I knew he was good at watching out for us, but I couldn’t stop being extra cautious. We never went outside without sunglasses and hats, and tried to stay away from places like Metro stations—which we knew had cameras. “I just keep thinking someone’s going to see us.”
Jack rocked forward on his palms, and the compass tattoo bulged on his forearm. “I know. But they probably think we’re halfway across the world by now. Eating dim sum in Shanghai. Hiding out on a beach in Brazil. We’d never be dumb enough to stay in the Dauphins’ backyard, right?”
That was true, but it was also the problem, and the reason we were waiting here now. As of this week, we’d exhausted every bit of research we could do in Paris, and at the worst possible time.
Scarface, one of the Order’s minions, called to check on our progress every few days. Yesterday, though, he’d sounded agitated. The Commander, his boss, was getting antsy. They’d already given us two weeks to follow these clues, he’d said. Two more seemed sufficient.
So now we had two more weeks to deliver Alexander the Great’s tomb, and that was it. Two weeks to find something archaeologists and treasure hunters had been searching for unsuccessfully for centuries. If we didn’t find it, they’d kill my mother.
Two more weeks.
We had to get out of Paris. We had to figure out where Napoleon might have planted the twin bracelet, and search there. Museums and art collections and historical sites . . . There was a whole world to consider.
The problem was, I had no documents, Jack’s were under tight surveillance, and unless you happened to be on a jet chartered by the Circle, you needed a passport to leave the country. Jack was used to getting what he needed through the Circle, but after a bit of searching, we’d found this seedy dealer of fake passports right in our neighborhood.
Off the landing was a narrow street lined with cafes, their rickety tables spilling onto the cobblestones, and finally, between them, lumbered a familiar stocky guy in a stained gray T-shirt and khakis. Jack hopped down from the wall, brushing dust off his dark jeans. “There he is.”
I readjusted my wide-brimmed hat over my face, and we made our way down the steps to a bench next to the carousel. The music stopped, and a round of kids got off while another hopped on.
“Have you got them?” Jack said.
The guy wheezed, pushing greasy red hair back from his face. “It is taking longer than I anticipated,” he said in a heavy French accent. “Complications.”
“You told us it would be this week,” I said, my voice rising. “How much longer?”
“One week longer.” He wiped his nose. “Perhaps two.”
I gritted my teeth. Over Jack’s shoulder, an opera singer had replaced the accordion player.
“That’s too long,” I said. “Is there any way to rush it? We’ll pay more.” I was trying to make my voice sound annoyed, but it came out somewhere between defeated and panicked.
“Non,” he said. “There is no way.”
I felt like cursing, and throwing things, and crying. Instead, I said, “Forget it, then.” We walked away from the guy’s protests, and I took the flight after flight of steep steps into the hills of Montmartre two at a time. I think I’d almost been expecting this. It couldn’t be that easy.
“Hey,” Jack said, catching up to me. “It’ll be okay, yeah? We’ll figure something out.”
I nodded silently, but didn’t slow down. I felt Jack watching me. There was one other way to get around Europe, and he hadn’t been subtle about the fact that he thought it was the best idea.
The Saxons could help us. My newfound family.
It had also been two weeks since we’d seen them.
If I was being honest with myself, I was practically obsessed with the idea of my father, and the brother and sister I’d just learned about. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to know them, and to give them the chance to help. But with so much on the line, I couldn’t take any chances. Could I trust these strangers when my mother’s life hung in the balance?
Jack stopped me at the top landing and pulled off his sunglasses. I tensed, not ready to have this conversation again right now. But he just said, “There have got to be other delinquents in this city who can get us fake passports on short notice. We’ll just pop in to every dodgy bar we pass until we find them. All right?”
A desperate laugh escaped my throat, but I nodded, and actually did relax a bit. Maybe there was another way. He took my hand, dragging a thumb across my palm. Goose bumps rose on my arms, like they always did when he touched me like that.
Jack noticed and dropped my hand so abruptly, it fell to my side. He pushed the sunglasses back over his face and turned away from the stairs, down a side street. “We should go to the market on the way home. We’re out of coffee.”
I rubbed my arms to banish the chills and caught up with him. I wasn’t allowed to feel like that.