Maybe I missed something. It wouldn't hurt to try again, I reasoned.
Tightening my hands into fists and then stretching out my fingers as wide as a Ping-Pong paddle, I tried to control the nerves bubbling inside my stomach.
What would happen if I was caught?
Fist. Paddle.
They'd just kick me out. That's all.
Fist. Paddle.
No need to freak out, Gia.
I relaxed my hands and peered around the wall. A few tourists were across the way from me, their backs turned. Carrig had drilled during our practices that sudden movements would attract attention. Slow, fluid ones and you'd blend into the environment, he'd said. I eased out of my hiding place and crossed over to the stand. He was right-no one noticed me.
Though the chapel was cool, sweat beaded on my neck. My fingers shook a little as I ran them over the copper stand, hoping to find whatever it was Gian had hidden. But there was nothing. Or if he had left a clue there, it was gone, lost to time.
Frustration settled in my gut. I might never know what he'd left for me. He wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of hiding it if it weren't something important. Whatever it was, its loss could be bad. But I had no idea what level of bad it would be.
The cool chapel suddenly felt hot. Stifling. I had to get outside.
Get some fresh air.
At the same moment I turned to leave, a man's cough startled me. My heart jerked in my chest, and I bumped into the copper stand, the flames on the candles flickering. My foot kicked some sort of metal rod sticking out of the floor under the holder, and it moved forward slightly.
Another cough came from one of the pews, and I darted a look over my shoulder, listening. The man's back was turned. He hadn't seen me. I dropped to a squat and inspected the rod sticking out of the tiles.
It had to be a latch or something. I tugged it forward the rest of the way.
Stone scraped against stone.
One of the bricks beside the angel on the right slid out from the wall.
I found it! Adrenaline sparked through my veins, and I struggled to push my excitement away. I had to stay focused.
Stay calm.
I did another quick check over my shoulder to make sure no one had noticed before reaching inside the drawer and grabbing the leather cylinder case inside. I moved the rod back into place with my foot, and the brick drawer shuddered as it closed, the noise causing me to pause.
Still no one noticed. The sound must've mixed in with the murmur of voices and the shuffling of feet in the cathedral. I climbed over the barrier and knelt on the step right before the priest who'd passed earlier returned. He nodded at me, and I lowered my head and pretended to pray until he was a safe distance away. Then I slowly tucked the leather case into the pocket of my trench coat.
The flames on the candles flickered as a shadow moved across the altar in front of me. Deciding to let whoever it was have privacy, I made the sign of the cross and was about to stand, but froze at the sound of her voice.
"I wasn't aware you were religious," Veronique said sweetly, as if we weren't sworn enemies.
Chapter Three
I pushed myself up from the prie-deau and faced her. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
"I highly doubt it." Veronique pressed her perfect rosebud lips together and slipped her hand under the flap of her coat. The candlelight flickered across the hilt of her sword.
"We're not doing this here," I said, eyeing the blade. "Isn't there a rule about holy ground or something?"
The Cheshire Cat grin on her face boiled my blood. It was the same one she'd flashed me during the battle on my front lawn last spring. It was only after I'd failed to stop Conemar from taking Nick that I'd learned Veronique had killed Kale. I held back the tears threatening to escape at the thought of him.
"Rules," she said without her strong French accent. Her blond hair was longer and twisted in a braid. The smug look on her face deepened the corners of her mouth. "Once you learn to break them, Gianna, you'll be the warrior Agnost believed you would be."
Agnost. I hadn't heard his name in a long time. Not since I first learned about the Mystik world. Nearly two hundred years ago, he had predicted that a child born of two Sentinels would be the coming of the end. And because my parents couldn't resist each other, I was the lucky winner of that gene pool.
I had to stall her. Figure out an escape. "Where's your accent?" Dumb question for a time like this, but it did put her off guard a little.
"A charm." Her eyes followed me as I eased right, hoping to find a way around her. "It helps me blend in-not get noticed."
I highly doubted she'd ever go unnoticed.
