The Witch's Grave Part 24

Twenty-Seven.

Later, curled up in bed, I felt tired, but my spirit was light. Abby had been right-I did it. The knowledge gained might not tie up all the loose threads, but knowing who hunted me was one more piece of the puzzle.

"All a matter of faith," I murmured to myself as I floated off to sleep.

The shadows were lengthening-I had to hurry. I pumped the pedals of my bicycle faster as I turned the corner. Good-the church of Saint Flora was up ahead. Good-the church of Saint Flora was up ahead.

I touched the package tucked in the pocket of my slacks. Precious food tickets-my payment for acting as courier for the saboteurs. The tickets had been waiting, locked in a shed near Quai de Valmy, when I made the drop. Using the key Brother Sebastian had given me, I'd unlocked the shed, left the explosives, and taken the counterfeit food tickets.

When I reached the alley next to the church, I made a sharp right turn and coasted to the rear of the building. Hopping off my bicycle, I left it propped against the side of the stone building and walked to a small wooden door. With a glance toward the end of the alley, I tapped twice. A second later the rasp of a bolt being thrown back sounded softly. The door opened, and Brother Sebastian silently drew me inside.

Touching a finger to his lips, he pivoted and strode down a narrow hall-his ca.s.sock whispering faintly against his legs. I skipped behind, trying to keep up with him. At the end of the hall I saw another door. He stopped, took a key from his pocket and unlocked it. With a wave, he motioned me down a flight of wooden steps.

A single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling lit my way as I descended. The air became cooler, and a musty smell seemed to radiate from the damp walls. At the bottom of the stairs, I found myself standing in an ancient cellar.

The s.p.a.ce was cluttered with old wooden chairs stacked haphazardly against one another, moldy books rotting on dusty shelves, and empty wine bottles. Brother Sebastian crossed the room to one of the shelves and slowly moved it away from the wall, revealing yet another door. It only measured four feet in height and had been completely invisible behind the shelf. He opened the door, and a small square of light appeared on the stone floor. Crouching, he went through the doorway.

I followed.

Straightening, I stood in a small room. Three pallets, laid side by side and covered with threadbare blankets, took up one wall. A single kerosene lamp, sitting on a square table in the center of the room, provided a small circle of light that didn't quite reach the murky corners of the room.

I jumped when a man suddenly stepped out of the shadows. In the dim light, I sensed his body tense. He wore peasant clothes-a homespun s.h.i.+rt, rough trousers, and heavy boots. An old slouched hat covered his head. Even though the brim of his hat cast a partial shadow over his face, I could see his complexion spoke of his Gitan heritage.

Brother Sebastian crossed the room and laid a hand on the man's arm. "It's all right, Jacques, this is Madeleine. She's here to help."

I reached in my pocket for the food tickets, but stopped abruptly when Jacques took a half step toward me.

A small hand appeared on his shoulder, and someone whispered, "Jacques."

His head whipped around as a woman holding a child stepped out from behind him.

"Come, Marie," Brother Sebastian said, taking the woman's arm and leading her to one of the chairs sitting by the table.

Marie sat, settling the child on her lap and wrapping her multicolored shawl tightly around the little girl. Jacques followed, and coming up behind her, put a hand protectively on Marie's shoulder while he stared at me with suspicion.

Marie was also Gitan-high broad cheekbones, with black eyes and hair. Those eyes watched me now with fear hiding in their depths.

I looked at the child-a girl. Although pet.i.te, I judged her to be around nine or ten. She had inherited the best of both her parents. Caramel skin from her father and her mother's black eyes. Her eyes didn't watch me in fear like her mother, or with suspicion like her father. Her eyes held nothing but bright curiosity.

"Jacques, Madeleine has brought the food tickets." Brother Sebastian nodded in my direction.

I took a step forward and placed them on the table by the lamp.

"Madeleine, this is Jacques and Marie Gaspard. And this," he said, chucking the little girl under her chin, "is Rosa."

I squatted in front of the child. "h.e.l.lo, Rosa."

"h.e.l.lo, mademoiselle," she replied shyly.

My eyes traveled up to Marie. "May I give her something?"

Marie relaxed against the back of the chair and nodded.

"Do you like candy?" I asked, and withdrew a peppermint stick from my pocket.

"Oh, yes!" Rosa exclaimed, her eyes dancing.

Handing her the candy, I smiled as her tongue darted out and licked the red and white stripes.

Marie bent her head down and whispered something in Rosa's ear.

The child paused for a moment and gave me a wide smile. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome," I said, smiling back at her.

She leaned her head back against her mother and continued eating her candy. As she did, a medallion around her neck glimmered in the soft light. It was a circle of gold surrounding four petals.

"Your necklace is lovely, Rosa," I commented.

Marie smiled and laid a hand over the gleaming gold. "It's very old." She kissed the top of Rosa's head. "It protects her from harm."

As I talked to Marie, Brother Sebastian had drawn Jacques to the other side of the small room, and they stood talking in low voices.

He turned to me. "Madeleine," he called abruptly.

Standing, I patted Rosa on the head, then joined them.

"I didn't want to frighten Marie and Rosa," Brother Sebastian said quietly, "but I want you to hear this. Go ahead, Jacques."

Jacques removed his hat and wrung the brim with his hands. "When the Germans came, one of the village priests helped us escape. Keeping to the woods, he took us to the next village and to the church that was there. The priest from that village moved us to the next, and so it went, until we reached Paris and Brother Sebastian."

"It must have been a long journey for you," I said.

"Yes," he said, lowering his eyes. "And we've a longer journey ahead."

"Tell Madeleine what you learned at the last church," Brother Sebastian prodded.

