Page 130 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘Not Riley?’

‘No. She named you Jean-Marie. Will you say it for me? Jean-Marie.’

‘Jonmarry?’ he echoes, heart beating too fast, mind running too far ahead with thoughts of a new home, family, Isabel.

‘No, no, slower. Jean.’

‘Jean.’

‘Marie.’

‘Marie.’

‘All together now.’

‘Jean-Marie.’

‘There you are, mon trésor. Jean-Marie Seravienne is your true name.’ Céliane looks around again. ‘Now, stay close and don’t let go of my hand.’

‘I won’t,’ he says, clinging hard.

They hurry down the narrow stairs together, heading through the empty storage room. He matches her easily, keeps up and stays quiet.

‘Am I from France?’ he can’t help but ask, thinking of his atlas.

‘You have French blood in you, but you were born here.’

‘What if my father chases us?’

Céliane stops, whirling around to crouch before him.

‘Troy Harker is not your father,’ she tells him. ‘And much as I wish I had a glowing alternative to offer you, your real father is much worse. We must keep you from him. You will be safe with us.’

Riley’s breath catches hard. ‘Who is my brother?’

‘Julian,’ she tells him. ‘We have been trying to get him free but—’

She falls silent upon hearing noises from below.

Heartbeats.

Awake.

‘We must go.’

‘There’s a stairwell they don’t use,’ he tells her.

‘Show me.’

They make a stealthy run for it, all the while Riley dares to hope that this might be the last time he has to see these walls and that man who locked him up and let him believe he was his son when Riley has always known he was someone else’s.

Slowly, they peer around the corners together.

She moves like him.

So silent. Naturally careful.

He watches everything about how she moves, fascinated. Whereas the men of this place walk like angry boulders, Céliane is fluid.