Elizabeth had allowed Raphael to accompany her… on the condition that he obeyed her every order. Raphael curbed his complaints as they hurried to the cathedral. So what if he'd fallen for Jean-François's 'orders'? So what if it was a mistake to trust his father? Yeah, Raphael had been dragged through this game of deceit and dragon crowns and the undead, but so had Marie. All that mattered now was saving her. Even if it meant following another liar.

True, Elizabeth claimed she'd been friends with his parents. But back at Versailles, she'd pretended not to be Marie's mother— broke Marie's heart— to 'protect' her.

When Raphael raised this concern, Alfred huffed, "How dare you make such baseless accusations. Her Grace was caught in an impossible situation because of that scoundrel Jean-François."

"No, Alfred. He's right." Elizabeth fixed her gaze on Raphael. "I should have been there for my daughter… and for you, after the accident—"

Fondue's ears perked up. "Woeuf!"

"I can hear it too," Raphael said. "Moon Princess!" The melody was rushed and desperate– a distress call.

Notre Dame loomed before them now. About twenty chevaliers loitered outside. (Did they ever know when to quit?)

"Raphael, enter from the roof and get Marie out," Elizabeth breathed. "Alfred and I will fight our way through the chevaliers."

Alfred handed Raphael his escape rope. Raphael nodded to Fondue and, ignoring Elizabeth's protests, the two of them pelted towards the chevaliers. (Legs, don't fail me now, he thought.)

"Excusez-moi… Pardon… Désolé…" Raphael said as they hopped over the chevaliers' heads one by one.

Raphael fashioned the rope into a lasso and threw it up to an angel statue in front of the South Rose Window. Fondue leapt on his back. Raphael scaled the cathedral wall until he mounted a ledge below the window.

Fondue glanced over the edge, growled and pushed his weight against a gargoyle statue.

"Since we're stealing all of Quasimodo's moves…" Raphael helped him shove the gargoyle onto a chevalier below. "Okay, you can take out the rest of those guys with Elizabeth and Alfred. I'm going in to find Marie."

Raphael considered busting a window to get inside. Wait— the last time he did that, he got himself caught. (The stained glass windows were too beautiful to break, anyway.) He gathered the rope and shuffled along the ledge, searching for an easier way in. Marie's music had to be escaping from somewhere…

Raphael looked up. Above the South Rose Window, there was a row of open pillars. Bingo.

By the time Raphael reached the pillars, Marie had stopped playing. Eerily, Raphael was reminded of a history lecture Émile had given him on coalminers. They used to take canaries down to the mines, but when the birds quit singing… you knew something was wrong.

Where was Marie?

None of the cathedral's candles were lit. If Raphael squinted, he could just make out the main alter from his lookout point…

"Help!"

There was Marie, running down the aisle of pews with her violin. Someone was chasing her. Raphael couldn't tell if it was Jean-François or his father. He didn't care. He was about to swing down and grab Marie, when the doors boomed open. Elizabeth swept inside. Marie turned. Her pursuer plucked the violin from her hands.

Crack.

The violin was snapped in two. Marie whimpered.

Raphael saw red. He dived. Not for Marie. He landed on the caped man's back. The man grunted as Raphael grabbed his neck, dragging him down. He tried to fling Raphael off as he stumbled backwards. Finally, the man fell over. Raphael flipped over the man's head.

Panting, Raphael grinned at Marie, Elizabeth and Alfred. They were all gaping at him.

No… not at him. Raphael turned when Elizabeth mouthed her name.

A woman had tripped Marie's attacker over. She stood up straight on short, toned legs. She stared at Raphael, her eyes lighting up as she recognized him. She staggered towards him, stopped and then stammered, "R-Raphael?"

He mumbled, "Hi, Mom."

"You've grown so much… How old…?"

"I'm sixteen."

"Sixteen?" she gasped. Her gaze shifted to Elizabeth, who was checking Marie for injuries. "Liz? You look so… so old."

