The two songs used are Parlez moi d'amour by Lucienne Boyer, and This wound by Léo Ferré, if you want to listen to them.
V. The Lost Days (1)
Justine Vasseur
I started hanging out with Michel in April 1920. After the war, he had spent two years in Beirut then Oran, to perfect his spells. As he had been trained in elementary magic, he only had a vague idea of more complex forms of magic. He then joined our demining brigades, led by Erwan Le Bihan. This one put him in a team with me, supposedly, because, since no one was able to support our bad characters, we could as well support each other. It was typicall from him, though he did knew Michel well. As I was a fire elemental, I took charge of the traps, he restored the earth balance.
We wondered what the hell we were doing here. Actualy, we had already cleared the Somme and defused kilometers of traps. As usual, the elementalists took care of the dirty work. Here, it was the cleaning of the territory. "Our regions need purification, and what better than a woman to do the housework", I grumbled. "It will change you from the Mediterranean. We've been doing mine clearance for two years, while you were on vacation. " I added for my teammate's attention. We were in the middle of a field, and it was raining.
"How was Egypt?
- Lots of Egyptians." He replied laconically.
It's going to be a disaster I thought immediately.
"Is it true that you fucked the son of a rabbi in Algeria?"
- What?
- Don't you know the rumors there are about you… So is it true or not?"
He just smiled.
"You're a Nancy, aren't you?
- Funny way of getting to know each other, Vasseur. It's none of your business actually.
- You're right, I was just trying to chat."
"Where are you from Vasseur?" He suddenly asked me later.
"From the North, I told him, from Lens.
- Are you a blackfaces' daughter ?
- My father worked in the mine until his death, yes.
- And your mother ?
- Gitan, she has Egyptian blood. This is how I do magic. She was never trained.
- Manure blood then?" I stiffened at first under the insult before remembering that it was the Champollion son speaking to me. "That's what they say."
In the evening, we camped in the corner of the land that we had just cleaned. Michel was a pretty boy, but he never touched me even though we shared the tent. Erwan usually avoided mixed teams so as to avoid problems. So I was sure he was queer. He cooked well, and I was in charge of the beacon. We were two complete moron though when it came to pitching a tent. That's how we started laughing together actually. At night, we worked on our ancient Egyptian. We also talked about politics.
One day, however, Arsène Lupin, the head of the interior missions, came to pick us up at the armory. "Desjardins, Vasseur, come with me, you are requisitioned. "
That was the last drop. "What, wait, but we're on leave tonight! We just took three weeks of non-stop mine clearance.
- It's fucking disgusting.
- I beg your pardon Desjardins?"
We continued to complain, of course, out of principle.
"Workers' exploitation is doing well at the Fourteenth Nome. By the way, are you going to pay overtime at the same rate, or the usual fee?
- Yeah, and when is gender equal pay?" Do not mess around too, the real problem is that. Because the magicians of the rank already earn barely more than a worker, the women receive half as much.
"Say, budding Marxists, can you mute it? It's either that or the military tribunal.
- One day we are going to call a strike, and it should come at no surprise then.
- One day, a noble magician is going to cut this ready-tongue, Champollion, and it should come at no surprise then either."
Desjardins was an annoying little shit. He drove the whole administration crazy, though they did the same to him. As a rule, he was never happy. As for me, it was going to be a welcome change after those months spent in the mud. Of course, Michel sulked. He preferred to demine, because he loved the countryside. If he could, he would have found himself a village in Larzac and raised goats there, that was some earth elementalist shit. As I handled fire, I was a bit more civilized. Chasing gangsters, this suit me well. According to Henri Dupuy, all ancient magicians families were more or less steeped in gang and parallel economy stories, this was where their fortune came from. Arsene Lupin himself was famous for having been one of the greatest burglars that France had ever known.
"So, we are investigating traffickers? Of what ? " I asked.
The three of us were walking down the street.
"Crocodiles," he answered me in the most serious way.
Michel rolled his eyes.
"What? Who buys crocodiles?" I asked.
