“Gaspard just informed me that numa have been arriving in Paris in large numbers. Our kindred from all over France have reported them leaving their own cities and heading toward the capital. There hasn’t been a sign of Violette, but no one questions the fact that she’s orchestrating an offensive against the bardia.” Vincent’s voice was fading.
“All right. I will call Gaspard back to get more details on the happenings in Paris. But you would be of no help in this state. You have got to recover before we can even think about putting you on a plane.” Vincent didn’t even try to fight Theo. He didn’t have the energy.
Jules had sat up upon hearing Vincent’s announcement. Theo asked, “How about you? Are you feeling better?”
“Still weak, but nothing a good sandwich couldn’t cure,” he said, although he looked a bit woozy to me. Theo picked up the phone and placed an order at a deli and then phoned Gaspard to inquire about the state of affairs in Paris. Fifteen minutes later, we were all digging into an assortment of enormous sandwiches, crispy dill pickles, and salty potato chips.
Vincent stopped after a couple of bites. “I’m too exhausted to eat,” he told me. “Although I don’t want to take my eyes off you for a second, I’m going to need to rest, mon amour,” he said, his eyes blazing as he touched my cheek with his fingertips.
I twirled a lock of raven hair in my fingers and smiled at him, feeling like seventeen years of Christmases, birthdays, and wishing on falling stars had all been combined into this one moment. I was the luckiest girl on earth.
“Feel free to use my bedroom,” offered Theo.
“Too exhausted to walk, too. Couch is fine,” responded Vincent. And then he turned over on his side facing the couch back and closed his eyes. I covered him with a blanket Theo had brought in, then left my chair next to the couch to join the others at a table near the window.
“Tell me what happened with Violette,” Theo was asking Jules, who launched into the story starting at the moment Violette and Arthur had moved into La Maison and continuing until I discovered that she had been betraying the bardia all along and was now the leader of the Paris numa.
“She told Kate, here,” Jules said, nodding at me, “that her plan was to overthrow Jean-Baptiste and his kindred using the force of the numa and the stolen strength of the Champion, who she believed was Vincent. She had been priming him for destruction—had convinced him that following the Dark Way would help ease the pain of resisting death, when it was actually weakening him to the point that she could easily defeat him.”
“And you are sure that Vincent is not the Champion?” Theo asked Bran.
“One hundred percent,” Bran affirmed, holding up a dill pickle and studying it carefully before nibbling off one end. He grimaced and placed it as far away from him as possible on his plate.
“How can you be so sure?” Papy asked, but then looked abashed at having barged in on a supernatural discussion.
Theo shook his head. “You now bear our signum, Antoine. You participated in the most mystical revenant ceremony I’ve ever witnessed. And your daughter is the beloved of a bardia. You have a right to ask questions.”
“Thank you,” said Papy.
“It’s because of his aura,” Bran answered. “He has the revenant aura, which the flame-fingers describe as ‘an aura like a forest fire.’ But our prophecy says that the Victor’s aura ‘blazes like a star on fire.’ Vincent’s aura is no different from that of Jules. Or your own,” he said, nodding to Theo.
“So how do we know that the Victor is even here?” Theo asked.
“He is not here. He is yet to come,” Bran said, pushing his plate away with a curt gesture.
“But weren’t you going to let Jean-Baptiste parade all of Paris’s bardia in front of you to check?” I asked. “Why would you do that if you were sure the Victor wasn’t yet here?”
Bran shrugged. “That was his suggestion, not mine. And he seemed very determined.”
“But how do you know the Victor is coming?” Theo insisted.
“Because I’m the VictorSeer. I wouldn’t have become so if there wouldn’t soon be a victor to see,” Bran replied testily.
A silence settled on the room as everyone stared at Bran. He fidgeted uncomfortably.
“How do you know you’re the VictorSeer?” Jules asked, leaning forward on his elbows and clasping his hands together.
“I felt it happen when I touched your leader’s hand. At that point, I received the gift. I know I have it just as clearly as my mother knew she didn’t have it,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“So that’s how you know the Champion is coming during your lifetime,” I said. “But why was Violette so sure he was coming soon?”