“Henri will make us something, let me go ask him.” Em frowned at him. “Or maybe we could both go down there?” She nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief, then scrambled to keep up with her as she went back down the stairs. “Henri?”
The kitchen was dark, and there was no one to be found in the inn’s tavern. “We have not been upstairs that long, Lex, where did he go?”
“I don’t know.” Lex made use of his race’s limited abilities to see through solid objects and checked the back rooms, but Henri was nowhere to be found. He knew that his tattoos were probably bright red and would attract the attention of anyone of nefarious purpose that remained in the inn, but he did not care. “He should be here. He lives here.” In one fluid motion, Lex removed the sword strapped onto his back, ready to strike. “Em, stay back, I’ve got -” The point of one of her daggers pricked the skin on his arm.
“Do not tell me to get behind you.” At the sound of her voice, Lex looked at Em, his chest swollen with pride. Em was crouched with her back to his, ready to spring.“I’ve got the entrance covered. You go check the kitchen, and when it is clear, I will check the back rooms with you. Let’s move.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lex crouched and moved as quietly as he could through the inn and into the kitchen. His vision had been correct, there was no living being to be found there. There was someone in the kitchen, though - he could hear feet moving, and once he rounded the corner into the room, he saw the hooded figure ducking out the back door. “WAIT!” he bellowed as he jumped the prep table and followed. “Em! We got a runner out back!”
“On it!” He heard her scramble out the front door into the night, but his attention was all on the cloaked individual running down the back alleys of Ghostfell. Luckily, Lex knew the city like the back of his tattooed hand, so he didn’t have to pay as much attention to where he was going - but the same could be said of the runner.
“STOP!” Lex vaulted a cart filled with hay outside the public stables before sliding to a stop around the corner - the runner was gone. “What the -?” A loud thump sounded to his right, away from the stables, and as he turned that way to investigate, he heard sounds of a scuffle that made him pick up speed. Finally, he was through the winding alleys and saw Em on the ground, rolling back and forth with the cloaked figure. “Leave her alone!”
“Or what, Lex?” The voice was familiar, but Lex couldn’t place it. The hooded figure’s attention was on Lex for a moment, which was a mistake because it gave Em time to buck out from underneath and land a punch up and into the hood. A gloved hand blocked her second strike by grabbing her wrist and throwing her into the air - right into Lex’s chest. He stumbled backward with the force of the blow and tried to hold on to her, but she struggled against him, so he put her down.
“Great. Got away.” Em was furious - usually, Lex very much liked to see her like that because of the flush in her cheeks and how her eyes would blaze - but this time, it was directed at him. “I had him - I think it was male, anyway. I had him!”
“I’m sorry, Em, I -” He hadn’t braced for the gust of magic that hit him in the chest, but it set off his innate defenses. Em was bathed in angry red light as he glared at her. “Do not tell me to stop worrying about you, foolish girl, because that is NEVER going to happen!” The timbre of his demon voice battered against the buildings that made up the alley, and Em covered her ears with her hands as she took a step back. She never broke eye contact with him, though, and he could see through his angry red haze that her fury remained. “It is my responsibility, my task, my sworn oath to Le Creáteur that I will not let you out of my sight until -” Lex’s mouth snapped closed before anything else came rambling out that at best, he was not sure about and at worst, Em did not need to hear.
“What did you say?” She drew her dagger and was twirling it in her hand - a trick that had become as innate as breathing. It also indicated that her blade was set to fly.
“I...I don’t know.” All of the fire and anger and defensive magic left him so quickly he wavered on his feet and had to grab hold of the building next to him to keep himself upright. Lex could feel her anger tinged with fear as though it was his own, and noticed that his tattoos had turned purple. “Em, there are things I don’t remember as well as I should - that’s why I wanted to talk to Henri, he’s been here as long as I have. And he knows Le Creáteur better than I do.” He took a halting step toward her, pleased that she did not back away from him but concerned that his vision was edged with blackness. “I feel like I may -”
Darkness.
