He turned to JB. “I am guessing that this library contains several books that were purchased from me.”
“You would be guessing correctly,” Jean-Baptiste confirmed, just the slightest flicker of discomfort crossing his face as he revealed yet another of his secrets to an outsider.
“Then perhaps you know who the other members of this worldwide confederation of secretive revenant-themed buyers would be.”
“I would certainly know some of them,” Jean-Baptiste affirmed.
“Well, there are only a handful of important antiquity collectors based in New York. And only one of those who I know to contact if I find a revenant-related object. I feel that the buyer who bought this auction lot might have been the father of a longtime client of mine based in the city.”
Jean-Baptiste watched him, waiting.
“But I have no way of communicating with this collector, who goes by the pseudonym ‘G. J. Caesar’ except by email. And I doubt he would respond to a request from me concerning something already extant in his collection.”
As soon as Papy said the name, a shadow fell across Jean-Baptiste’s features, and I could tell that he was steeling himself for something unpleasant. Gaspard must have felt it too, because he made a kind of hiccupping noise and then began fiddling with some papers.
Papy continued, undaunted, “That alias seems to ring a bell with you. I had hoped you would carry out the commission and ask if the piece is in his collection. He would surely be more open to sharing information with you than he would with me.”
There was a long, uncomfortable moment in which Jean-Baptiste seemed to wage an internal battle. Finally, he stood and said, “I may know the man to whom you refer, but I don’t have his information easily accessible. Give me a day, Monsieur Mercier, and I will see what I can produce.”
“That seems reasonable,” Papy responded, glancing at me. I was shaking my head.
“We have less than forty-eight hours left,” I urged, “and Vincent says we’re not even sure that Violette will respect that offer. She could drag him back sooner.”
“I know exactly how much time we have left,” Jean-Baptiste responded, stony-faced. “I just need a little while to think.”
Gaspard’s fidgeting intensified, until he looked like he was about to blow a fuse. Rising to his feet, he faced his partner. “Jean-Baptiste, time is of the essence here. It is time to let bygones be bygones. I refuse to allow you to spend the day debating whether or not you will speak to Theodore. Fifty years is long enough for a dispute. Now, get on the phone and call him.”
“I might not even have his correct number anymore,” Jean-Baptiste countered.
“Vincent just updated the Consortium’s information in the database last month. I have no doubt he’s listed there,” Gaspard said, hands clenched tightly by his sides.
My mouth dropped open. Gaspard was never this assertive—except for the personality transformation he underwent when he had a weapon in his hand. Jean-Baptiste seemed equally surprised because he stood there staring coldly at Gaspard before turning on his heels and stalking out of the room.
Who is this Theodore? I wondered. I had never seen Jean-Baptiste act like this before—not to mention Gaspard react like this before. There must be some serious bad blood between the two revenants, and I was burning with curiosity to know why.
Everyone sat uncomfortably for a moment, until we heard Jean-Baptiste’s voice come from his bedroom across the hallway. He was speaking to someone on the phone. Gaspard cleared his throat as if to muffle the noise and give JB privacy.
After a tense moment, we heard the sound of a telephone slamming back into its set, and footsteps stomping back to the library. Jean-Baptiste appeared, his face a mask of composure but its mottled reddened tone belying his true emotions. He avoided looking at the rest of us and spoke directly to Gaspard.
“Theodore, indeed, has a five-foot-tall thymiaterion with mystical symbols engraved around the pedestal, including the signum bardia. He knows of two others extant in the world: one in China and one in Peru, so he can’t be sure that his is the one that was mentioned in the guérisseur’s tale. But he assumes that that doesn’t matter as long as they were all created for the same purpose.
“He said that he never discovered its use, but he’s excited by the theory that we are proposing—that it was created to facilitate a re-embodiment.”
“Did he offer to bring it to us?” Gaspard asked.
Jean-Baptiste shook his head. “He said it would take weeks to get the customs clearances to take an object like that out of the country.”
My heart leapt to my throat, and I blurted out, “Then we have to go there!”