Page 32 of The Dagger and the Flame
This gave Madame Mercure just enough confidence to resume business. The coffers at House Armand were running low, leaving her little choice but to cede to a need still more urgent than that for caution: money. She had an Order to run, patrons to satisfy. And more than that, they couldn’t afford to appear afraid of Gaspard Dufort, even if they were. It was bad for business.
And so, the Order was returning to work. It was time for Seraphine to don her cloak and earn her place at House Armand.
The job was at Villa Roman, a palatial manor on the north bank of the Verne, which had, up until recently, belonged to Pascal Loren. The largest gambling den in Fantome was finally calling in its debts and had hired Madame Mercure to help.
Tonight, they were hunting for the Rizzano tiara. Over one hundred and fifty years old, the tiara had been a gift from the King of Urnica to Pascal’s great-grandmother, Edith Loren, with whom he had fallen hopelessly in love. According to Mercure’s sources, the headpiece had been sitting in the safe at Villa Roman for years, gathering dust, forgotten even by Pascal himself. On today’s black market, the tiara would beworth somewhere in the region of eighteen hundred gold sovereigns. Sera’s share alone would be more than enough to cover her stipend five times over.
Madame Mercure had managed to procure a detailed map of the property, which was folded up in the inner pocket of Val’s cloak.
‘It’s a soft Heist,’ Val told Sera as they made their way north along the banks of the Verne. She must have noticed that Sera hadn’t uttered a single word since they’d set out from House Armand just before midnight, or could sense that her excitement at becoming a true Cloak was starting to curdle into dread. Dread of stealing. Dread offailing.‘With Pascal dead, Villa Roman is low-hanging fruit. And it’s as far from the harbour as you can get. She’s making this easy for you.’
‘We’ll be in and out in less than twenty minutes,’ said Bibi, confidently. ‘I bet we could even do it without our cloaks.’
Val shot her a warning look. ‘We still need to be careful. There could be Daggers about.’
‘Or monsters,’ whispered Bibi.
‘Is there any difference?’ muttered Sera, who had been so busy steeling herself for the Heist, she had momentarily forgotten all about the Daggers.
In the distance, she spied the firelight of the Aurore shining steadfastly over Fantome. A soaring three-tiered tower of pale stone, each lined with troughs of flames, the Aurore had watched over Fantome for over nine hundred years. It had been built by the people here, raised up from the rocky earth as a monument to the lost saints of Valterre. It was a tribute and a silent, burning plea. The Aurore had been a call to thoselong-dead saints and the magic that once blessed the people of Valterre tocome back. Come back to us.
But the only magic here was Shade, and over time the shining tower had become the very thing people looked to when they found themselves afraid of the darkness and the creatures that stalked within it. The official symbol of Fantome – an ever-glowing flame – represented the light of the Aurore. The image of that flame hung in homes and taverns all across the city. A portent of good fortune, it had been embroidered onto wedding gowns and top hats, walking canes and baby blankets, and even carved into coffins. It had been painted and sculpted by hundreds of artists over hundreds of years. Some even wore the symbol on pendants around their necks, keeping that promise – that hope – close to their heart.
Mama never wore the symbol, but she wore the hope. Sera recalled the last time they had come to the city, bringing bread rolls and tomato soup to have a picnic under the Aurore.
Look how the flames glow all the way along the top, Mama had said, pointing high above them.Light always burns through the shadows, Seraphine.Her voice had wavered as she gripped Sera’s hand tight, like she was trying to press the words into her skin.Whenever you feel lost, my little firefly, you need only look to the Aurore and remind yourself how high you can climb.
Sera had looked at her mother strangely, trying to interpret the quiver in her voice.
One day, we will be better than this life, darling girl. Better than Shade, Mama went on, determinedly.And when the timecomes, you will rise far above this wicked city and become a flame in the dark.She had tipped her head back then, urging Sera to do the same.You will be the Aurore, Seraphine.
‘What are you staring at?’ asked Bibi, jolting Sera from the memory.
‘The Aurore,’ said Sera, tearing her gaze from it. ‘Who do you suppose lights the troughs?’
‘Who do you suppose cares?’ said Val impatiently. ‘Stop chattering, you two. We’re almost there.’
Soon, Villa Roman was before them. Although it was still occupied, it had become a tragic husk of its former self, the gold leaf peeling from its towering façade, clouds of grime gathering across each window. Because of Pascal Loren’s considerable gambling debts, parts of the roof had been allowed to fall into disrepair, and its magnificent gardens had begun to spill over the high stone walls. The façade of pale stone was inlaid with a grand stained-glass window that looked out over the Verne like an all-seeing eye. A row of gargoyles perched along the roof gutter, scowling at the river as if it displeased them.
Sera followed Val and Bibi over the iron railings and through masses of shrubbery, until they reached the back of the building. The windows there were covered in spiderwebs and the heavy oak doors were locked. Sera frowned at the metal padlock.
Val jostled her aside. ‘Watch and learn, farmgirl.’ She removed a pin from her hair and slid it inside the padlock as Sera kept a wary eye on their surroundings, spotting an owl watching them from a nearby tree, then a fox dartingin the bushes. The back of her neck began to prickle but she told herself it was nerves, her destiny hanging on this one moment – this one lock. And the task that lay beyond it.
Hold your nerve.
She could do this. Shehadto do this.
But she couldn’t stop her shiver, couldn’t escape the feeling that there might be someone else here, watching them. She scanned the bushes, looking for a tell-tale glint of silver in the dark. The eyes of an all-too familiar monster…
Click!
‘We’re in!’ said Bibi, excitedly.
‘Get behind me,’ said Val. ‘I’ve got the map.’
Sera stepped into the dusty dimness, turning all her nervous energy towards one simple, shining goal: the Rizzano tiara.
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ whispered Bibi as they made their way up the winding staircase.