Eleven
Lex’s eyes fluttered as he tried to figure out where he was - it was a bed, it was soft, but where? He raised his head a bit and looked around. He was in his room in the inn. Moments ago, he was in the alley - how had Em gotten him up here on her own? He sat up on his elbows and felt the point of Em’s dagger in his chin.
“Not so fast.” She was sitting on the bed with one dagger held precariously close to his chin and the other in her off-hand, twirling. “You want to tell me what happened down there?”
“How -” His throat was dry and his voice ragged. “How did you get me up here?”
“She had help.” Lex looked toward the sound of Henri’s voice. “You need to take care, mon fils - because my daughter is quite capable with those daggers.”
Em did not take her gaze from Lex’s face. “I told you not to call me that. I am Em.”
“Of course, of course. I am an old man, and you are a sight for my sore eyes, and I forget.
Je suis vraiment désolé, Em. So very sorry.”
“Forgiven. Now then, back to my original question. Lex?”
He could not take his eyes off her when she was angry. Her skin glowed in the light from the fireplace, and he could barely see the smattering of freckles across her nose. Those eyes pinned him in place and held him fast. “What happened in the alley was that I stopped that fugitive from killing you.” She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Henri.
“Leave us, please. I’m getting the feeling that Lex doesn’t want to talk about this in front of you.”
Lex shook his head - carefully, trying to avoid the dagger point. “Henri knows. He knows more than I do.” He looked deeply into her eyes and found no purchase there. “Em! Darlin, can we please -”
“What did you call me?” The hitch in her breath told him that his choice to use the old nickname was a wise one.
“Darlin, can we please move over to the fireplace to talk, or better, downstairs to the -”
“Non, Lex, that is not wise.” Henri sat on the opposite side of the bed from Em and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head slowly to glare at him. “Madelyne, put that away. We are all on the same side here. Please?” She sighed dramatically as she lowered the dagger, giving Lex the space to push all the way up to a seated position. “I could fill in the blanks, but Alex needs to tell you what he knows first.” Henri extended a hand toward Lex - he was seething at the use of his old name, but he could never stay angry at the sweet old man for long.
“Fine. Where do I start?”
“Who are you? That’s a good place, and DON’T YOU DARE SAY LEX.” Em glowered at him, and he nodded. The time for keeping her in the dark for her own sake had clearly passed.
Lex cleared his throat. "My name is Alexander. I was once human."
"Nope, not that story again. The real story."
Henri placed his hand on her arm, tentatively. "He is telling you the truth, ma fille. There are parts that he cannot remember." He looked over at Lex, his eyebrows raised.
"Will you allow Henri to tell you, Em?" Lex pleaded with her silently. It would only frustrate her more to hear the parts he couldn't remember. In truth, Lex was just as curious as Em was about the gaps, and it would prove to her that he was being honest on saying he didn't remember. After an uncomfortable pause, Em nodded, and Lex released a breath he was holding. He nodded at Henri to continue.
"His name is Alexander, thou
gh I confess I never knew his surname. He is from the American south, though I was never told which state. Once it was discovered that he was close to you, Le Creáteur ordered him brought here in the hopes that you would follow. Sadly, you did."
"Not on purpose!"
"No, of course not. That was the magic of Le Creáteur. He enchanted the mirror. You fell through a mirror, non?" Em nodded, eyes wide. Lex looked back and forth between them and wondered why he had not noticed the resemblance before. Though her avatar did not physically resemble Henri, they shared many characteristics. He was happy for his old friend - if Em was, in fact, the daughter he lost years ago, it was nothing short of a miracle that she was here with him now.
"She was running a mission with me," he interjected to give Henri a few more moments to marvel at his daughter. "It was in the burrow guarded by the Shadow Guardians to the south of Merseydale."
