I racked my brains, trying to think of a weak spot or something that we could use as leverage. The deadliest thing about her was her size. Our weapons were useless when faced with such a huge mass—we’d practically need a battering ram to slow her down…
“Wait! We’re standing in front of the French military school!” I yelled, spinning around. Sure enough, the vast complex lay in the distance, its grand building hopefully containing thousands of well-trained French soldiers and an arsenal of effective weapons—less medieval joust, more sniper rifles and missile launchers.
“You’re a genius!” Shayla burst out.
“Good plan,” agreed Vivienne. “Shayla? Can you get us there?”
The ghoul queen was now racing toward us, the ground feeling like it was going to split under her weight.
“I’m all for it—but we’re going to need a distraction!” Lucas roared, swiping low to hack off the lower appendages of an approaching ghoul.
“The sentries are going to need to take over,” Vivienne replied calmly. She called over to one of the guards nearest to her. The ghoul queen leaned down, her fleshy hands about the same size as a small car, and tried to pick us up from the ground. We narrowly dodged them, my sword almost completely ineffectual. It probably felt like a splinter to her.
The guard and Vivienne battled side by side as she laid out the plan. The guard smiled, looking impressed, and then nodded, backing up to relay the information to the rest of the army. So far we were in luck; the ghoul queen seemed completely preoccupied with us, and less interested in storming through the streets of Paris.
“Now, Shayla!” Vivienne called.
A second later, we were all standing in front of the military building, its large columns and elegant classical architecture making it look more like a palace than anything associated with the military.
“So what’s the plan?” Lucas asked. “We just storm in and demand weapons?”
Vivienne looked behind us at the mass of ghouls and the irritated-looking queen.
“Yep, I think we do.”
We entered through the main doors, already open, with glamorously-attired officers flooding into the courtyard, all staring in amazement at the nightmare vision of the queen ghoul.
“Mon Dieu,” the officer closest to me whispered, “c’est hideux!” The blood drained from his face and he tried to loosen his starched white collar in agitation.
Vivienne quickly took charge. She approached the most decorated officer, a man who must have been in his seventies, and reeled off impeccable French. The man looked flustered, but ushered us all inside. He quickly led us through the huge galleries and rooms, yelling out instructions to the younger-looking officers who hurried by. Some of them couldn’t have been older than eighteen.
He came to a stop in front of a plain-looking door, which looked out of place in the rococo rooms we’d passed, the ceilings hanging with golden chandeliers, gilt wallpaper and huge oil paintings depicting all the battles of France right back to the Napoleonic wars.
With shaking hands, he retrieved a large bunch of keys and proceeded to click, twist and turn the multiple locks on the door. Once it was open, another door stood behind it, reinforced steel with a keypad in the center. Furtively looking around to make sure we weren’t watching, he entered a code and the door released, sliding sideways.
“Wow,” Xavier breathed.
We all stared in stunned silence.
Forget what the palace of Nevertide provided—this was an armory.
“Don’t stop and admire,” Vivienne snapped, “get anything large enough to take her down—and hurry.”
Without needing more encouragement, we all rushed into the room at once. The officer looked mildly panicked at our enthusiasm, and even more so when Lucas and Lawrence both approached a table of hand-held missile launchers.
“This looks about right.” Lucas smiled.
There were five on the table, each held secure by locks, and a glass case over them which I imagined was fitted with an alarm.
Vivienne gestured to the officer, who hurried to unlock the equipment. I was half amazed that we were given such easy access, but we could already hear the tremors of the queen approaching…time was running out.
“All take one,” Vivienne announced when the weapons were freed. “But once we get out there, you fire on my command, not at will. Got it?”
“Got it,” we replied—Lucas somewhat sullenly.
“Let’s go.”
We raced back out of the room, past the halls and palatial surroundings of the school. We arrived at the courtyard with seconds to spare. The ghoul queen was gaining on us—knocking down blue-tinted barriers that the sentries must have tried to put up when they couldn’t stop her. She waved them aside like cobwebs.