"Poaching networks are importing crocodiles into France," Lupin explained to me. "Usually they sell them to wealthy collectors or eccentrics. One of these networks has grown to a certain extent, which intrigues us. You can do a lot of things with a crocodile.
- Ah the crocs, ah the crocs, ah the crocodiles… On the banks of the Nile, they left, let's not talk about it, sang quietly Michel."
We arrived in front of a somewhat shabby grocery store, near the Canal Saint-Martin, adjoining a warehouse.
"It's here. They're supposed to have a meeting.
- Who ?
- Providers. You will question them. Genty.
- How do we get in there? "
Michel knocked on the door:
"Police, open!"
I collapsed laughing against the wall.
"Hey, it's not serious. Hush…" We heard a metallic noise. "Ah, this is a loaded gun.
- How about we get to business?
- Listen, prepare a ball of fire, at three I will break down the door.
- Let's go !"
He kicked the door open, I threw a fireball into the air, to frighten them. The three men were gathered around the table, one of them had pointed his weapon at us, but before even having time to use it, Michel twisted his arm, retrieved the weapon and threatened the two others with it. Suddenly, the three men froze, as if time had stood still.
"But who gave me such morons! Are you nuts? This is the last time, I swear to you, that I take Elementalists on a mission. What are you looking for Desjardins?" Lupin was furious.
"Why is it always me? There were two of us, I'll remind you.
- Vasseur, what's going on? Throwing fireballs at civilians?
- I'm going on strike for a job well done, until my demands are heard ...
- Nobody cares Vasseur.
-… vote for women at the Nome!
- I was just trying to do enough silly things to get fired, but voting is good too.
- You're a suffragist Desjardins?
- Only when I cross-dress.
- You two are a real pain.
- What is the hieroglyph that you used so that they do not move?
- Professional secret.
- Don't worry Lupin, we'll find your crocodiles, I added."
We walked around the room. A fourth man stood behind the counter. Lupin looked at the open account book near the cash register. There was a staircase in the back room. I went downstairs. In a large room, about twenty crocodiles of different species were in cages. I went back up. "I found them! They're downstairs. There are at least twenty." Michel was searching the three gangsters. He pulled out a notebook, jumped onto the counter, and sat down next to Lupin.
"This kind bullshit is no more of my age," grumbled the latter. "Fireballs...
- How old are you Lupin?
- Shut up Champollion !
- I will find out anyway.
- Do you take anything seriously?
- Please, I always do my job seriously. I found their appointment book. They meet their client tomorrow. At La Baronne de Paname.
- Why there? It's a jazz club, isn't it? I wondered.
- They probably know the boss. Or the customers rather, said Lupin.
- My friend is singing over there tomorrow, said Michel.
- Do you think she has a way to get you hired?
- Better, I know the owner. What are you planning?
- I'll meet the client. Both of you will be in the room in case things turn sour.
- How do you know the owner? I was interested.
- He made his debut in my stepfather's cabaret.
- I thought you were a graduate of classical letters?
- And?
- It's a little contradictory with the cabaret or your "I love the countryside and my plants" side, right?
- What about "I am the daughter of a minor, an internationalist communist, I throw fireballs and I militate for the rights of women" while serving the interests of a colonialist, chauvinist, nationalist and misogynist republic?
- Oh, come on, keep your anarchist ideas to yourself. No wonder they take you for terrorists afterwards. You grow up with gypsies, and here is the result.
- You grew up in a mine settlement, and this the result.
- At least I didn't make infernal machines in a hooch cellar and I didn't clown to entertain the bourgeoisie.
- Let me live my contradictions in peace. At least my job does not question my political credibility.
- Because you don't have any!
- Because it's credible to be for democracy and the dictatorship of the proletariat at the same time? Especially since you are both a civil servant and against the state ...
- Why are you boring like that? You serve the Fourteenth too, and you want to be a teacher, that makes you twice an official.
- Except that I'm not making a big deal out of it, or that I am not campaigning for the abolition of classes at the same time. Look, even Lupin is laughing at you.
- Gods, I would have really liked to see you under the First Republic…
- I would have guillotined this bloody reformer.
