The climb took longer than the descent. Thirty feet of wet metal rungs, each one requiring careful placement. At the top, afternoon light waited—pale and filtered through warehouse windows, but light, nonetheless.
Delphine stood exactly where he’d left her, one hand braced against the access panel’s frame. She straightened when he emerged.
“Well?”
“The vault recognized me. Tried to show me Gideon’s distortions. They didn’t hold.” He stepped onto concrete. “Charlotte’s original design is intact beneath the corruption. Stronger than I expected.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s something.” He closed the access panel. The iron settled back into place with a sound like exhaling. “Gideon corrupted the network, but he couldn’t touch the foundation. Charlotte built it too well.”
Delphine pushed away from the warehouse wall. “So what now?”
“Now I need to understand what Charlotte actually designed before Gideon twisted it.” He started walking toward the street.“The vault showed me pieces. I need to see the complete pattern.”
She fell into step beside him. “The Archive has more Lacroix documents. Property records, expense ledgers, correspondence. I’ve been cataloging them for you.”
“Can you prioritize anything dated between 1760 and 1763? Those were her active years. When she was building the network.”
“I can have everything pulled by tomorrow morning.” She glanced at him. “You look better.”
“Than what?”
“Than you did yesterday. Less exhausted. More sure.” She smiled slightly. “The vault helped?”
“It reminded me that Charlotte knew what she was doing. That this network was built with intention, not obsession.” He navigated around a delivery truck blocking the sidewalk. “Gideon’s trying to prove soul bonds are manipulation. But he’s using manipulated evidence to do it. The vault still knows the difference.”
They walked in silence for half a block. Then Delphine said, “I want to see it.”
“The vault?”
“Eventually. But first I want to see the documents. Everything Charlotte left behind. I want to understand what she actually built before someone else tells me what to think about it.”
Bastien looked at her. “It’s not safe. The documents carry resonance. You touch them and the network notices.”
“I know.” She met his eyes. “I’m asking anyway.”
He recognized that expression. The same determination that had carried her through weeks of unexplained phenomena. The same refusal to accept protection through ignorance.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “At the Archive. I’ll walk you through what to look for.”
“Thank you.”
They reached the main street. Afternoon crowds moved around them—delivery drivers making rounds, shop owners checking inventory, street musicians setting up for evening. Normal Quarter activity while beneath their feet, a two-century-old mirror network pulsed with energy that had survived corruption.
Delphine adjusted her bag strap. “I should get back to work. Actual work. The kind they pay me for.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I’m walking you.”
She smiled. “Overprotective.”
“Appropriately cautious. Besides I enjoy your company, Delphine.”
“Same thing.” She grinned.
