Page 96 of The Light Within

Did she know who he was?

“Hello,” Cinn replied. He racked his brain for her name… “Isabelle?”

A smile broke out across her face.

A meow sounded from between their feet. Not the soft mew of a cute kitten, but the guttural, raspy yowl of their ugly shadow cat. It jumped into Isabelle’s arms.

Leaning over, Cinn scratched Béatrice’s flickering ears. The cat leaned into the touch. “And where the hell were you when I was attacked last night?” It seemed rather unfair to give him epic shadow powers, then snatch them away again.

Béatrice gave him no answer, only licked a smoky black paw.

“Why am I here, Isabelle?” Cinn asked. Back in the present day, Julien’s temper with the priest was likely fraying even further in Cinn’s absence.

Isabelle’s smile fell. “To watch,” she said simply, then crossed the church to press her back against a brick wall, still stroking the cat. “Come.”

An unpleasant knot tightened in Cinn’s stomach.

He’d already seen how this story ended—did he really need to see it all unfold? To see the moment Julien’s life forever shattered?

Even if he could refuse, he was out of time—Father Gérard entered the nave, slipping into the church through a back door. Although only a decade younger, he seemed a youthful man compared to the elderly gent Cinn had just met. He had a spring in his step as he hummed a hymn to himself, while sorting through a pile of bibles.

Bang.

The heavy oak doors burst open.

Isabelle marched through, closing an umbrella, hair damp from rain. She was the twin of the woman standing next to Cinn, down to her knitted blue jumper. On her heels, two unsmiling, young blonde teenagers shadowed her.

“Stay here, please,” Isabelle said, English to Cinn’s ears, the words sounding in his mind with a disembodied clarity, as if they were being whispered directly into his consciousness.

Young Julien and Béatrice pulled symmetrical despondent faces at their mother. Had they been dragged from the city against their will? The pair located a secluded pew towards the back of the church, settling into it and lowering their voices to a hushed murmur. They glowered at their mother’s receding back.

The Isabelle who stood beside Cinn chuckled lightly. “They were supposed to go to a friend’s party that day.”

What was so important it required Isabelle to visit Moret-sur-Loing so urgently?

Father Gérard’s hymn faltered mid-note, his mouth moving silently as Isabelle strode down the aisle. The stack of bibles he was sorting toppled. “Isabelle.”

“Father.” Isabelle’s hushed tone contained unmistakable fear. “I didn’t know where else to come. He’s finished it. Against all the warnings. He switched it on yesterday.”

“Come,” the priest replied, expression grave. “Sit.”

The pair perched on the edge of the altar steps, sitting closely together to continue their hushed conversation.

“We’ve failed. TheMachina Tenebrisproject is complete,” Isabelle said, her voice cracking, her eyes wide as if the words themselves were a curse.

“The dark machine.” The priest wrung his hands together before staring up at the stained-glass window, which depicted Christ the Redeemer with outstretched arms, light pouring down from heaven. He made the sign of the cross, his voice trembling as he said, “Lord, give me strength.”

“I tried. I really did. I’m so sorry, Father. I’ve let everyone down.”

“Your husband’s choices are not your burden to bear, Isabelle. Marriage does not bind you to his sins.”

Isabelle glanced towards Julien and Béatrice, still sulking in the corner. “Now I’m worried, Father,” she said, clutching his forearm. “If he finds out what I’ve been doing, about all the ways I’ve betrayed him, he’ll use my children as leverage against me. You know his ruthlessness doesn’t stop at hurting me.” She touched her eyebrow, drawing attention to a faint bruise. “I’ve thought it through, and I need to step back now, before it’s too late.”

Father Gérard placed a hand over hers. “You’ve walked a dangerous path, Isabelle. If you must step back, do so, but know that God’s light will guide you, even through the darkest shadows. Though, remember why we are concerned. Your children must remain untouched by the darkness he’ll create—trust in His mercy, and in your own strength.”

“There’s something you don’t know. It’s about Julien. He’s…blessedyou would say. In a unique way. Although, it remains to be seen if his blessing will be a curse. He possesses power like I’ve never seen, not from any first or second generation moteblessed. He describes these extraordinary motes I’ve never heard of, and can’t even fathom.”

The priest took a moment. “Does Lucien know about this?”

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