April Witch - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Stella
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 11

Fall storms blow in quick and leave dere mark on de landscape like fingerprints. Could hear one rumbling in de distance even t’rough de thick walls in de Pig’s house. Him an’ Essex left us together in a big room. Guessed it was de dining room. Formal, heavy wood, deep rug, nice silver, wide fireplace like you could roast a whole steer no problem. By dat time everyone was awake. Leaving us together was dere first mistake and I was resolved dat it would be de last.

“Mais (well), dis a fine spot,” Henri observed. He struggled into a sitting position. “Y’ know who dat is, right?”

“Diable,” I suggested.

Etienne shook his head an’ Emil snorted in de same instant. “You have been away too long.”

“Been busy,” I muttered. Dey’d put me on de defensive, or mebbe was my guilt dat made de suggestion hurt so much.

“Messin’ around wit’ some connarde (bitch),” Emil snapped back.

“Ain (what did you say)?” Barely recognized my voice. De urge t’ hit him was runnin’ in me den.

“Dis isn’t helping!” Etienne said. He put his hand on my arm. Was strange t’ feel his skin, young and soft, but see his wise eyes. In some ways he was an old man. In some ways we all were.

“Etienne’s right. We have t’ get out of here. You two can finish dis later,” Mercy said urgently.

“De Pig’s no one t’ mess wit’,” Henri added. He looked worried. For de first time I saw him worried and dat scared me more dan anyt’ing had so far.

“Who is he?”

“He showed up couple months back. Been takin’ bites outta Jean-Luc’s business,” Emil explained. His earlier anger seemed t’ have drained outta him.

“Word is he’s in wit’ de Antiquary,” Mercy added.

“Ah, bonnes nouvelles (good news) I see.” Tried t’ make it light, but I couldn’t help but frown.

“De Antiquary...t’ought Jean-Luc excommunicated him. Heard he was in Moscow,” Etienne said innocently.

“Yeah, because of me,” I replied. “An’ de world’s not so big. Just because somebody’s in Moscow one day can’t be sure he’ll stay dere.”

“What ‘bout de other man? Has anyone ever seen de Antiquary?” Emil asked.

“Non, only Jean-Luc. De man’s name is Essex.”

Outside, de wind was picking up. Branches against de house were scrabbling fingers. Couldn’t help but shiver.

“Never heard o’ him,” Mercy offered.

“I don’t like de look o’ him, but I never heard of him either,” I said.

“Never mind dat right now,” Henri said impatiently. He tapped his foot and de sound was swallowed by de rug. “Mercy’s right. Dere’s somet’ing going on here, but we can’t worry about dat right now. How do we get out?”

I waved my hand at de fireplace. “Make like Santa.” I grinned.

In any other company it might have been shocking, but no one in de room batted an eye. Dey only turned to de fireplace.

“Mercy’s first,” Henri said. Relief filled me like a sigh. Was nice t’ be back wit’ people who understood how t’ings had t’ be done. “Here, I’ll give you a hand.” Dey started to move but Etienne stopped dem.

“Wait!” He tilted his head toward de far wall. “Camera. Suggestions?”

“How long d’you figure?” Emil asked.

“For all of us? Ten minutes.”

Emil bit his lip. “Right. How ‘bout five? Remy?”

We stood under de camera. I cupped my hands and hoisted him up. He stood on my shoulders. “Oof. Too much o’ Mattie’s blackened catfish.”

Emil poked me in de neck wit’ his toe. “Oops. Foot slipped.”

“Why don’t y’ come down here and try dat again.”

“Why don’t y’ bec mon chu (kiss my ass).” Emil’s voice was halting and I knew dat he was concentrating on opening de camera’s casing an’ finding de right wires. If he could short out de works for even a little, dat would give us de time we needed. “Get ready t’ go when I say. You too, Etienne.”

By den he really was getting heavy t’ hold. His full weight rested on my shoulder muscles and dey burned steadily. “Hurry,” I gasped. Heard a noise from de hallway. Footsteps, far down, coming closer.

“Okay. Three...two...one, go!”

Henri cupped his hands and practically threw Mercy into de chimney. Etienne followed. Emil jumped down from my shoulders and sprinted across de room. De doorknob rattled. Heard de scrape of a key. Barely felt de floor under my feet as I ran. De next t’ing I knew, my foot was in Henri’s hand and I was flying up into de darkness.

My hands scraped against de brick, slipped in de ash before dey caught. I braced my back on one side of de chimney, my feet on de other and started scrambling for all I was worth. Long as I live I’ll never forget dat trip. De blackness was almost perfect, de smell of stale smoke filled my nose and mouth until I almost gagged on it. Above me, de others dislodged loose soot and it fell in my face. Outside, de wind was really howling like it wanted t’ rip de house down. T’ought I heard shouts from below, but I forced myself t’ ignore dem and keep moving.

It was getting hotter. Sweat dripped in my eyes, stinging. My hands were slick wit’ it. It was getting harder t’ keep handholds. Every muscle burned. Finally, I couldn’t hold myself against de bricks anymore, but as I slipped, a hand reached down t’rough de dark and pulled me out. I looked up into Emil’s smiling face and almost cried wit’ relief.

“Couldn’t let you fall. You’ve still got t’ try t’ kick my ass,” he said ruefully. It was his way of apologizing for what he’d said earlier. Together, he and Mercy pulled me out of de chimney and onto de roof.

Henri came up a moment later and we all lay dere, panting. Jags of lightning split de sky. It was raining in earnest, so hard dat de water felt like needles, but at least it was washing off de soot.

“Got t’ keep moving,” Henri finally said. “Dere was someone in de room. Don’t t’ink dey saw me, but it won’t take dem long t’ figure out where we went.”

Below us, spotlights went on, flashing across de lawn. “You practice dis wit’ dem?” I asked wryly.

“On est foutu (we’re fucked),” Mercy muttered.

“Around de back,” Etienne said. “See where de lights don’t reach?”

Wanted t’ laugh wit’ de simplicity of it. On de far side of de wide lawn was a place where de trees had grown in closer. Tall, strong wit’ straight trunks, de top branches were on a level wit’ de roof. De darkened area wasn’t large, but it was big enough for five t’ieves t’ land in. Down de side, across de branches, down de trunk and we’d be home again.

We made our way across de roof. It was pitched, but not too steep. “You first,” I told Etienne.

“Really?” he sounded dubious.

“Consider dis your Tilling.”

De smile on his face was brilliant and every bit of it was directed at me. My heart swelled. I’d never felt so proud. “You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

Dat’s de smile dat’ll haunt my nightmares. What happened next happened in a series of flashes as de storm came closer.

Flash.

Etienne whirled so his back was t’ de edge o’ de house.

Flash.

He pushed off de roof, kicked his feet back and stretched out his hands.

Flash.

Made contact wit’ de edge of de roof. His hands slipped wit’ de combination of rain and fatigue.

Flash.

We all started forward, but we never had a chance t’ reach him. In de movies and on tv if someone falls, it’s always in slow motion and you t’ink: what idiot couldn’t reach dem in time? But it doesn’t happen dat way. In one moment Etienne was dere, beaming because I was promising him de world, or so he t’ought. In de next, he slipped down t’rough de air.

I heard two screams. One was his, an’ de other belonged t’ Rogue as she came streaking out of de night. At de time I didn’t t’ink about why she would be dere. All I could do was watch as she caught hold of de back of Etienne’s shirt as he fell only t’ have it rip. Etienne didn’t scream again. I didn’t even hear him land, but I could see him lying still on de ground like a puddle of light in de shadow of de big tree dat was supposed t’ be our salvation.