- Thank you very much.
- Okay, come on, let's get the hell out of here, I'm going to erase these guys' memories. "
Michel Desjardins
Maybe it had been an illusion of the sun, but what seemed so clear and obvious a few months ago in Oran had become hell in Paris. "How do you do it ? Klaus had asked me. I can't, I can't, I can't just turn the page like that. I was actually wrong, I hadn't turned the page, why else was I so angry all the time? Sometimes I had the impression this anger was so thick, that it flowed in my lungs, preventing me from breathing. It was Paris too, people knew me. They spoke, they sympathized. Either called me an orphan, a war hero, or they invented things, crimes I would have committed at the front, plots. People couldn't help but comment on what I was doing.
"They are bored," Erwan warned me. "A magician of the Fourteenth is on average three hundred years old, which is rather young for Per Ankh. The dean has 1,500. For them, Champollion was yesterday, and it was damn new. It entertains the novelty. He added. "I'm putting you in a team with Justine Vasseur, she's a big mouth, but she won't hit you in the back.
- Because the others will?
- You can never know.
"The job was simple tonight. Cover Lupin while he converses with the mysterious customers. Open fire if necessary. In short, a crude job, a soldier's job, as always. Obey, strike, cleanse. I was nauseous in advance.
I had spoken to the owner who had spoken to the manager, he had taken us as an extra at the bar. I had come across Alice too. She had a good laugh. "There you go, as soon as I manage to break out of the half-blood's training camp, magicians fall on me. Don't worry, I'll sing war songs. We'll have a cancan too, if you need some diversion."
The evening was a typical evening of the Roaring Twenties. There were a lot of foreigners, Americans fleeing the Klu Klux Klan and Prohibition, aristocrats who had taken refuge from Austria, Hungary, all over the Russian Empire, Greeks and Romanians. On stage, we played a bit of everything, especially Jazz and West Indian music. People were consuming at a breakneck pace. Arsène had called the customers and was trying to pass our crocodiles on to them. We wanted to go up the chain. They had sat down at a table in the corner.
Justine and me had some success I must say. I was preparing the cocktails, she would magically ignite shots to the applause of the audience. It was a great spectacle. Personally, the best spell I knew how to do with fire magic was to light my cigarettes without a lighter. Suffice to say that I admired her.
At the same time, we were trying to watch over the room. One customer in particular caught my eye : he ordered a lot, but I noticed he was pretending to drink. Every now and then he would cast nervous glances around the room. At one point he met my gaze, squeezed something in his jacket and disappeared towards the back of the room. I let Justine in charge of the counter, and I followed him. At the same time, Alice went out to sing on stage in a long black dress. There was a great silence. She started slowly, just with the piano, her voice slowly building up. People were petrified, I slipped out of the room.
" Tell me about love
Tell me tender things again
Your beautiful speech
My heart is not tired of hearing it"
Alice was a magician of her kind. Daughter of Phébus, she was neither a soldier nor a healer. But when she sang, she bewitched with her voice, and I had seen magicians as well as demigods let themselves be taken in. They got lost, stopped, forgot all petrified by the song. She should sing on the battlefields, I thought suddenly, then shook myself from the dawning torpor. I had a man to follow.
"It is so sweet
My dear treasure, to be a little crazy
Life is sometimes too bitter
If we don't believe in chimeras "
He slipped into one of the boxes. Fortunately, this kind of place has thin walls. I went back to the lodge next door, deserted. There was a communicating door barely ajar. I saw my man in the green vest through the doorway. Another man with a long ponytail had his back to me. Twenty-six years old and I'm still listening at doors, I thought.
" So ? How is it going?
- Nothing we can do, he doesn't have the goods with him. I'll have to double check.
- You mustn't expose yourself either.
- He asks for a lot.
- The price is not a problem, arrangments can be made. Is Mad-leg still with him?
- We have to make another date. "
Maybe they're just the usual gangsters and I'm wasting my time completely. You can find everything in these kind of places, I am in a good position to know that, I couldn't help thinking.
