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 moretangible.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.
“Thatis what’s killing Anne and Françoise,” 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 hunteverybody.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 pâtisserie 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.
“Still think I should showHis Royal Highnessa little respect?” I growl. Then I take off in the opposite direction, as fast as my exhausted body will allow. If escape is out of the question, we must keep the Shadow Society away from the hidden sewer entrance. Far away.
We run. Down one alleyway after another. My legs turn to feathers and everything is on fire: my muscles, my watering eyes, my burning lungs. The broken cobbles jut from the ground like pikes, biting my ankles and threatening to bring me to my knees. A few steps more and we’ll reach the Pont Neuf. We can cross the stone bridge and take cover in the overcrowded Île de la Cité, with its countless houses and chapels and narrow, twisting streets.
We are steps away from safety, and I’m so grateful I’m practically weeping, when a shadow moves beneath the bridge. An enormous shadow. Desgrez and I barely have time to stop before a dragon made of smoke rears up from the Seine and slithers across our path. It’s taller than a two-story building, with orange and yellow scales that flare like sparks. Its colossal head and long, pointed snout remind me of a crocodile, and the heat of its breath is so intense, my skin bubbles like candle wax.
“Move!” Desgrez shouts as fire pours from the serpent’s teeth. He grabs my tunic and yanks me back, saving me from the worst of the blaze. I gape at the cobbles—charred black where I stood just seconds before.
While I stand there reeling, Desgrez springs to action like the captain he pretends to be. “You go right and sneak across the bridge. I’ll draw it left.” He sprints away before I can stop him and slashes his blade across the dragon’s hind leg.
Inky blood oozes from the cut; the creature growls and turns fully on Desgrez. He waves for me to run, but my feet are cemented to the cobbles. Only a rutting coward would leave him to face this monster alone. I can’t bear to lose him, too. I crouch to extract the dagger from my boot, and in that split second a flash of green crackles overhead, so close it would have slammed into my chest had I been standing.
I whip around and shout at Desgrez, “Get down!”
The smoke beast rolls sideways and contorts its long neck, but Desgrez is not so quick. The green fire hits him square in the gut. His eyes go wide and his breath wheezes out in a grunt. Ropes of electricity snake up and down his torso, and he strikes the ground like a felled tree.
Blood rushes in my ears. My feet tingle as I stumble to where he lies. His skin is cold and chalky, and his face is frozen in a scream. “Don’t be dead, you bastard,” I whisper, holding my fingers to his neck. I heave a sigh when I feel a faint, fluttering heartbeat.
But my relief is short-lived. Orange sparks flash in my periphery.
The smoke beast rears above us.
A vicious calm settles over me, same as when I gutted the intruder in the dauphin’s apartments. I don’t think; I just move, prying Desgrez’s rapier from his fist and swinging to face the creature. If I must die, let it be defending my friend—in the name of my sisters.
The dragon rears up on its hind legs. I bellow and charge forward. Seconds before we collide, another bolt of lightning whizzes past my head. I flatten against the ground. Once again, the creature dodges too, twisting to avoid the flame.
The beast quickly regains its feet and turns on me with a hiss. Instead of hefting Desgrez’s sword, I glance up at the bolts of aqua lightning smashing into the ground like hailstones. Then down at the rubble from the obliterated shops. The smoke beast lowers its head and opens its jaw. I roll and grab a ragged slab of tin roofing. But instead of using it as a shield, I dive to the left—directly into the path of a green lightning bolt.