"Thank you, Zoé." Elizabeth let out a watery laugh. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"I shouldn't—" Zoé's hands flew to her throat. "—Shouldn't be here. Should I? No, I remember the c-crash…"

Slowly, Raphael explained, "Dad brought you back—"

"Your father!" Marie exclaimed. "And Jean-François!" She grabbed the remains of her violin and rushed into a small side room. All of them followed her apart from Alfred, who watched over the fallen man.

"Zack?" Zoé called.

Raphael felt a flash of relief when he saw his father sitting up, rubbing his head. He groaned, "Zoé—? She caught him with a kiss. When she pulled away, his fingers traced the lines of her heart-shaped face. He laughed, "You really are alive…!"

Jean-François also lurched up with a moan. Elizabeth dug her heel into his red-stained chest, pinning him back down. "I'd play dead if I were you," she hissed. Jean-François lay still as a chided dog, though he scowled at her.

Marie regarded him warily. "I…I had to play the song to heal them, but it worked on Napoleon too."

"You owe her your life," Raphael growled at Isaac, "and an apology for kidnapping her!"

Isaac was still laughing, breathlessly now. "I'm sorry, Marie. But thank you, thank you so much—!" He was cut short by a slap to the face.

Zoé let him go in horror. "What have you done, Isaac?"

"He abandoned your son, joined an 'evil' organization, and revived France's one and only emperor."

"Shut up," everyone shouted at Jean-François.

Zoé sighed, "How can we fix this?" When Isaac refused to answer, she turned to Elizabeth.

The Duchess admitted reluctantly, "The Song of Eternal Slumber will lay all those who were resurrected to rest. The catacomb skeletons, Napoleon…"

"And me," Zoé finished.

Raphael grabbed her hand. What could he say? I want you to stay more than anything but then we'd all have to live with a loony emperor and a legion of the undead…

He was three when she died. Old enough to echo her lullabies, to imitate her smile and to inherit her sense of rhythm. Those parts of her would always be with him. But seeing her now— fervent, lovely and alive— filled the gaps in his memory with light. How could he lose her go again? It nearly killed him the first time…

He wasn't any better than his father, was he?

"Mom," he choked out. "I can't—"

"I know, mon petit." She squeezed his hand. "But the show's not over yet. Let's focus on finding this song first."

"Um…" Mother and son looked at Marie when she asked, "How are we going to play the song without my violin?" She gazed down at the ruined instrument, cradling it to her chest.

"It's not the violin that possesses power…" Elizabeth said. She gently lifted her chin and Marie gasped. "It's you, Marie." Elizabeth's eyes hardened with love and conviction.

She glanced at Raphael's family and considered, "Napoleon is now a living, breathing man. He should be as vulnerable as any other mortal being—"

Jean-François scoffed underneath Elizabeth's foot. "You forget that, in life, Napoleon was a brilliant strategist."

There was a yell, a bark and a burst of light. Recognizing the Bracelet of Tiamat's handiwork, Raphael rushed out to the alter room.

Fondue was in a frenzy. Alfred was on his hands and knees. Napoleon was gone.


"Eighteen…" Vergier pinched his forehead. "Eighteen Phantom Notes and you are not even sure where they are located?"

Charles Musson looked exhausted. (Vergier couldn't blame him, after being called back to Versailles at this hour.) The grizzled conductor shook his head. "All I know is that pieces of the notes are scattered throughout Paris—"

"Pieces?" Charlie parroted. "You mean we have to put them together as well?"

"If you want to complete the music scrap, yes," Charles sighed.

How long did they have before Isaac and Graf completed their plans, or before those skeletons invaded Paris?

"We can search the entire city in time," Emma asserted. Vergier and Charlie blinked at her. Emma smiled. "But we're going to need help. Lots of it."

Vergier grinned, grabbed Emma and Charlies' hands, and bounded out of the palace. "We must alert the constabulary immediately!"

"Good luck," Charles called after them. "I'll ask my orchestra to keep an eye out!"

"My students and their families can help too," Emma added.

Charlie was already phoning her friend. "Urbain…?" She was answered by a yawn. "Réveille-toi! …Yes, it is three in the morning. This is urgent." She explained the situation and ordered him to inform their teammates, their neighbors and anyone they met on the street.

Word spread across Paris: Everybody had to join the hunt.