"I can't do magic with any kind of crap." Oh, this is new.
"You will do with what we give you.
- I am a druid, not a charlatan.
- Did you talk to her?
- She tempers. She tells us that she hesitates, that she prefers to keep her distances.
- What distances, what is she talking about? Enough thinking, we gave her enough time, we're taking her with us.
- Why do you want her?
- I can't wait any longer, she knows a lot. And then she will be useful to us, she knows the high society, the politicians. She worked for Clémenceau during the war. And then, have you heard her singing?
– Go back to the room, watch that she doesn't disappear. "
I returned to the room, before he could leave the dressing room. The audience was quiet, Alice was taking a break. People were moving slowly, out of their dream. I walked back behind the counter. Justine questioned me:
" Something ?
- I am not sure…
- The boss yelled at me, he said things are starting to cool down…
- Wait, I have something." I set the glasses up in a pyramid on the counter. "I'm going to make a fountain of alcohol on top of it and you're going to set it on fire. Oh, hi Alice."
She had crept to the counter. She was so ordinary in contrast to a minute earlier when she was singing that no one recognized her.
"Is it back to the good old days? You serve me a drink and I warm the room up? Oh, you are making fountains of fire, good, I wanna see this.
- Are you the singer?" Justine widened her eyes. "It was the craziest thing I've ever heard.
- I know, Alice said. Come on boy, a whiskey, without ice.
- You're starting early.
- Oh, go on Michmich, don't be annoying! "
Justine laughed. I poured her whiskey to Alice, then poured gin over my pyramid of glasses. Justine set it on fire. Alice applauded in front of our incendiary column.
"Well, enough laughing, Justine, serve Lupin a drink and warn him that we may have to run out soon."
- Okay."
No sooner had she moved away than I turned to Alice.
"I think you're in trouble.
- No kidding, I'm always in trouble.
- Those people over there ...
- Demigods, why? Are you investigating them?
- Alice, you must not get involved into this. The guy over there, to the right in front of the door, he's an apprentice druid, he's not allowed to be in Paris. Every time Celts go to Paris, it ends up in a bloodshed.
- They are rogue half-bloods. You don't need to tell me they're dangerous.
- If they ally themselves with Celts, it presages a new war with the Romans.
- They're recruiting for now.
- And they would like to recruit you. Or kidnap you. I heard them talking, they want to wait for you at the exit. They say they're going to 'take you with them', if you see what that means.
- Michel, I have to go ...
She poured herself another glass, drank it again, speaking so quickly that I had difficulty following her.
"When I returned to Paris, before the war, I was also a rogue, remember? But it won't last, I promised Ganymede to spy on his behalf, he will help me settle my case. You must ask the Per Ankh not to charge right in there.
- Alice ...
- No, listen, it's you who must be careful… In New York… I was there a month ago, everyone only talks about that. It's a kind of war, between magicians, demigods want to take sides too, it's a big mess. I know the gang here… There is a magician who spoke to them, someone important, Kane his name was.
- Which one?
- I do not know. I was with a son of Ares and a friend, Arthur Chase. Chase knows everyone among the pantheons, I believe his mother was a Slavic magician… He said something about the Kane, like they were pharaoh blood, he spoke about Champollion, he said he had been killed during the Commune, but I don't know which Champollion he spoke of, and he said he was going to try to finish the job. He spoke about French families and the Revolution and the Per Ankh, and how they were recruiting…
- Alice, calm down. Come on, we'll finish our business right away, and you're going to go out with me, I'll take you home."
Justine returned at that moment.
"They don't give a damn about us, you see, neither the gods nor the magicians. They are not going to defend us. No Michel, I just want to sing here, I'll just go and sing."
Alice finished her drink, stood up and stormed out. I wanted to follow her and I saw Justine's face.
" What's the matter ?
- I did not find him.
- Lupin?
- No. What are we doing ?"
Alice took the stage, to applause.
"We're going to find him. He's not in the room. You do all the back kitchen, the cellars, I go to the artists' boxes. Don't take any risks especially if you find them, you observe and you call me.
