Chapter 26- Le Ministère, Revisited
...
A few days later, Marcel was awakened by tapping on the small window of the bedroom he shared with Robert. It was a bird with a rolled-up scroll of paper in its beak.
"Another letter!" he exclaimed as he jumped out of the bed and reached to try to yank the circular window open. He couldn't find a latch so he resorted to magic. When the glass disappeared, the bird- which Marcel noticed was an owl, not a dove- dropped the scroll and flew back out.
Marcel unrolled the letter and started to read it.
"Is that for you, or for me?" said Robert, now awake from the blast of chill air.
"It's to me, Robert." Marcel made an incredulous face as he read, mumbling under his breath. "This could be a setup...could be someone else in that family...he could be full of it for all I know-"
"What's going on?" Robert demanded. "Who's full of it?"
"Here, mon ami, hold this letter while I get up and dress. It's from an old childhood friend of mine. I have to get hold of a Mirror and talk to him right away. If this is true, he might be the help we need to go back and win the war!"
"How many damned people are you in conspiracy with? Can I help?"
"Maybe. But I have to talk to Agathe and Aloysius first."
Marcel hastily put on a pair of breeches and tucked his blouse in them. He took the letter back from Robert and sped out of the room, in search of Agathe and Aloysius.
Soon afterward, he contacted that letter writer by using Aloysius' Magic Mirror. Adelaide grew worried as she watched him run upstairs from the kitchen with it, bringing it into his bedroom.
"Marcel, can you please tell me what you're doing?" Adelaide said. The door upstairs slammed as he shut himself in alone. Adelaide went to listen at the door, not caring whether or not eavesdropping was rude. She heard him speaking lightheartedly at first to what sounded like a friend, then in a low, serious tone with the faraway person on the other end. Adelaide started to press her ear to the door.
"If you're with Claude, let me talk to him right now to prove it-"
Adelaide was wondering who 'Claude' was, when suddenly her ears began to fill with loud harpsichord music- so loud it was painful. She clapped her hands over her ears and rushed down the stairs to where Sabine and Celeste sat in the dining room.
"Who is playing that harpsichord?" she exclaimed, fingers in her ears. It didn't seem to help. The music sounded like it was playing inside her brain itself.
"No one, Mademoiselle," said Sabine. "There aren't any harpsichords to be found here."
Agathe and Aloysius came into the room to join them. "Good morning ladies, I will gladly take one of those croissants, they smell wonderful." Aloysius greeted.
Robert joined them a moment later. "Madame, I was helping your husband lift and carry some furniture. Not with magic, with my arms, of course!" he told Sabine.
"Merci, Monsieur Lefebrve," said Sabine. "I am sure Hami appreciates your help. You do look like you would make a good carpenter. Or a stonemason, who could lift heavy bricks."
The loud music in Adelaide's head stopped, once the room was filled with lively people and Marcel was still talking to someone upstairs. Had her dear fiancé actually cursed her? It was an amusing kind of curse, more what the Enchanteds called a 'hex.' She deserved it for trying to eavesdrop.
After they ate and drank tea for some time, Marcel came running down the stairs. He'd lost the humor and happiness that dominated his mood the last three days. His look of fiery determination and stress made Adelaide's heart sink.
"I'm taking my coach and flying back to Paris!" he announced. "I have to meet with two of our allies. We planned a mission. Who's willing to join me?" He looked to Adelaide and noticed her distraught look. "Not you, my love. You must stay here."
Adelaide's blood boiled. "What mission?" she exclaimed. "Whatever it is, I am not being left behind with no chance to return home to my family!"
The next several minutes were filled with a heated argument- shouting, tears, and debate. Marcel was hesitant to reveal details, for fear of someone watching and listening to them by Mirror or crystal ball. As a result, Agathe used her power of Lecteur d' Esprit. She learned the entire mission without Marcel needing to say a word.
Agathe and Aloysius had their say in the matter. Aloysius' wisdom could not be argued with. He knew what it felt like to lose the love of his life. He'd lived more years than he had left, and he did not want the young couple to be doomed. He sided with Adelaide.
Like a judge, Aloysius had the final word. Marcel deferred to the idea of the two cousins. He could trust their powers and abilities- trust them with his life.
