“Perdu, stop!” I jab the tip of the letter opener into his neck. It’s an accident. A reflex. Perdu gurgles, but there’s no blood. Just a dry cleft in his skin, like birch bark, splitting. “Stop lying,” I say through my teeth. “Arrêtez de mentir! How do we get out of here? Who is the butterfly man? Is it Dorf?”
Perdu freezes mid-sob. His head is turned away from me. Slowly his eyes swivel and he’s looking at me, sidelong. He’s not crying anymore. His face is full of hate, sharp as a spade.
“He is poison,” Perdu says, and his lips twitch into a smile. “He is death.”
He inches toward me. I try to keep the blade in place, but my hand is shaking. His eyes are piercing, infinite layers of gray and blue and darkness.
“He is an angel,” he whispers. “Fallen from the skies. Cast down from the stars.”
I pinch my eyes shut. “Perdu, we need to know what we’re up against, tell us—”
“I AM TELLING YOU!” He rises, unfolding to a full six feet of bony limbs and pale skin, and for an instant I catch a flicker of something beyond that ravaged body. A proud man, strong and handsome. Hayden’s knife is raised, poised to cut Perdu down, but Perdu doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps talking, muttering away like he’s in a trance.
“They formed him from skin and blood and wisdom,” Perdu says, and his voice is a deep, ragged growl. “Without fault and with knowledge beyond any man, and they sought his favor. Le petite ma?tre, they called him, their little master. They built him a house far underground and they told him it was a gift, but they lied. It is a prison. And you are in it. He is moving you across the board like little dolls, and if they do not catch you, he will, and he will tear you limb from limb—”
Perdu leaps at me, teeth bared. Hayden knocks him out of the air like a fly, the hilt of his knife connecting with the back of Perdu’s head. Perdu drops to the floor, wailing.
“You will die!” he shrieks. “Vous allez mourir, you wretched children of darkness!”
Lilly, Will, Jules, Hayden, me: we all stand stock-still, gaping at each other.
“What did he say?” Jules asks.
“He wants to come into the panic room,” I say. “He says it’s not safe out here, but he’s not making any sense, he’s—”
“He said the butterfly man hates him,” Will says quietly, turning to me. “He said he’s moving us around like dolls. Perdu might be working for the butterfly man, but I don’t think it’s voluntary. He wants to get out of here.”
“We’re not taking him in with us,” Jules interrupts. “Not in a million years. We need to get rid of him and we need to get back inside—”
“We’re no safer in there,” I say, and Jules snaps right back: “We are; we’re definitely safer than out in the open.”
“We can’t let him go,” Lilly says. “It doesn’t even matter whose side he’s on; he knows everything and he can tell on us.”
“Lilly, do you want him in there with us?” Jules says, exasperated. “He almost got us killed! We have no idea who he is! Maybe he is the butterfly man.”
Hayden’s chewing the inside of his lip, head down. He looks up sharply. “This is how it’s going to be,” he says. “Anouk, you said he knows where the exit is? So he’ll lead us out of here. If he tries anything he’s dead; until then, we’ve got a guide. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, didn’t Confucius say that?”
No, Hayden. Confucius did not say that. But Hayden’s already dragging Perdu roughly across the floor. “Somebody help me. Rope and two carabiners, I need them now.”
Lilly runs for the hatch.
“We’re taking him in with us?” Jules asks, disbelieving. “We’re doing this?”
Lilly crawls out of the panic room, a heavy coil of fluorescent-orange climbing rope looped over her shoulder. Perdu watches her pass the rope to Hayden, and I see the exact instant the realization hits him.
A spasm races down his cheek. He shrieks, high and birdlike, tries to wriggle away. Hayden places his foot at the small of Perdu’s back and pins him to the floor. “Aurélie!” Perdu coughs. “Aurélie!”
“Don’t hurt him,” Lilly says, and I watch as Hayden ties his wrists, his legs. I try to force my thudding heart back into its designated cavity.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Hayden says to Jules, knotting the rope through the carabiners. “It’s either this or we shoot him in the head, and something tells me you wouldn’t approve of that, either.”
Perdu’s tied up in so much orange rope he looks cocooned. Hayden shoves him through the hatch. Lilly nods at Jules reassuringly, and they crawl in after Hayden.
It’s just Will and me now, standing in the darkness. He’s right next to me, his wounded hand resting against his stomach, his face slightly illuminated by the light from the hatch.
“It’ll only be for a few more hours,” he says quietly. “We’ll be okay.”
“You say that every time we’re in imminent danger of being killed.”
“I haven’t been wrong yet,” Will says, and somehow he manages a smile. His eyes spark warm and blue.
“Get in!” Hayden barks, and we both move for the hatch.