Exeter checked in and distributed room keys. “We’ve got two connecting suites on the sixth floor with four sleeping chambers. If we require more rooms, the hotel assures me they will make every effort to accommodate us.”
During the trudge upstairs, Jersey calmly laid down a few security rules. “I’d like to request that no one leave the hotel alone and never without either Valentine or myself as an escort. Report any strange occurrence, no matter how insignificant. And I must ask everyone to leave their rooms unlocked, in case Valentine or I have to get to you quickly.”
On the sixth floor, before Exeter could turn his key, the door to room 19 opened.
The view from the hotel room was spectacular. Her gaze traveled across the Quai des Orfevres and the Seine to the Latin Quarter on the left bank. A telescope mounted on a tripod had been set up on the narrow balcony, which hardly had room for the window box planted with red cyclamen. Exeter leaned over to take a look, adjusting the eyepiece. “What am I looking at, Ping?”
The attractive and somewhat whimsical character folded his hands over his chest. “Latin Quarter. The east wall of the Sorbonne. There is an underground entrance to a student dinning hall—mostly used by delivery people to the kitchen.” Exeter motioned Jersey in for a look.
“Directly below the kitchen,” Ping continued, “is one of your long-lost entrances to the catacombs.” The gifted genie was in shirtsleeves and waistcoat; he apparently had been there for some time, preparing the room for their mission. Of all the Nightshades, Mia found Ping the most fascinating. He was also a powerful, magical force who was said to transmogrify between male and female at will. She had never seen him in his female form . . . Jinn. There was something intriguing about this beautiful, androgynous character, whom she found to be deadly handsome in a most exotic way—with his liquid silver eyes and long black hair. She had once had a discussion about him with America and Valentine, more of a girlish giggle, but she was surprised to learn they all felt the same attraction to Ping.
“What about the other locations?” Jersey looked up from the eyepiece to the river.
Ping sighed. “The view is blocked from here, better from the rooftop—we can set up there if need be.”
Mia hadn’t taken her eyes off the iron spire across the river. “By Mr. Eiffel’s Tower?” she queried. “It is rather . . . intrusive.” They all turned to study the daunting edifice.
“I’m not sure I like it—yet.” Jersey muttered. Exeter added a grunt of agreement.
“Why the surveillance?” Mia asked.
Exeter turned to her but spoke to all. “It is my understanding that Tim will be bringing several new gadgets with him—radio communication devices modified for our world. These will allow us to speak to one another, no matter where we are in the city. The telescope is a precaution—an aboveground lookout, to keep us apprised of either the French police or Prospero’s patrols.”
Ping nodded. “The other device will track us underground, and keep us from going in circles.” The young man crossed the comfortable sitting room and pushed apart pocket doors to a dining area. “I thought this would make for a kind of war room. We can tack up the maps and store all of Tim’s equipment in here”—Ping gestured to the table—“and enjoy a meal.”
A number of covered dishes were placed on a table set for six. Mia and America both lifted domed lids. “Thoughtful of you.” Mia thanked the jinni.
He turned to America. “Phaeton has been a great friend to me as well as a brave protector of us all. I sense his time with Prospero has been difficult”—when America looked up in alarm, Ping smiled a mysterious Ping smile—“. . . for Prospero.”
While Exeter and Jersey pinned up the map purchased in London, Mia fixed a plate for Exeter. She piled on his favorite foods, including lamb braised in a luscious ratatouille. Exeter sat down at the table beside her. “This looks perfect, Mia.”
“Of course it is.” She grinned, digging into her salade nicoise. “Is there a bellpull about? I know I’d love a good soak and a nap, after luncheon.” There were nods from both America and Valentine.
“Enjoy your meal, ladies, and allow me to order your baths.” Ping exited the room, returning some minutes later holding a plainly marked tin, and a tubular device, of the kind Tim Noggy carried about.
“Tim asked me to bring these on ahead.” Ping pushed a toggle switch on the side of the cylinder and a vibrant green line shot out from the end of the tube and into the air. The narrow light beam snaked up and down, sometimes curling back on itself, sometimes dividing into two lines to make a rectangular box, then merging into a single line once more. The beams traveled up and down, side to side, forming a labyrinth of glowing green lines in the air.
“A map of some kind?” A wide-eyed Mia looked from Exeter to Ping.
Ping positioned the projection over the map on the wall. Almost at once they all realized what was happening. The new semitransparent grid was aligning with the much older map, at least in most places.
Exeter set his fork down. “Another version of the catacombs?”
Ping nodded. “From the other side.”
“The catacombs of the Outremer,” Mia whispered.
“Using both maps, and the locator bugs, we should be able to triangulate the most likely spots Prospero has hidden Phaeton.”
America’s gaze fell on the plain metal box. “Locator bugs?”
Ping nodded. “Open it.”
America used two fingers and gingerly lifted the lid. Simultaneously they all peered inside. A great number of black beetles—mechanical creatures the size of a tuppence—swarmed about inside the tin. “I’ve been working with the tech wizard, Oakley.”
“Tech wizard?” Jersey asked, holding up a wine bottle. “Anyone wish to finish the last of this fine vintage?” Seeing no takers, he poured the remaining claret into his glass.
Ever the professor, Exeter elucidated. “From the Greek word,
“Tim often calls Oakley a tech wizard, who in turn refers to Tim as the Big Brain.” Ping appeared both amused and impressed by the eccentric brothers, and it was difficult to awe a creature like Ping, whose very existence was the antithesis of technology and science. He was a supernatural force.
“Oakley designed the flies on the wall, as well as these creatures,” Ping explained. “Rather unique little bugs—they’re heat seekers. They’ll scurry straight for anything with a temperature of thirty-five degrees centigrade or greater.” He closed the lid on the tin.
“And when might we expect Mr. Noggy?” Exeter inquired.
“He’s here, in Paris.” She did not believe she had ever seen Ping smile—actually it was more of a grin—and it was lovely. His silver eyes crinkled. “Actually, he’s below Paris—in the Outremer. He’s taking in the sightseer version of the catacombs. He intends on making a break from the tour and have a sneak about.”
“He’s here, but he’s in another dimension—an alternate Paris, and he expects to reconnoiter—when?” Exeter rubbed his temples, not a particularly good sign.
Ping arched a brow and coupled it with a half smile. Mia thought he looked devilishly like Phaeton Black. “Tonight.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t get lost down there.” Exeter leaned back in his chair and looked around the table. Mia supposed they all looked a bit ragged.
“No one got much sleep last night. Now that Ping is here to keep watch, I recommend we all get some rest.” Exeter the doctor advised. “We begin the search for Phaeton tonight—two groups of three—that way each of us will have a Nightshade with us. We’ll enter the catacombs from two different map positions and turn the bugs loose.”
Exeter entered the room and shut the door quietly. He was immediately struck by the sights and smells of their bedchamber. Their bedchamber. His heart pounded out of control at the thought of Mia’s next lesson. Truth be told, he was both excited and disturbed by his role as Mia’s sexual initiator.