…
In Paris, the senior Le Ministère officer, Nicholas-Armitage Roux, walked with a bowed head across the grand atrium of the headquarters building. He'd sensed the news even before the truth was confirmed in his Mirror earlier that week.
Sauvageon died in battle. Struck with a Transformation curse, almost identical to the one his notorious aunt Agathe was known for. He'd toppled off his broom from the shock and fell into the deep sea somewhere over the English Channel, never to be recovered.
Three other agents- Volant, Gage, and one of the Travers clan, were also casualties in the encounter with those rebels. Brutal, Roux thought. These people were not to be trifled with.
Minister Bartholomé Bertrand had come out of the mind-altering curse that Alexis set upon him. When Roux saw that Bertrand was recovering his wits and his eloquent and poised manner of speech, pestering Roux with questions, the officer knew something was wrong. The caster of the curse must have ceased to be. And when Roux searched for Alexis' whereabouts and fate, his oracle did not lie.
Roux recalled being forced to take a class long ago, when he had to read about Sans-Magies of the past, the old history of their societies and how it paralleled the Enchanteds in nearly every way. He was reminded of similarities between the story of Julius Caesar of ancient times, and what Sauvageon had planned. Alexis, in his arrogance, wanted to be the Brutus figure and topple the crown.
Now, Roux hoped to continue casting the mind curses on his 'Lord' indefinitely, but he would have to hurry and do it correctly this moment. Perhaps the old man needed something more finalized than just having his mind turned into that of a young child's...
Roux entered Bertrand's office. He found the bald-pated wizard alone, furiously writing with a quill and parchment. Roux immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the carpet as usual.
"Good morning, my Lord Minister."
"As you must know, my betrayer is dead."
"Betrayer?" Roux feigned innocence.
"You were in on it!" the small old wizard raged, slamming his pen down and gripping his wand and Magic Mirror he kept on his desk. He pointed the wand at Roux threateningly. "You knew exactly what he was doing! You mocked and humiliated me along with him. You supported Sauvageon's cursing my mind, and you both thought you could keep up the charade until he either killed me or deemed me unfit to rule! I trusted both of you, and this is how you treat me?"
Roux sucked in a breath and decided to speak his mind.
"Sauvageon treated you much better than you treated my sister-in-law Madeleine. And as far as Sans-Magies are concerned, I think we ought to learn from them, 'Lord Minister.' How they handle tyrants, for one!"
He began to extend his hand to perform a deadly wandless attack- but he was too late.
Bertrand was silently saying the incantation of the death curse with his wand still pointed. A green beam shot from his wand into Roux's heart. Nicolas-Armitage Roux crumpled to the ground, still and lifeless.
Bertrand rose from his desk, took a second to kick the body, and demanded the Summons of every person in the building.
Within moments, every room, corridor, hall in Le Ministère headquarters was filled with the magically-amplified sound of Bartholomé Bertrand's gentle, fatherly voice. The gigantic image of his bug-eyed homely face appeared on every wall to be seen.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my friends. Je suis désolé. I am incredibly saddened to inform you that there was an attempt to depose me. Traitors are in our midst. I am now locking the doors from the outside as we speak. Please listen to my directions."
In the great open atrium of the building, a large crowd of agents, workers, visiting wizards and enchantresses loyal to Le Ministère's new order milled about. They flinched at the sound of door bolts slamming and clicking. All four double doors in the foyer were sealed shut. Bertrand's face loomed large, projected upon the foyer's west wall.
"I ask all of you to form a queue and walk in a single file up here, to the fifth floor, where I shall receive you and greet you individually. I shall then ask that you touch my wand to prove your allegiance. Anyone who is a traitor will feel the wand to be as hot as fire, as I have set it with a Loyalty charm. If that happens, my friends, or shall I say enemies...I will decide your fate. That fate will be death, the manner up to me. Decide now to pledge your devotion. If you are not a French citizen, if you are foreign, it does not matter. You pledge to me. There is no turning back."
The people- mostly men, and a few enchantresses in elegant full skirted gowns, obeyed and started to form a line. The wizards and enchantresses nearest the grand staircase began to walk up.
