36
The next morning, Éponine was woken by someone knocking loudly on the front door. She stumbled out of her room and across front room to throw it open, feeling thoroughly grumpy and irritated.
Éléonore stood in the doorway, looking a little uncertain. She wore red today, the deep colour clashing somewhat with her dark orange hair. The rings on her fingers were encrusted with white jewels; there was a bluish diamond set into the fabric that climbed her throat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked, stepping into the flat before Éponine could say anything.
"Yes," Éponine said, honestly. "What is it?"
"It's not that early," Éléonore said.
"I was still asleep," Éponine said through a yawn, shutting the door behind Éléonore. "What is it?" she repeated.
"I have come about two things," Éléonore said, clasping her hands together. "The first is the expert I have written to about you has replied. She is travelling here as soon as possible."
Éponine nodded, not really sure how she should feel about that. She cleared her throat. "How long do you think it will be before she gets here?"
"A couple of days, maybe," Éléonore said. She shrugged. "I really can't be sure."
"And the second thing?" Éponine prompted, planting her hands on her hips and fighting back another yawn.
"One of the women you…rescued last night would like to see you," Éléonore said. She bit her lip. "The elderly one. I think she wants to thank you."
"You don't sound too fond of the idea," Éponine observed.
"That's because I'm not," Éléonore said. "What happened last night was unusual, Éponine, as are your abilities. The woman has been in this place for many years, I can tell, and she has moved between different areas; she has been all over the place, seen how the different places work, and she has met many people. I don't know what she wants, but she is after something from you. I just want you to be careful."
"After something from me?" Éponine echoed.
"Yes." Éléonore hesitated, but then said, "The things you can do are rare, but they are things that a lot of people here long to be able to do. We try and make sure you're not hounded for it. I'm sure that this woman has good intentions, I just – I have heard her talking, and I am not so sure what she wants you to do is safe for you, Éponine, so I am just warning you to be on your guard."
"I'll..." Éponine thought about what Éléonore had said, and wasn't sure what she should say to it. So she nodded. "I'll bear that in mind," she finally said.
"I'll leave you to change," Éléonore said. "I'm taking what you just said to mean you don't mind seeing her, by the way."
"Eh, she's made me feel curious," Éponine admitted.
Éléonore pursed her lips. "Just remember what I said," she said. "I'll see you later. Just come and find me when you would like to see her."
Éléonore saw herself out, and Éponine returned to her room to change out of her simple white nightdress into the reddish brown dress that she had been given on her arrival at the Guardian's building. It occurred to her as she fiddled with its buttons that she hadn't materialised herself a new dress since being given this one. She'd managed to create herself a vast collection of different shawls, a few inspired by Prouvaire's rather colourful choices in cravats, but this one dress had remained the same.
Biting her lip, she considered conjuring herself something new – maybe something fancier, like Éléonore's, and some jewellery to go with it – it had been so long since she'd worn jewellery and nice clothes, she'd been a child – but then she remembered she was supposed to be meeting the woman. Sighing to herself, she decided she would investigate having new clothes when she had more time, and threw a yellowy-brown shawl around her shoulders before leaving her room.
Gavroche was lounging on the sofas, still clad in a nightshirt, holding Hyacinthe at arm's length above his head.
"Éléonore woke me up," he said.
"She woke me up too," Éponine said, pausing to scratch Hyacinthe's ears and ruffle Gavroche's hair. "I'm going out."
"All right," Gavroche said. "Courf said he would take me horse riding again today."
"Have fun," she said, dashing out of the flat.
Inès was hovering in the lobby of the Guardian's building when Éponine got there, looking bored and carrying a plain wooden box underneath her arm.
"You again," she said. "Are you after a job as a Guardian, or something?"
Éponine shook her head. "I'm here to see Éléonore," she said. "One of the people from beyond the river asked to see me."
"Oh, them." Inès' eyes narrowed. "I haven't met them, but you can hear their arguing from all over the place. The sooner they make them an apartment, the better."
"Yes, they weren't very quiet last night either," Éponine said.
"C'mon, I'll take you to Éléonore." Inès adjusted her grip on the box under her arm. "I think she was in her office the last time I saw her."
"What's in the box?" Éponine asked as they walked down a corridor to Éléonore's office.
"No idea," Inès said. "One of the Guardians – one of the Jeans, we have a lot of Jeans here – gave it to me and asked me to take it to another Jean, and I got very confused because he didn't specify which Jean. I really dislike Guardians, sometimes."
Éponine smiled. It was nice to see Inès being chattier than she had been; once they had broken through their mutual dislike of each other that night they were drinking Bliss she found Inès to be somewhat pleasant.
"How do you usually differentiate between Jeans?" Éponine asked out of curiosity.
"There's Tall Jean, and Small Jean, and Fat Jean, and Jean of the Pink Waistcoats, and Jean with the Cats. Oh, and there's Onion Jean – and we can never forget Little Jean, who is only five, in his body at least. Then there's John, who is actually English but gets confused with the rest. There's a few more but they're not proper Guardians or very interesting so I forget about them," Inès said, all in a rush.
"Are they nicknames everyone uses, or just you?" Éponine said, raising her eyebrows in amusement.
"Mostly everyone uses them, but Jean of the Pink Waistcoats is usually known as just Jean because he was the first Jean. But he has a stupid amount of pink waistcoats, you see."
"I did think it might be something like that," Éponine said, as they stopped outside a door. Inès didn't knock, she just walked inside.
That's when she shrieked and dropped the box in her hands. It hit the floor with a dull thud. Éponine peered around her, worried at what she might see, but it was just Éléonore, playing with one of the rings on her fingers whilst being sat opposite the elderly lady.
"Inès?" Éléonore said. "What's wrong?"
Inès had clapped a hand over her mouth, and she was backing away from the room. She hit Éponine, who moved out of the smaller girl's way.
"Inès?" the elderly woman whispered, slowly rising out of her chair.
Inès shook her head.
"Inès, what is it?" Éponine said, stepping towards her. She reached out to place a hand on Inès' shoulder, but Inès flung out her hands to stop the movement.
"That's…that's my mother," she said, in a strangled voice, and as the elderly woman took a step in her direction, Inès turned on her heel and fled down the corridor.