"To the east," he said, his eyes darting to Brother Sebastian before settling on me, "saboteurs had blown up a bridge. Someone reported to the Germans that those responsible for the bridge were hiding in a small village nearby. The Germans came to the village-" His voice faltered.

"Go on," Brother Sebastian urged.

Jacques's complexion paled. "Without asking questions, they ma.s.sacred the entire village. One woman survived by hiding in the bushes-everyone else-every man, woman, and child-dead."

Bile rising in my throat threatened to choke me. I swallowed twice. "How many?" I croaked.

"Over six hundred."

I gripped Brother Sebastian's sleeve. "What does this mean?"

"For your safety, Madeleine, stay away from the saboteurs-"

"But how will we obtain the food tickets?"

"The black market-I know of a man selling them."

"But that's dangerous, too," I pointed out.

Placing a hand on my arm, Brother Sebastian gave me a grim look. "These are dangerous times-all we can do is trust that Providence will protect us..." He paused. "...and be smarter than the Germans." His eyes traveled around the small room. "We've used this place too many times. We're moving Jacques, Marie, and Rosa to a new hiding place until we can transport them north."

"Where?" I asked.

"The Catacombs," he replied.

A chill shook me. The Catacombs-a series of tunnels dating back to the old Roman mines. A place of death-a place where millions of bones had been moved after many of the old cemeteries became overcrowded and had to be closed.

The thought of that sweet child being forced to exist among the dead had the bile rising again.

"You don't want to frighten them?" I asked with a jerk of my head. "What do you think seeing a wall made of bones and skulls will do?"

"Madeleine, not all the tunnels are used as ossuaries. There's one near Rue de Menilmontant."

"When are you going to move them?"

"Tomorrow," Brother Sebastian replied.

I glanced over at Marie and Rosa, still enjoying her peppermint stick, and shook my head. "Brother Sebastian, the Germans will take one look at them and know they're refugees...they'll ask questions." Looking back at Marie, I sized her up. "We're close to the same build. I'll bring a suit, hat, and shoes for her. She'll look like a Parisian when I'm finished. And Jacques? I'll borrow some of Henrick's clothes-" I hesitated. "But as for Rosa-I don't have any children's clothes."

Brother Sebastian's lips lifted in a small smile. "I hadn't thought of their appearance. You're very clever, Madeleine," he commented. "Don't worry about Rosa, I'll find clothes for her."

"They have to be stylish," I said, shaking a finger at him, "not castoffs. Otherwise the Germans will know."

"I'll take care of it."

"How long will they have to stay in the Catacombs?"

"Not long. I'm arranging safe houses to the north. There's a man with a fis.h.i.+ng boat who will take them to Sweden."

"Sweden?"

"Yes, Jacques knows a family there."

I gripped Brother Sebastian's sleeve. "Henrick is Swedish-maybe he can help them. I'll-"

"No." Brother Sebastian's voice echoed in the small room, startling Marie and Rosa. "That wouldn't be wise."

I lifted my chin. "Henrick would never betray me," I insisted.

Rus.h.i.+ng up the stairs to my apartment, I couldn't wait to talk to Henrick. I didn't care what Brother Sebastian said...I loved Henrick and trusted him. I knew he'd help me if I asked.

Flinging the door open, I burst into the room, only to pull up short, my greeting dying on my lips.

Henrick sat on the couch, a gla.s.s of wine in his hand, talking like a long-lost friend to...Vogel.

Twenty-Eight.

"You forced me to play hostess to that man for two hours," I shrieked as I stomped into the bedroom and flung myself on the bed. Enraged, I pummeled my pillow.

"Madeleine, don't be this way," Henrick pleaded, following me into the bedroom. "I'm sorry...I had no choice. I ran into him at Place de la Republique and he rather invited himself to the apartment."

I felt the bed dip, and rolling over, I sat up. Scooting into the corner, I glared at Henrick. "I don't want him here. I feel violated." My head whipped around as my eyes scanned the room. "I want to open all the windows, I want to fumigate."

"You're being overdramatic, my love," he replied, stretching out his hand to me. "You know I had to do what I did. For your sake and mine, Vogel must continue to think we're his friends."

I flounced deeper into the corner. "You're a fool, Henrick, if you think Vogel just wants to be my friend. Didn't you see the way he watched me?"

Henrick's chin dropped. "Madeleine, Vogel may be a German, but he's not without honor. He wouldn't dare act inappropriately with you."

"Pah, he would dare much. n.a.z.is have no honor." I got to my knees, and placing my hands on the bed, leaned forward. "Today I learned they slaughtered an entire village," I exclaimed. "Over six hundred people died." he would dare much. n.a.z.is have no honor." I got to my knees, and placing my hands on the bed, leaned forward. "Today I learned they slaughtered an entire village," I exclaimed. "Over six hundred people died."

"Where did you hear that?" he asked, lifting his head.

"Never mind," I answered, sitting back on my heels.

"Rumors-" He stopped and sighed. "Rumors and the propaganda of the communists. They want to incite the people of France, and they won't be happy until the streets of Paris run red with blood."

"You're wrong-it happened," I insisted.

Henrick laid a hand on my knee. "I know you hate them...I hate them, too...and right now things seem hopeless, but it won't last. Hitler's attacked the Soviet Union, and it's a battle he can't win any more than Napoleon could. Also, the Americans have entered into an agreement with the British. It's only a matter of time before they enter the war."

"How does that help France now?" I asked, clenching my fists.

"It doesn't, my love, but it means someday this will be over and we can have a life together. We just have to survive and do the best we can until then." Henrick lifted my fist to his mouth and placed a long kiss on the inside of my wrist. "Please, let's not fight. I'll think of a way to keep Vogel at bay. He won't be here again."