Henri pivoted to lock his cloudy blue eyes on Lex. "Where the box was hidden all those years ago?" Lex nodded. "Oh, mon fils, you didn't, tell me you didn't."
"If you mean to retrieve the box, then yes, we did." Before Lex could stop her, Em was on her feet and digging through the rucksack that contained the box.
"NOOOO!" Lex dove across the room to stop her, missing her by a wide margin and crashing into the floor. "Don't touch it, Em! Remember last time?"
"Of course I do." She turned back to show him the glove she had donned. "Deerhide, I believe? It is so hard to know when you can't just click on something and see the stats." Lex lunged for her again, and this time Henri joined in the effort, but Em was light on her feet. Lex scowled as she produced the box and quickly dropped it on the bed. "A bit sparky."
"Indeed." Lex rubbed his chest. Neither of his hearts would survive this - survive her - if today was any indication.
“Have you opened it?” Henri leaned in and studied the box and then produced a pair of round glasses from his apron pocket and looked closer.
“No,” Lex said, observing Henri’s reaction.
“And Em, what did you mean by - comment dites-vous - what is the word, sparky?”
“It vibrates when I touch it.” Les started to correct her, but she glared at him, so he turned his attention back to Henri, who was watching both of them intently.
“What are you two not telling me? Em, did the box do more than spark or vibrate?” Henri frowned as he studied her for a moment. “What happened when you tried to open it the first time?”
“How did you know - you just figured that out, didn’t you?”
Henri’s face darkened. “You have never been a good liar, ma fille. So you tried to open the box - do you have the key?”
“No, we didn’t,” Lex said, “so Em just tried to pry it open, and it shocked her. Sent a current right through her. If I hadn’t been there, she might have -”
“Lex!” Henri raised an eyebrow at Em, and she fell silent for a moment. “I just wanted to find out what’s inside.”
Lex mouthed an apology to Em. “I had to absorb the energy from her, Henri, or it could have stopped her heart, and she only has one.” Henri patted Lex on the shoulder.
“You did well, mon fils. She is here because of your quick thinking.” He looked back at Em. “Now, I believe what is inside acts the way it does when in contact with you because of what it is. I think that it is something that Le Creáteur put in the box for you, or to keep safe from you, more likely.”
“Well, that is just ridiculous since, until today, I have never heard of this Le Creáteur.” Em crossed her arms over her chest. “How could the box be a trap for ME if I don’t know who this person is?” Henri hung his head. “You know more than you are telling us. He does, doesn’t he, Lex?” Her gaze landed on him, and Lex wanted to sink into the bedclothes to escape her fury.
Henri held up a hand to quiet her. “I do know, ma fille, and I will tell you what you want to know once I am certain that Lex has strengthened the wards around this room. Lex?” After sending out a mental command to refresh the wards that kept others from knowing they were in the room at all, Lex nodded. “Right. I barely know where to start, but I think it should be way back before either of you were born, when I was a boy, still living in Montmartre with my parents.”
Henri
Twelve
It was a sunny spring day as Henri ran through the maze of streets in the 18th arrondissement of Paris. He hopped from cobblestone to the smooth pavement on the sidewalks and back again, proud of his balance that allowed him not to topple over as he avoided puddles. There were always puddles.
It had only been a few weeks since his 14th birthday, and he was hurrying home to meet his friend Val to work on a computer program for a game they were developing in their spare time. Both of them were exceptional students in maths and sciences, and they were working on the game as extra credit in a programming class. Henri swung around the lamppost by the cafe near the entrance to their apartment building. He was an only child and often stayed for several hours alone until his parents returned from work.
He leaped into the air from the lamppost, and after typing in an access code, Henri pushed open the large sky-blue painted doors that lead to their apartment building. The stairs leading to their fifth-floor apartment were daunting, but Henri had been traveling them for 12 years - since he could walk on his own - and he never bypassed them in favor of the lift at the back of the corridor. It was a point of pride that he could climb the five flights in a matter of only a few minutes, and he soon found himself at the top, bent over double and gasping for air, but at the top nonetheless.