"What happened to you?" I backed up, the heels of my boots stopping against the kneeling step. "Why did you decide to join Conemar?"
She took a step toward me, her hand still resting on the hilt of her sword. "You've risked all to save the ones you love. Do you think I am different from you?"
She meant Bastien and Gian. To save them, I had thrown my globe at the trap door into the Somnium where we'd been stuck, releasing all the evil creatures imprisoned there. My stupid actions started what could be the destruction of both worlds. I had risked everything for them, without knowing the consequences.
"Why did you join Conemar? You're a Sentinel. Trained to stop men like him."
"Because I'm his daughter," she said.
I swore my jaw hit the floor.
"You're his daughter?"
"You heard me."
I just stared at her, waiting for my mind to catch up.
Why did no one know this? Or if they did, why hadn't they told me? I had to keep her talking. Distract her so I could figure out an escape.
"How could Conemar hide that you're his daughter from the council?"
She answered, "My father replaced a Sentinel with me when we were infants. Poor thing is at the bottom of a lake, weighed down with rocks. At six, when my magic hadn't come in, he had my parent faery convince the council that all I needed was private training."
Bastien had mentioned she'd trained with a private coach in the French countryside.
"Wait. Then how do you have a battle globe?"
She glanced down at her hand, and I took the opportunity to do a quick scan around her. I could go to her left. There was more room on that side.
"I'm a daughter of a wizard. I have little magic, but I can make fire look like a globe." Her fingertips sparked. She stretched her fingers out, studying her hand. "Damn it. There's a charm over the chapel. I suppose the sword will have to do."
"So that means you're Nick's sister." The thought made my stomach feel like I'd eaten a bag full of sour grapes. "Have you seen him?"
Her head popped up. Hatred flared in her eyes, and her grin vanished from her lips. "I know what you're trying to do. Distract me. There's no escape. The cathedral is surrounded by Sentinels more skilled than you are. Hand over all the Chiavi, and perhaps your death will be quick and somewhat painless."
All the Chiavi? She thinks I have more than one. "I don't have them all."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have been clearer." Her voice carried a sinister tone. "I only need the final two. We have the rest. And that ancient book, too."
My heart sank. "How-?" I couldn't speak. The other Chiavi were in Asile, locked in a safe. In the high wizard's chambers. Uncle Philip's chambers.
"How do you think?" She leaned forward. "We took them. Not but an hour ago. Asile is less a few guards and a Sentinel," she said. "I'll let your mind process that information. Wonder who could have perished in the attack. Was it someone you know?"
Oh no-Carrig? He was to meet Bastien in Asile, bring him to the hideout in Ireland. I wanted to crumple to the floor. Please don't be Carrig. My throat swelled, and I swallowed hard. Crying was not an option. I couldn't let her see she'd punched my weak spot.
Focus, Gia!
A fire burned in my stomach, consuming and angry. I wanted to crush her. But just over her shoulder, I could see tourists in the middle of the chapel, sitting in pews, clicking pictures on their phones, and I took a deep breath and released it slowly. There were innocent people around. I couldn't risk them getting hurt.
"It's my lucky day," Veronique continued, her hand going to the hilt of her sword. I recognized the intricate woven metal on the hilt-the Chiave. "I was on my way to deliver our spoils from the attack to daddy dearest when my spy found me with information about your whereabouts."
Someone told her where I'd be. Who?
"There's security here." I grasped the hilt of my sword. "They have guns."
A sinister snarl twisted her lips. "Not to worry. They'll be taken care of."
She started to pull her sword out of its scabbard just as a large group of men and women wearing choir robes cut between us.
I needed to take her by surprise. My boots scraped against the tiles as I got into my kickboxing stance-left foot forward, feet shoulder distance apart, fists up to my cheekbones, elbows in by my sides.
The last two women passed.
I charged at Veronique. A jab to her face. Cross punch to her cheek.
The tourists who witnessed my attack gasped and backed away from us, but I didn't let the commotion distract me.
An uppercut to her ribs.
Veronique stumbled.
A side kick to her chest.
She flew back and collided with the pews.