The temperature dropped again, and I glanced at Christof. His face had grown the color of a snowball, and his green eyes shone silver. He was the scariest damn thing I’d seen since the Axeman came after me, Aragorn or no Aragorn.
Sabine leaned over and whispered something to him, and the temperature seemed to level off. Not warm—I could still see my breath condensing—but at least not growing colder.
We were going to have to take Eugenie out of here with us. That’s all there was to it. Jean had already offered her sanctuary.
In fact, I hoped Jean had plenty of room, because his house was going to be crowded. The Elders had no reach and no authority in Old Barataria, and whatever question I had about leaving had been answered by my elf. He wasn’t going near Eugenie without her permission, and I was going to make sure of it.
My future landlord seemed to be engrossed in a series of nods and gestures with his infuriated faery friend.
Christof lowered his head and, beneath the table, I could see him raise his hands, palms up.
A loud pop sounded in the room, and everyone looked around. Another, this one lasting longer, made us all look up. A wide crack zigzagged across the ceiling, and I experienced a horrifying few moments of déjà vu.
Oh, God, please tell me Christof wasn’t going to bring down the ceiling.
CHAPTER 34
Christof was going to bring down the ceiling.
This time, instead of a crash of plaster dust and lathing, Sheetrock and roofing materials and snow rained down. Lots and lots of snow. And pandemonium. Sabine screamed and tried to levitate, but the stuff on top of her was too heavy. Florian pushed himself free and tried to dig her out. Zrakovi was completely buried, and I saw Alex wrapping his arms around Eugenie and pulling her free.
Jake had grabbed me before the first part of the ceiling fell and had shoved me to the ground, our handcuffs lost in the scramble. Now, we both climbed to our feet, looking around. Somehow, everyone in the room floundered under Sheetrock and snow, subroofing and nails—everyone except Christof, Jean, Eugenie, Alex, Jake, and me.
How had he done that?
Jean rushed to Jake and me, herding us toward a ladder that had dropped down from one of the holes in the roof. “Courir! Dépêchez-vous! We must fly.”
“Where’s Eugenie?”
“Alex got her to Christof,” Jake said. “They’re already at the ladder.”
The ladder. Were they nuts? I ran to the back corner and looked up into a black sky dropping snow on my head so fast it already felt frozen. Eugenie’s feet disappeared out of sight and, satisfied, Christof nodded at Jean and ran back to excavate his queen.
“You must climb, Jolie. Tout de suite.”
We were going to have a talk about that tout de suite business, and soon, but for now I grasped the metal rungs of the ladder, wincing at the cold. Couldn’t they have used a wooden ladder, for crying out loud?
My feet kept slipping, but there was no danger of falling because Jean was right behind me with his hand on my ass, pushing me upward. We’d be talking about that, too.
Finally, I reached the top where Rene waited, hand outstretched. “C’mon, babe, move it.”
With Jean’s help, which gave a whole new meaning to assistance, I managed to climb onto the roof. A gust of wind would have knocked me off but for Rene’s grasp on the back of my sweater.
Jean climbed out, followed by Jake.
Then the five of us stood and stared at each other. We’d gotten to the roof. I sure hoped they had a plan to get us down. And where was Alex?
I turned and grabbed Rene by the lapels because I figured he’d be the least likely to take offense at being manhandled. “How the hell do we get down? Did you think that far ahead?”
“Hold on, babe. It’s coming. You’re gonna love it.”
“What’s coming?”
As if on cue, City Park sprang to life around us. The lights blinded me at first, but eventually I could make out shapes. Alligators the size of single-engine planes, built out of bright green lights with yellow teeth and eyes, rose over the snow, suspended in midair, their lights casting colorful shadows on the white mounds beneath them. Beyond them, in the snow-covered, frozen pond, rose the green humps of a sea serpent. Purple and silver fairy lights strung along the twisted limbs of the massive live oaks created surreal vistas everywhere I looked.
A red and green Tyrannosaurus rex ran back and forth across the main road through the park, a neat trick I remembered from the last Celebration in the Oaks light show. Now, the dinosaur ran over snowbanks. Music from the nearby carousel tinkled. Christmas music from the Cajun Christmas Village wafted through the snow, carried by the gusts of wind.
This was beautiful and I’m sure if I survived I’d appreciate it, but in the meantime, my feet had gone completely numb, as had my ears. I was in dire need of my lost babushka flag scarf.
And I was hallucinating, because I could swear the nearest light-covered live oak had changed position.