Page 153 of Our Radiant Embers

Next to me, Liam shifted and drew a breath. “I’m very sorry about that part.”

“Me too,” I said softly. “A loss like that isn’t something you overcome, but something that becomes part of who you are.”

Julien sent me a long look, one hand tightly clasped around his own thigh and crinkling the shimmering material of his suit. “You are very right about that.”

In the brief silence that followed, the thump of a heavy bass from the workshop below us seemed pronounced.

“Were you there?” Liam asked then. “When the fire broke out.”

“No.” Julien picked up his cup, and I recognised it as a way to occupy his hands. “I was on a school trip that week. The first I learned of it were pictures on the news.”

A school trip. God, he was so young.

“I imagine that was quite the shock,” Liam said.

“It was.” Julien left it at that, his gaze skirting away to settle on the vibrant backyard garden that George had designed for us just a month ago. Even though we were in the market for a bigger house, the view made me wonder why the Morgans hadn’t done it far earlier. Perhaps because Liam appreciated it more now that his earth magic was stronger and he’d mentioned drawing a sense of calm from the thriving greenery.

“So.” I let a delicate pause hang in the air for a moment. “How did your ancestors come across the right formula for the ley lines? People here tried and failed.”

Julien’s mouth pulled tight. “I’m not at liberty to share the formula.”

Liam snorted. “We’re not asking you to—we already know it, for better or worse. It’s the history we’re curious about.”

A beat passed while Julien seemed to make up his mind. Then he took one sip of coffee and set the cup down. “Yes, right. You see, after the French Revolution, our world—both magical and normal—was in…disarray, I think you say. I only know this from tales, of course. But that is when the ley lines beneath Paris became clearer.”

“Clearer?” Liam asked when Julien didn’t continue.

“Again, I only know this from retellings.” Julien raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck, then caught himself and straightened his spine. “Apparently, it was like some veil thinned between our world and the magic running below. Some families were able to sense it more easily than others.”

More than two centuries ago—a time when horse-drawn carriages had been the pulse of Parisian streets. I nodded. “And four of them decided to collaborate, I assume?”

“Yes,” Julien said. “Four families, four elements. They tried a number of things, various versions of magical theory and power symbols. Eventually, they got it right.”

“And then our great-grandfather broke an engagement.” Liam’s tone was wry, a half-smile tagged onto the end of his words.

Julien smiled back, almost shyly. “Yes. While the agreement to share the ley line system was still there, it was all very tense. But it lasted. Until the fire.”

“And now everyone is scrambling to rebuild their own version,” I said. “Except it’s not so easy, is it? Especially when others know what to look for and are watching your every move.”

“Guess that’s why Isabelle Blanchard thought that taking it elsewhere was worth a shot,” Liam put in. “At the price of a near-catastrophe.”

“Knowledge in the wrong hands is a dangerous tool.” Julien’s voice dropped. “I’ve been instructed from a young age to never, under no circumstances, no matter what promised, betray the formula. It’s a secret that lasted two hundred years, until she broke the agreement. I hope you don’t intend to spread it further.”

“Fuck no,” Liam said. “It’s bad enough it’s spread as far as it has.”

“I don’t believe my family will share it with anyone,” I said.It wasn’t something I’d actively considered before, but now that I thought about it, I was fairly certain of it. My father, aunt, and uncle avoided me when I came to see Gale and Christian at the manor, but the few times I had run into them, they’d seemed…changed, stripped of their self-assured air, a glint of remorse in how they steered clear of me. Christian, too, had been marked by the experience—still hiding his insecurities behind instances of snippy provocation, but far less than before.

“Neither will mine,” Liam said. With a glance at me, he added, “Ours, that is.”

Julien sat quietly for a few moments, watching us with a strange sort of heaviness. Then his lips tilted into a faint upwards curve. “I hope you’re right.”

“Me too,” Liam said, and yeah, same.

It wasn’t much longer before we accompanied Julien to his cab. He invited us to reach out should we ever be in Paris, and while I had no desire to meet the rest of his clan, I could see us meeting him for a coffee or lunch at some point.

“You like him,” Liam said a minute later, a statement rather than a question. We made our way around the side of the workshop to the backyard, a brief respite before everyone would descend upon us with a keen desire to learn how it had gone.

“I do.” I slid Liam a sidelong look and a smile. “He reminds me of me.”

---