl, which should provide ample time to race back to Madame Bissette’s, collect my siblings, and drive like the Devil through the blockade around the city.
As we barrel through the haze, I scan the masked Shadow Society members strewn across the cobbles, praying I’ll see La Voisin or her sorcerer.
“Save yourself the trouble.” Desgrez nods up ahead, where La Voisin and the leaders of the Shadow Society slowly appear through the smoke. They’re trapped in the center of the teeming street, their horses rearing and churning like a dark, deadly whirlpool. We lit the cannon just seconds too early. My stomach drops and disappointment drags at my legs. Killing them would have made everything so much simpler.
“Don’t look so defeated. They could still be trampled to death,” Desgrez says as a rider pitches through the burning sky.
“We can only hope.”
The crowd grows thicker and thicker as we shove down the street. I slam into the back of a man’s sweaty doublet. When I try to step around him, I meet more shoulders and backs and fists. We’re like sheep trapped in a too small pen. It takes an eternity to elbow our way down half a block. We’ll never even make it to my sisters, let alone through the blockade, at this rate.
I lower my head and heave forward like a battering ram, trying not to see the children with tears streaming down their cheeks. Trying to block out the deafening cries of the injured. But they are everywhere, pressing all around me, hot and sticky and screaming. Fingers of guilt strum my heartstrings because I didn’t even consider them when I made this plan—didn’t think how the explosion would affect the innocent. And now that I’m in the thick of it, it feels eerily reminiscent of the attack on Versailles. Except I am the one leading the destruction.
No. This is nothing like that. This had to be done.
Would the people agree? Is it okay to sacrifice the whole to save a few?
Yes. The girls are worth everything.
Behind us, La Voisin’s voice rises over the tumult, calling her Society to arms. Her scream is like nothing I’ve heard before—like banshees and ghouls, the wail of the damned. Chills race down my arms, leaving me suddenly cold.
Desgrez glances back and shouts a stream of colorful curses. I ball my fists and peek over my shoulder, expecting to see Shadow Society members charging down the street, but instead of people, we are beset by beasts.
A brigade of Lesage’s smoke creatures take to the air, and a scream tears up my throat like a blade. These are not birds and butterflies like before, but winged dragons and three-headed serpents that are so much more threatening, so much more tangible. They roar and gnash their teeth as they slither through the clouds. From half a block away, I can see each glittering scale of crimson, green, and gold. I can feel the heat from their breath, and there’s no mistaking the tang of rotten eggs in the air—the distinctive scent of sulfur and brimstone.
After the beasts, Lesage sends a bolt of cerulean lightning streaking across the sky. It slams into a row of half-timbered townhouses, and emerald flames engulf the thatched roofs in seconds.
“What the hell is that?” Desgrez demands.
“That is what’s killing Anne and Fran?oise,” I say, lurching forward as needles race down my spine. I cringe at every scream, at every blast of stone behind me. I’m sorry, I want to shout to the people trapped in the streets. But it will never be enough. The Shadow Society doesn’t know who lit the cannons. I thought that would be a good thing—as they can’t hunt us specifically. But I never dreamed they’d hunt everybody. Striking out at random.
Why didn’t it occur to me that they would retaliate?
Reckless. Careless. Your fault. Father’s voice chases me down the block, and I have no doubt these gory scenes will be added to my nightmares.
We reach an intersection and Desgrez and I cut through an alleyway, making good time once we’re away from the main thrust of the crowd. “Faster!” he keeps yelling, even though I’ve never run so fast in my life. We fly down five more blocks and reach the patisserie at last.
But there’s no cart.
No sign of Louis or the girls anywhere. Just bodies and mayhem and the impossible distance between us and the road out of Paris.
Every molecule of air drains from my lungs. I’m going to murder Louis. I should have known he’d pull something like this. Should have planned for it. We shouldn’t have included him at all. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tears sting my eyes, and vomit burns my throat. It was all for nothing. All of this carnage. I turn a frantic circle and trip over my feet. Desgrez steadies me, spitting even blacker profanities. Precious seconds tick away. The Shadow Society’s boots sing across the cobbles. The heat from the smoke beasts grows closer and warmer. A strike of lightning levels a laundress shop across the street.