For minutes afterward the line progressed. People ascended the staircases, joined by countless others on the higher floors of the palatial building. The great atrium floor plan of Le Ministère allowed all to see the movements of the crowds, and Bertrand's face was projected here and there- visible on every level like an all-knowing god.
When the first people in line reached the fifth floor, they proceeded into the hallway that led directly to Bertrand's office.
Most of the people were calm and assured, happy to rid their leader of traitors. They were behind their Lord Minister all the way, the fatherly man who would purge France and the Enchanted World of undesirables, once and for all.
...
Among the people walking soberly in line was a wizard named Jerome Roux, the younger brother of Nicolas. His wife Madeleine was one of the 'Sang-Sales' whom Bertrand had ordered to be slowly starved in prison.
A week before, his wife took ill in her glass cell in La Maison de Crimes Noirs and died. Jerome, a quiet fellow and good worker, was forgiven of wrongdoing for having a 'Sang-Sale' wife. He was allowed to keep his respectable job at the Ministry, working in the Department of the Control of Enchanted Creatures.
As the crowd wound up the staircases to the second level in the atrium, Jerome slipped a hand in his coat pocket. He quietly pulled out his Magic Mirror.
"What are you doing?" whispered the man lined up in front of him.
"I must keep on my assignment, Armand," Jerome replied in a soft tone. "There's been a report of uncontrolled dragons not far from the city. A matter that cannot wait. Excusez-moi, I will keep my voice low."
"Very well, then," said the man named Armand, turning back to face the people in the queue before him, then turning his gaze to one of the unescapable, projected images of Bertrand's looming face. He was eerily smiling, mouthing people's names, but his voice was now unamplified.
"My brother," Jerome whispered, turning his body to a wall so no one nearby could see the glowing image in his Mirror.
He let out a quiet intake of breath when he saw Nicolas' pale face and crumpled body on the floor of Bertrand's office.
He whispered the spell to take away that image, and decided this was the best moment to use his Mirror to contact someone on the outside. As he'd told Armand, he was still working, of course. Dealing with the control and movements of dragons.
"Desjardins!" he commanded into his Mirror.
The face of a blue-eyed man named Claude Desjardins formed in Jerome's Mirror, responding to the call with a just-barely-audible "Allo?"
"Dragon Fire," Jerome said to the Mirror.
"Oui. Feu du Dragon," Desjardins replied with a nod.
Jerome Roux sighed sadly as he put the Mirror back into his pocket. He would have to secretly grieve for his brother and for Madeleine.
The great atrium, staircases and corridors of the Ministry headquarters were almost completely silent, though people continued to file slowly upstairs. A few began to come down from the top floor. They'd already greeted Minister Bertrand; touched his wand to prove their loyalty.
The quiet was broken when cries and horrified screams were heard from the fifth floor. Jerome and his nearby companion, Armand, shuddered.
Bertrand had identified the first disloyal person forced to touch his wand and executed them on the spot. People became more unnerved, each wondering if their hearts were with their leader or not.
Jerome kept his eyes on the high sunroof window. He could see something descending from the sky. He ducked away from the stair railing to the inner wall.
The glass ceiling exploded.
A great, winged, coral pink and scarlet dragon burst into the atrium. It snarled and whipped its tail before breathing jets of flame over the top level of the building. Smoke and people's screams filled the air.
The multiple images of Minister Bertrand's face disintegrated, marking the very moment when the dictator perished.
Broken glass shards rained down, injuring those who happened to stand in the dragon's path. After incinerating the upper floor, the dragon descended, wings spread wide until it landed on the bottom floor. A man was riding upon it.
...
"E.R.A!" shouted the man astride the dragon, his voice magically amplified.
He was a young man in his mid-twenties, wearing a protective breastplate and black cloak. He rode the dragon by gripping the edge of one of her scales, gracefully bucking to her movements as if she were a wild stallion horse.
"Listen to me!" he announced. "My name is Andre Tomas Rosier, of the Pureblood Rosier clan! The Enchanted Rebel Army of France invites you all to support freedom, or perish!"
The crowd screamed again as two more dragons, bearing human riders, flew through the gaping hole in the ceiling. They descended and landed next to the bright-colored one ridden by Monsieur Rosier.
