‘What?’
‘At the festival, when you’re supposed to hand me over. Pretend to kill me.’
‘I don’t know if they’ll believe it.’
‘Make them.’
‘It’s too much of a risk.’
‘We have to. It’s the only way to make everyone stop hunting for me.’
‘How would we even do it?’
‘I hadn’t got that far. What about the pistol?’
Camille had looked down at her father’s pistol hanging by her side. ‘I suppose I could load powder but no shot. But then what? They’ll see there’s no bullet wound. We’d have to get you off the mountain…’
She’d turned over the idea in her mind. It was extreme … but that seemed to be the corner they’d painted themselves into.
‘Are you sure about this?’
‘I don’t want any of you to get hurt because of me. If Comtois and the duc think I’m dead, then they’ll leave you alone.’
Camille had sighed. Olympe was right. And if both sides thought she was dead, maybe she would finally be safe.
‘Okay… Let’s do it.’
Together they had sketched out a plan. Camille would load her pistol with powder but no shot. Olympe would spark a small pouch of powder under her dress, blasting a hole that mimicked a gunshot. All they needed to do was get everyone in the right place at the same time.
It was cruel, but they’d had to keep the truth of the plan to themselves. If Ada and Al handled the duc, she needed their reactions to look real.
Though there was one person they’d had to let in on it.
‘We still need to get you off the mountain,’ said Camille.
A light shone in Olympe’s eyes. ‘I might have an idea about that. What if you let me fall?’
They’d called James from where he’d been checking on Guil’s injuries.
‘Do you have a minute?’
James had finished cleaning his hands and nodded.
With Olympe listening attentively, Camille ran through the outline of the plan, and what they needed him for. Someone had to get to Olympe’s body when she fell and declare her dead before anyone looked too closely.
‘We still have the soldier’s uniform from when we rescued Olympe from the Conciergerie. If you pretend to be a guard, you can get onto the mountain. I saw a replica of the mountain backstage at the theatre – it’s steep one side and sloping the other. It looks like a sheer drop from the top but if you fall from the right place, you’d only go a couple of metres before you hit a ledge. If you get in the right position, you can be first on the scene to declare Olympe dead. Then smuggle her away in the chaos.’
James had stared at her.
‘Are you completely out of your mind?’
Camille had grinned. ‘Only mostly.’
‘It’s a huge risk.’
Olympe had folded her arms. ‘Everyone keeps telling me everything is my choice. Then you understand what I’m saying,’ she continued. ‘The risk is mine, whether we do this or not. If we fail, I’m dead anyway, or worse.’
He had rubbed his eyes, muttering something unintelligible in English. ‘All right. I’m registering the fact that I think this is completely reckless, but if you insist on doing this, then I’ll help.’