His friend Val was waiting for him. Val sat on the floor in the hallway near Henri’s apartment door, his Gameboy in one hand and a bottle in the other. “You’re already here?” Henri asked as he made a production out of stepping over Val to unlock the door. “Did you skip class today?”
“There is nothing that Msr. Caron can teach me about history that I don’t already know, Henri.” Val stood and turned the Gameboy off before tucking it into the messenger bag he had over his shoulder. He picked up the bottle he had been drinking, and Henri could see that the label was halfway pulled off - it read “-ina,” which meant he had been drinking an Orangina.
“Did you bring one of those for me too?” he asked, and Val produced one from the messenger bag as he came in the apartment after Henri. “Thanks, mate. Now, what do we need to do today?”
“I have some stuff to show you, Henri. Lots of code. I was up half the night, which is why I skipped class.” Henri sat down and booted up his father’s Amiga computer, a gift from a colleague in England. It was the best for programming, and that was precisely what he and Val were working on for school. Val produced a floppy disk, and Henri found the file on the system and loaded up the program.
Henri paused in his storytelling - Lex had dozed off, and Em was drumming her fingers on the box, causing sparks. "What?"
"Henri, I love the storytelling, really, but can you get to the point? We are sort of working against the clock here." She looked at him, and his breath caught in his throat for a moment. She looked different, but her attitude and personality was the image of his Maggie, and he was finding it hard to do anything other than just staring at her.
"You are right, of course." He took a deep breath before he continued speaking. "You probably know all about your father as a young man in Montmartre anyway." He chuckled but fell silent as he noticed the warning look in her eyes. "Sorry." She looked back to Lex and smacked him hard on the leg when she found him to be asleep. Again, Henri marveled at her. Not many in this world would voluntarily be in the same room with a Prophis like Lex, let alone attack him that way.
Lex came awake with a start, arms outstretched to apprehend his attacker, but as his eyes met hers, his countenance softened. He loved her! Henri didn't know why he had missed that before. He realized with a start that they were both looking at him expectantly, so he put a pin in that train of thought for later. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Synopsis of the sto
ry, please?" Em was running out of patience, which made her seem more like Maggie than before. Henri wondered if her avatar had been made that way on purpose - so that if she ever found him, it would remind him to keep his mouth shut.
Maggie, forgive me, ma coeur. "Val was my friend growing up until I moved to America when I was 17. He was very jealous and angry that I left and became even more so when I met my wife and decided to stay there."
"Right, so he hated you. What does this have to do with my safety?" Em leaned toward him, her hand on his arm. "I knew Papa left a friend behind in France, you know. I visited him when I would visit my grandparents in Paris."
All of the color drained from Henri's already pallid complexion. "You met...him?"
"Yes. Valentin, right?" She furrowed her brow a moment, and Lex nearly came out of his skin. Henri lifted a finger to his lips as he looked at Lex. Those tattoos were better than an alarm, glowing bright red. "What? He turned up at Mahmen's house once, and we had tea, that was all. Oh - his surname was Badeaux. Is that your Val?"
"Oui, ma fille. He also bears another name in this land - Le Creáteur."
Em looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “You are trying to tell me that someone from the real world created this - land, this game, and now lives here?”
Lex reached forward before Henri could stop him. He hoped against hope that Lex would not point out the obvious, but he knew better. “Em, you’re in the game now. You are sitting here, talking to your father, in the game.”
“That is not really my father, that is an NPC, Lex.” Em stood up from the bed and paced a bit. “Clearly, the person who did the coding knew my father because the resemblance is striking, but that is not Henri Laurent. That is not my father.” Henri watched her and marveled. His Maggie had never been able to keep hold of her emotions like that. Who had taught her to do that? “Isn’t that the truth, Henri?”
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