‘It’s not all my blood.’
‘Cam—’
Ada stopped Guil by tearing a strip from her chemise. ‘Here, use this.’
‘Where are James and Olympe?’ asked Guil.
‘He took her.’
‘What – but how?’
‘No, not the duc. James.’
‘Back to the safe house?’
Camille shook her head, and Ada felt her fingers grip, trying to form fists where she was still holding on to Ada.
‘No. He took her. From us.’
Ada blinked in shock. ‘I don’t understand.’
Camille gave a bitter laugh. ‘He said England thanked me for my assistance. He’s their spy. You read in the duc’s journals that the English had been trying to do their own experiments. They must want Olympe for the same reason everyone wants her.’
‘That bastard,’ said Ada.
‘Poor girl,’ murmured Guil.
‘I’m not done with him yet,’ said Camille darkly.
‘Al first, though,’ said Ada.
‘Aren’t we too late?’
‘No – I saw his tumbril, he’ll be among the last up.’
A new light shone in Camille’s eyes.
‘Then we’d better get moving.’
Guil stopped Camille as they were about to leave. He held out an old pistol, the metal and wood battered and scorched.
‘I know it is no substitute for your father’s gun,’ he said. ‘But take this. It was mine in the army. I hope you make better use of it.’
Camille hesitated, a mix of emotions on her face, then closed her hand around the pistol and tucked it into her belt with a quiet thanks.
They left the church and wove through the backstreets towards the Place de la Révolution as the hour bells chimed. Time had nearly run out, but now they were in their element. They’d earned their name snatching people from the jaws of the guillotine. This time, Al’s life was on the line. They’d never failed to save someone yet, they wouldn’t start now.
The tumbrils were lined up along the river, waiting to unload their prisoners. Al was in the last wagon, stuffed in with a gaggle of other men. Ada tried to ignore thethunkof the guillotine falling at regular intervals, and the bay of the crowd as each head rolled. They perched at the edge of the Jardin des Tuileries opposite the ornate buildings of the National Assembly, blending with people flowing back and forth over the Pont de la Révolution. Al was there, right before the guillotine, and yet it still seemed such an impossibility.
‘We know how to do this,’ said Guil. ‘Surely we can do it now.’
Cause a distraction – snatch Al.
‘But look at the crowd! It’s huge. How will we get away?’ asked Ada.
A smile spread across Camille’s face.
Ada knew that look.