The rider of the olive-green dragon was a man named Claude Desjardins, a talented dragon handler. When Jerome called from a Mirror, he'd given him, Rosier, and their two companions the signal to ambush Le Ministère.
Desjardins, a Sans-Magie born wizard, happened to have a late sister- Madeleine Roux, nee Desjardins. She was the Madeleine who died in prison, the reason Jerome Roux decided to conspire with them.
Andre Rosier and Claude Desjardins were longtime friends of Marcel Clement.
Marcel was in communication with both men that morning. It wasn't until Andre proved he was with Claude and the dragons that Marcel believed he was loyal.
...
People trembled and begged for mercy while another fire-breathing dragon flew in.
The third dragon was a long-necked golden creature. It held two riders side by side, both wearing protective armor and gripping a harness attached to its back. One was a beautiful blonde woman. The other was a lanky, youthful fellow with long dark hair. The madly lashing creature, just like the first two, blew hot smoke through its nostrils at the frightened crowd.
The riders were Agathe and Aloysius. They'd put themselves under Age-Shifting spells to stay strong and agile, to endure the physical bone-jarring of their very first dragon flight.
The two had taken Marcel's coach to fly back across the English Channel into France once more. Their first stop was Claude Desjardins' secret dragon sanctuary in a dense forest. There, the four members of the E.R.A. waited for Jerome Roux's signal to take flight to Paris for the attack.
Agathe, who now appeared to be in her early twenties, pulled off her protective helmet and let her long golden hair fall loose, gazing with judgment at everyone.
"It's Agathe Sauvageon!" a few people in the crowd mumbled, recognizing her from the newspaper articles and portraits from the past two years.
"What is SHE doing here? Disgraceful!"
"The most lawless Enchantress in our age is here! Stop her!"
"What is Sebastien Rosier's son doing? The Rosiers are great purebloods! Why did HE join the traitors?"
"Someone curse them all to death!"
But no one among the hundreds dared to lay a wand or finger on any of the dragon riders. Their 'Lord Minister' had just been turned into ash upstairs.
"You're being given a chance to surrender. Liberty and freedom is for everyone!" shouted Andre Rosier. His bright pink and scarlet dragon used its front horns to smash one of the locked doors open.
"We ask you all to stop this cruelty to your fellow wizards," Rosier continued. "Minette, are you here?" He glanced among the crowds, looking for his sister.
"Andre!" a young brunette woman cried, breaking away from the line and descending down a staircase, holding up the skirts of her voluminous green gown. Frightened, she huddled near others, keeping her distance from the dragons.
"I just want you to be safe, Minette. Are Corvus and Falco here?" Andre asked, referring to his sister's new husband, and his brother, a professional player for the Faucons.
"Non, they are on a trip to Greece."
"Then when they return, I want you to tell them that things are going to change here in France, starting today," Andre said in a firm tone. "Remember, my dear sister- if you cannot find a path, make one."
Minette nodded tearfully. Andre turned his gaze from his sister, to everyone in the massive atrium.
"My allies and I will allow you to walk through this door in peace. If you continue this hate, trying to kill my friends just because of their blood and birth, you chose your own doom. Incidentally, my friend Mademoiselle Agathe here has the power to read into minds and hearts. She can transform you into beasts, rats, worms- even pieces of furniture- at her will. Mademoiselle, do you have anything to say?"
"Thank you, Monsieur Rosier," said Agathe, her voice amplified. The golden dragon lowered itself to the ground. Agathe and the young-looking Aloysius dismounted. "Please walk in single file past us, and out the door," said Agathe. "It is my hope that all of you are able to leave this place with kind, unhateful hearts. I will be looking at each of you, giving you my judgment as you pass me. Please search your hearts, and choose peace."
"Walk in single file to the door, ladies and gentlemen!" Rosier commanded, gesturing to the group of people nearest the open door where Agathe now stood, waiting.
...
A.N.- I hope you are handling things the best you can with the worry and changes to your lives because of that nasty coronavirus! Please stay healthy out there.
And Easter Eggs! Nicolas' middle name was no random choice. It's in honor of a certain Heel-Face-Turn character in another fandom, who deserved better. ;) Check my profile favorites for some Star Wars fix-it fics if you wish. Another Easter Egg- Some members of the Rosier family are good! I love the 'hero from an evil family' trope.
