Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,94

and then kicked open the door with his heel.

'It's me,' he announced to Mirebeau, who stood at the rear of the small room in which he had been imprisoned, blinking in the sudden light.

'Gueret?'

'Yes. Hurry up!'

Waving Mirebeau forward, Leprat glanced towards the end of the corridor.

'Good Lord! I thought you had fled—'

'I'm not Rauvin. Come on!'

The gentleman in the beige doublet was coming out just as Rochefort arrived, intrigued by this guard he had seen coming up the stairs, perhaps a little too hastily.

'Guards! To me!' he shouted as soon as he came onto the gallery. 'Up here!'

Leprat fired his pistol in Rochefort's direction, taking care, as he did to aim high. The pistol ball lodged itself in a beam, but caused the cardinal's henchman to retreat, which was all the musketeer had wanted. With Mirebeau on his heels, he entered the nearest chamber and the two men pushed the bed

against the door before Leprat went to take a look through the window. It opened onto a section of roof by means of which the fugitives made their escape as the guards attempted to force their way into the room.

'To the stable!' Leprat cried. 'We need horses, it's our only chance!'

Mirebeau nodded.

A few seconds later, just as Rochefort ran into the courtyard with several guards, and still more were cautiously exploring the rooftops, Leprat and Mirebeau burst out of the stable at a gallop, having first liberated all the horses they found there. Spurring their own mounts and yelling like demons, they provoked a stampede, aggravated by the muskets fired at them on Rochefort's order, the furious shouts from the soldiers who saw their horses dispersing into the darkness and, lastly, by the anger of those inside the inn jostling with the guards who were still trying to prevent them from leaving. Leprat and Mirebeau, moreover, decided to take the shortest route away from the scene.

Charging straight at the gate, they jumped their horses over the musicians' stage, and in doing so, carried away with them the strings of hanging lanterns. The little oil lamps broke as they fell.

Trailing behind the pair of riders, they formed blazing splatters pointing in the direction of the exit, completing the panic of the other horses that had been set free. The two fugitives made good their escape, galloping flat out into the night and leaving a veritable state of chaos in their wake, as men and beasts alike ran among the scattered flames.

4

Having been warned by Marciac that Rochefort — which amounted to saying Cardinal Richelieu —

was seeking to lay hands on his daughter, La Fargue had kept his fear firmly in check. But once night had fallen he retired to his bedchamber, carefully locked his door and used the flame he had brought to light some candles, filling the room with a red and amber glow.

He took out a small key which he always kept on his person and used it to open a case tucked away among his clothing, removing a silver mirror which he placed on a table in front of him. That done, he gathered his spirit, keeping eyes closed, and in a low voice uttered ancient words in a language that had not been invented by men.

The surface of the precious mirror rippled, like a pool of mercury stirred by a breeze. It ceased to send back the reflection of a tired old gentleman, replacing it with the image of the one answering his call. The mirror did not lie. It revealed the true nature of those who used it and, in this case, revealed the slightly translucent head of a white dragon.

Such was the nature of La Fargue's contact.

But what did the dragon see, when it looked back at La Fargue ?

'I need to meet with one of the Seven,' said the captain of the Blades.

'Impossible,' replied the dragon. 'It's too dangerous.'

'Do whatever is necessary.'

'No.'

'No later than three nights from now.'

'Or else what?'

'No later than three nights from now. In the usual time and place.'

1

In an antechamber at the Louvre, Captain La Fargue stood looking out the window while Almades maintained a discreet guard at the door. They were waiting for Agnes, who had joined the queen's household three days previously and had not communicated with the Blades since.

Attached to the household of Anne d'Autriche, Agnes now lived in the palace and was no longer free to dispose of her time. Moreover, she knew she was being closely observed, the public manner of her arrival having aroused