Paris smelled of coal smoke and rain-soaked stone. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, still unfinished—its frame rising like skeletal fingers toward the night sky. It was drizzling, and Nibble gave a disgruntled squeak when I opened the hatbox.
“Check the sky, Shadow,” Emrys said. “Let’s see if we tripped over any of the Eclipse’s booby traps.”
We walked the night streets of the city I’d always dreamed of seeing. Hooves clopped against the pavement, violin music drifted from cafes, and laughter spilled from balconies overhead. Instead of excitement, it made me uneasy. People moved strangely. One man tipped his hat tous, but when I glanced back, he was gone. Another passerby’s face flickered like bad glass, revealing hollows where eyes should’ve been.
“Did you see that?” I asked and tightened my grip around his arm.
“Yes. And I don’t like it one bit.” His eyes drifted to the rooftops, where winged shades flew low. Their wings didn’t beat—they glided. Too silent. Too smooth. I struggled to keep up with his stride, but I walked stiffly, my knees locked.
“They’re here,” Nibble whispered from the feet of a statue, where he tried to blend in with the wet, gray pigeons.
Emrys quickened his pace. “I know. Stay safe, my friend.”
“What’s the plan?” I glanced at the dark sky.
“The plan remains the same. The Surge will begin soon. We need to get there. When the ritual is complete, and my power is restored, they’ll regret they followed us here,” he said darkly.
“Where is this Surge?” I asked. We had been walking for a while already, and the streets were empty, washed clean by the rain. My cloak was wet and heavy, and my feet were aching. We had almost reached the base of the unfinished tower, surrounded by scaffolds.
He halted, peeking over his shoulder. “Just beneath that metal monstrosity they’re building. There’s an entrance to the catacombs below.”
The word echoed in my bones, making the hairs on my arms stand up. The legendary Paris catacombs! Grandfather used to tell us ghost stories about this eerie place, which has been harboring the bones of millions since the Middle Ages.Adventure seekers, artists, and scientists sought to enter the halls that stretched for dozens of miles deep beneath the city, and some never returned. I loved my grandfather’s travel stories, but this one always gave me chills.
I chewed on my lip. “Just beneath the tower? Not the most discreet location.”
Emrys nodded. “Correct observation, Miss Daphne. Somehow, mortals sense the places where ley lines cross and magic erupts. They started building temples and placing obelisks on top of them since they left the caves.”
I shuddered.
Mortals. My kind.
Emrys was really something else. Something ancient and powerful I’d decided to trust, for now. But the hidden contempt in his words was sobering. Our goals were aligned for now, but I didn’t want to find out what it would be to have him as my enemy.
The closer we got to the tower, the heavier the air became. Not only the scent—though the smells of damp stone, roasted chestnuts, and horse manure clung thick—but the weight of something unseen pressing in from all sides.
“I can feel it, Emrys.”
“So can they.” He pointed at the large, winged shadows darting through the low-hanging clouds. “Hurry, Miss Daphne.”
The iron scaffolding around the tower was so close I could see every detail. Workers had gone for the night. Emrys abruptly changed direction and pulled us into a dark alley I could swear had not been there a moment ago. In the soot-covered walls, a heavy gate stood ajar. A narrow stairway led down into shadow.
Emrys halted, and his hand closed around mine. The warmth of his callused skin made my fingers curl beneath his touch.
“Miss Daphne,” he said, his face serious, “this is a point of no return. Once we go in, there’s no turning back.”
I narrowed my eyes to pierce the twilight. Was that concern on his face? My heart was thumping in my throat. “Does that mean I have a choice?” I asked. His gaze darted to the door and the darkness beyond it.
“I want you to be aware of the risks. We might get swarmed by Hollowborn. I prefer to have your… cooperation.”
Oh. So that was his concern. He was making sure I’d follow him willingly into this, and he wouldn’t have to drag me through the catacombs screaming and kicking.
“Well, just as I thought. My options are limited.” I shrugged and wiggled my hand out of his grip. “Let’s get it done.”
He stood for a moment there, then nodded and headed to the door.
The sounds of the street faded behind us. The crumbling stairs led us deep until we reached a stone corridor. It narrowed quickly, the ceiling so low I had to duck. The air turned damp, cool, and heavy, with a scent that reminded me of wet chalk and wilted flowers. Light sprang to life and cast our shadows across the walls. Emrys had found a torch.
“I don’t like this place,” I whispered.
