“Well, is there anyone in the market who specializes in relics? Like . . . religious items?” I asked.
He thought for a moment. “Down that way there’s a store that isn’t really a part of the market. It’s more a shop, with regular opening hours. So it won’t be open on a Sunday, but you can have a look.” He gave me detailed instructions on how to get there, even though it was just a couple of blocks away. I thanked him with a grateful smile and headed in the direction he had pointed.
It was a tiny shop located on a street corner, flanked by an antique doll store on one side and, down the adjoining street, a vintage clothes boutique. The facade was painted bottle green, and the windows were lined with shelves packed with religious statues in every material imaginable: wood, marble, metal—even bone. There were crucifixes of all sizes and flasks of holy water “from the blessed springs of Lourdes,” as the tags read. The shop behind the display was dark. As the vendor had guessed, they were closed.
I backed up to get a better look at the building and noticed an antique, weather-worn wooden sign hanging above the door. On it, a carved raven perched atop the words LE CORBEAU. A light was trying to go on in my head, but I couldn’t quite flip the switch.
I read it once again and had a mental flashback to the passage from Immortal Love, with its Gothic-style letters that were so hard to read. And suddenly it clicked, and my heart began beating a million miles an hour. Le corbeau, “the raven.” Not le cordeau, “the cord.” I had misread the ancient letters in the book and had been looking for the wrong sign the whole time.
Could this possibly be the place I was looking for? It sold relics . . . under the sign of the raven . . . among the Audoniens. But this building could only be a few hundred years old, tops.
I didn’t know what to think. But there was nothing else to be done. They were closed. No phone number or opening hours were posted on the door. There wasn’t even a number on the building. I checked the sign on the doll shop and the place directly across from it and guessed the store’s address from that, writing it down with the name of the street.
A woman walked out of the vintage clothes store and lit a cigarette. She glanced over at me. “He’ll be back on Tuesday,” she called. “Tuesday through Friday.”
“Thanks so much!” I called back.
Well, I had two days to wait. And only an hour or two before Vincent was going to be off walking duty. I hope he doesn’t mind hanging out in my room, I thought. After my busy weekend, I was going to have to spend the whole evening doing homework.
TWENTY
MY PHONE RANG ON TUESDAY MORNING AT THE exact second my alarm went off. I checked the caller’s name and then answered. “So, Mr. Punctual, how are you feeling?” I asked.
“Alive. Again. And I’ve been waiting for an hour to call. Didn’t want to wake you before your alarm.” His voice was like a long, cool drink of water to my affection-parched soul.
I smiled. “I don’t have time to stop by before school. And you’re probably too weak to move. In fact, are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. But I looked in a mirror, and I look normal again.”
“Well, that’s a huge relief.”
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t stop. Just four more weeks to go, Kate. So I was calling to say . . . I won’t be able to see you tonight.” My heart dropped. After Sunday’s heartfelt conversation, I so wanted to see him in the flesh. To know that what we had talked about hadn’t just been a dream.
“Can’t you do whatever it is tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry, Kate. It’s really important that I get to it as soon as I’m able.”
I was starting to feel at the end of my rope with this whole project. “What do you want me to say?” I snapped, and then sighed. “Please try to be safe, whatever you do.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Vincent’s voice was apologetic.
“I don’t understand, Vincent.”
“You will soon. Everything’s going to be fine—I swear.”
Yeah. It will. Because I’m going to find another way.
My mood remained dark for the entire school day, and as soon as my last class was over, I booked it to the flea market. It took me a full hour, counting the bus, and the two Métro changes, but finally I was there, standing in front of the little green shop, which was . . . closed.