“In any case, you’re back,” said Mr. Gold, leaving Jules’s side. “And we have achieved something that hasn’t been done—to my knowledge—for centuries. A groundbreaking event in the freshly renewed relationship between the bardia and the flame-fingered,” he said, directing this last statement to Bran.
“Thank you . . . all of you,” Vincent said, looking around the room, “for your help and”—he looked at Jules—“for your devotion.” I would have cuddled up to him then and there if my Papy hadn’t been sitting right across from us. Also, I was afraid of breaking him. He was so weak.
“No need for thanks,” Mr. Gold said. “We’re all in this together. Now we must plan for your recovery and assess when you will be strong enough to return to Paris. But, first things first.” He picked up the phone and dialed. “Gaspard,” he said after a short wait, “yes, Theo here. I have very good news.”
Do you want to talk? Mr. Gold mouthed to Vincent, who nodded and took the phone from him.
“Gaspard? Yes. It’s me.”
An exclamation of surprise was audible from the other end of the line.
“I hope you mention my extreme sacrifice,” yelled Jules from across the room.
As Vincent began recounting the story to Gaspard, Papy took the opportunity to make his own call. “Emilie chérie, the re-embodiment ceremony that I told you about last night? Well, we tried it again just now, and it worked.” He smiled broadly at me. “Yes, we’re all extremely relieved. Of course you can talk to her.”
Papy handed me the phone, which I took with one hand because I wasn’t letting go of Vincent for a second. “Darling, what wonderful news!” exclaimed my grandmother. “When will you come back?”
“A doctor’s on his way now,” I said as the doorbell rang. “We’re just waiting to see how long it takes for Vincent to be strong enough to travel, and we’ll be back.”
As I spoke, a man with a doctor’s bag walked in. I wasn’t surprised to see he had the bardia-aura thing going on around him: I had doubted that Mr. Gold would ask a mortal doctor to tend to Vincent.
They shook hands and the doctor headed over to Jules first. “Didn’t I sew this up yesterday?” he asked with consternation.
“Yeah, well, let’s just call it ‘repetitive stress disorder,’” Jules replied, then winced as the doctor gave him a shot near the wound site.
“I better go, Mamie,” I said.
“I’ll be sure to tell Georgia your news, and we can’t wait to see you and Vincent back here at home. Give him a big hug for me.”
I hung up the phone, bemused. A hug for Vincent—from Mamie? That gesture in itself reminded me of how much she loved me. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my lips, and seeing it, Vincent smiled back at me. But since he hung up with Gaspard, there was something else in his eyes: worry. I was about to ask what Gaspard had told him when the doctor interrupted.
“So what do we have here?” he asked.
Vincent raised an eyebrow at Mr. Gold, who responded. “Vincent here was dormant following quite a violent death, and didn’t receive sustenance for a good while after awakening.”
Not completely a lie. I suspected that the re-embodiment story wasn’t something Mr. Gold wanted to spread around. Who knew what ties Violette still held in the revenant world? It had only been a few days since her treason had been uncovered.
I got up so the doctor could sit and take Vincent’s blood pressure. Bran moved across the room and began making notes in one of his leather-bound books. Adding a groundbreaking event to the flame-finger records, I thought.
Mr. Gold and Papy stood next to a window talking. “During the time we must wait for Vincent to recover, I would be delighted to return to the museum and show you the collection in more depth, now that we don’t have more pressing issues on our minds,” Mr. Gold was saying as I walked up to them.
“That would be an honor that I could not pass up, Theodore,” Papy said.
“Please call me Theo. You too, Kate,” he said, winking at me.
“Only if you call me Antoine,” said Papy, and grasped Theo’s arm warmly.
“You’ll be fine,” I heard the doctor saying to Vincent. “But I would strongly recommend bed rest for the next couple of days.”
“Two days?” Theo said.
“Two or three,” the doctor clarified, folding his instruments and putting them back into his bag.
Vincent waited until Theo closed the door behind the doctor before speaking. “That won’t be possible,” he said, trying to sit up.
“Why not?” Theo asked, looking surprised.
Vincent leaned his head back on the couch pillow and said in a weak voice, “Because back in Paris, war has begun.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” ASKED Theo, horrified. He strode over and sat at the foot of the couch.