- Okay, so do you."
My heart was beating wildly. The conversation with Alice had awakened something in me, a sort of alarm. All my senses were working too fast, I felt scared and alert. The people in the room were clapping wildly. I stood up, legs shaking. Alice, standing on the stage, began to sing:
"This wound
Where dies the sea like a sorrow of flesh
Where goes life to germinate in the desert "
A kind of melancholy invaded me. A desire to cry jumped at me. I saw lost days again. I had to pull myself together. "Men don't cry" he said, my father. But why were my legs like cotton? "Michel" Justine shouted, "what are you doing? "
"Which makes blood out of the cradles' whiteness
Which closes at the tomb's marble
This wound where I come from"
I shook my head, ran away. I stormed into one of the dressing rooms where the dancers were getting ready for the cancan. They howled with laughter, one of them lifted her skirt. I managed to escape in a hurricane of feathers. I was running down the hall, Alice's voice chasing me like a dagger. The orchestra followed it, trumpets sounded. I had to take a break to breathe.
"This wound
Where does my lip go at the dawn of love
Where does your fever beat like a drum
Where does your vineyard start by pressing your fingers
Where does the cry come from, the same, every time
This wound where you come from "
I passed two clowns dragging a bass drum. A little girl followed them, holding an open birdcage in her hands. I saw a staircase, I followed it and arrived in a cellar, then an underground. It was dark there, the only light was coming from the corridor above. I heard the sound of a weapon in the dark. I turned, the demigod in the ponytail was facing me. "I saw you up there. You're not staff, are you?
- Where goes the tunnel?" I tried to ignore the gun still pointed at my face.
"Arnold, it's ready. Can we get her?" A man appeared behind my back. "Who is this?"
- A spy. Whose side?
- Kill him and get the other one.
- She's still singing.
- Per Ankh, I say.
- What?
- My side. "
As surprise painted itself on the man's face, I dodged, slapped his arm, the weapon fell. He wanted to bend down to catch it. Bad choice, I grabbed him by the hair, which he had long, used his body to cover myself when the other shot me. After I blocked the bullet, I threw him at the other, grabbed the pistol from the ground, and shot him. The long haired demigod crawled over to his comrade, probably trying to get his weapon back. I grabbed him by the hair and banged his head against the wall. After a while I realized he had stopped struggling. I was panting, covered in blood, on my arms, my hands, my face. I hadn't even thought of using a single hieroglyph. I stumbled back up.
"This wound
Like a sun on melancholy
Like a garden that you only open at night
Like a perfume that hangs out with the tide
Like a smile on my destiny
This wound where I come from "
Why did I do this? I wondered over and over, moving like a sleepwalker. What is happening here ? The orchestra seemed to gain strength. The brass still sounded so loud. My blood was pounding in my veins, so hard I felt they were about to burst.
"This wound
That we would like to sew in the midst of desire
Like a seam on pleasure
That we would like to see closed forever
Like an open door to death
This wound of which I am dying "
"Desjardins, what's going on?"
Lupin came across in the corridor. He ? How?
"Demigods, there's an underground exit over there.
- There's a druid around. Block this corridor, he must not be able to escape. "
I saw Vasseur behind him. They started running again. I stood there bleeding and panting. Alice wasn't singing anymore, it was just brass, endless rumbles. Someone started blowing the whistle, and my ears were ringing too, panic engulfed me. Calm down I ordered myself. There were only whistles now, and howls. I turned around, the hallway had no windows, it was dark and long, like the pits.
I dropped to the floor holding my head, desperately trying to breathe. After all the trenches, it's still too stupid to die here in this hallway, but fucking breathe, breathe, god! My head was going to burst. I curled up in the hallway on myself. Count I ordered myself, do something, one, two, three... It was a waste of time, I felt that there was no more air, that there was nothing left at all, just the damn whistles and shells in the distance. With a start, I remembered the underground exit. Without really knowing how, I found myself there again, snuggled up in the dark. In the distance there was a breath of air, an opening. Like a desperate man I jumped into the night and the night absorbed me.