"Fine," she announced.
Azelma looked at her, "what?" she asked sourly.
"We'll go."
Her heartbeat quickened, "Where?"
"We need to find him again."
Find him? Azelma thought. Eponine did not seem to be acting like her usual self. At any other time, she would expect her sister to either argue until she found something better to do, or to angrily agree to do what the other person wanted. Even when she did agree, she performed the job half heartedly, and would mutter about how terrible it was. Azelma had not expected Eponine to change her mind. Or was 'change her mind' the right phrase? Come to think of it, she may just want to shout at Gavroche some more, but somehow Azelma doubted it.
"But," she began, "why?"
Eponine gave a harsh, guttural laugh. "Why? So I need a reason, now? I had no reason before for not wanting to go there. And," she added, "if it's my idea too then it won't be 'im getting his way."
A particularly sharp gust of wind slapped them in a mocking fashion. Eponine felt exactly how soaked her skirt was when it touched her skin. Azelma attempted again to figure out what had gotten into her sister, but Eponine avoided the questions. She would simply laugh, and give a pointless reply with no meaning. Did she ever mean to answer the questions? Not before she could figure out why she had changed her mind herself. No, she would not admit to having her opinion being swayed. Let Azelma talk herself out. She began to walk, and her sister had no choice but to follow.
Troubles burned inside her. She wondered how she was going to explain to Gavroche why she suddenly agreed with him. Well, she still did not exactly want to go to Montfermeil of all places, and she planned to find a way to sidestep the village. It was safe to say that he had no clue how to find it, and she for one could not remember the full way. The move from Montfermeil to Paris had been sudden, and she had been too worried about leaving all she knew behind to care about the route of travel.
Yes, that was the answer. She would lead them the wrong way. But then what? Did she want to end up lost on some endless field? She would be with Azelma and Gavroche, too. She had never thought much of responsibility, other than when doing jobs for her father. Even then she tended to forget what she was supposed to do. 'Forget' was not quite the right word, though. She had learned that if she put something at the back of her mind, she could convince herself, and others, that she really had forgotten. If a slight feeling of disappointment remained, a feeling that she could have done better, she ignored it.
Could returning to Montfermeil really be that bad? If anything, it was Paris which concealed the real memories of horror. There were things she had done which were so terrible that they had eaten away at her mind, until all she could do was laugh about them half-heartedly. But there was some form of terror of Montfermeil which came not from what had happened there, but what she had been. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, she knew that what she really feared was being reminded of what she had become.
They travelled back, deeper into Paris. They used a different route this time, one with more people and shops. Azelma couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling as they turned back on the road they had originally taken. It was like going backwards.
"'Ponine, d'you know where he normally goes? Just a daily place or street, I mean," Azelma asked, after they had been walking speechlessly for what she thought was long enough.
Eponine laughed, "Why would I? Sometimes I went outside at night, you know, when all the people had left. I'd see a couple of gamins running here an' there, an' they'd all be acting as if they know the place better than any bourgeois who's lived there more than thirty years. There's no particular place for them, but I watched them long enough to figure that they like the large streets. You know, lots of carts standing about, and plenty of shelter. There isn't nothing like a good old corner to sleep in."
Azelma sighed. She had never gone outside alone, but she did have a slight idea of where to look from her sister's vague description. She hardly knew Gavroche, let alone where his haunts were. But Eponine sounded sure enough of where to go, and Azelma knew that she was smart enough not to lead them too close back to the Gorbeau tenement. And so she followed her sister.
The darkness of the sky increased, and the world was veiled. Silence stalked the two girls wherever they went, like a predator threatening to pounce. For only when a predator is silent, not when it howls, is it really on the hunt. They made their way down one street, and then the next. The pace was determined, and they only stopped or slowed if they heard a sound, and then they would continue walking. Such a city can become a maze in the dark, even to those who know it. They did not lose their way, they would only occasionally realise a mistake, and say "Wait! I remember a street back there where he could be," and head off in the other direction.
A bird called. It was not the light cry of a morning bird, for it was still night. The haunting cry swept over the rooftops, and could have made many a child sleeping in a home wake up and shiver. The girls ignored it, though. They were too immersed in their search for their brother to think of anything else. They were far from worried about him, but still their frustration had built up to a considerable level. Since it was night, they had agreed not to separate in their search, more on Azelma's account than anything else. A faint shuffling could be heard. Probably rats, Eponine thought.
As they neared the end of the street, the shuffling was louder, and more pronounced. Soon it ceased to advance, but then more shuffling began again. The producers of the shuffling had not departed, they meant to remain. When they were several feet from the corner, Azelma stopped. She grabbed at her sister's hand to stop her. Had they grown up differently, Eponine would have uttered a word of annoyance at her sister's sudden halt. But she was too familiar with the dangers of Parisian streets, and stopped without a word.
"Gamins?" Azelma inquired, her voice the lightest whisper. She had become accustomed to speaking in such a low volume since moving to Paris.
"No", Eponine also spoke in the voice which was hardly distinguishable from silence. Having many times been sent on watch for their father's business, they conversed freely in this almost inaudible way. She raised her head to listen for a moment, "Men."
They froze. The question of Montparnasse or another of the men who were hired by their father arose. But at this moment their greatest fear was of other men who walked in darkness, men which they did not know. The shuffling continued, and Azelma was thankful for the snow, which had given away the men before they had turned into the corner. The noise was definitely men, she decided, having often been around her father's 'friends'.
The noise continued, and the girls waited patiently. Azelma, being the younger, had often been given the more stationary jobs from her father, and if there was any doubt about waiting her fear told her otherwise. Eponine stood still with her feet planted firmly on the ground, but after a while she began to fiddle with strands of her hair. Azelma whispered a word to tell her sister to concentrate, soon gave up when it was apparent that the only way to make her sister listen to her was to raise her voice.
Her breath caught in her throat when coarse whispers came to her. The men clearly though they were alone, as they spoke fairly loudly. The voices were all harsh, and difficult to distinguish. It could have been just two men talking, but both girls guessed otherwise.
"Alright, who's 'ere?"
"Everyone you asked."
"Everyone?"
Eponine tensed, and stood still. The word 'everyone' meant that there were more men than even she had feared.
"Yeah, we got word around fast. All this snow, and not half as much to do as normal."
"Renaud, I thought you weren't coming."
"Change of plan, I 'ad to give up on some business when an idiot of a man changed 'is mind. A whole day's work for nothing."
"If I were you I'd teach that man a lesson about the way we work."
"Sure, but what would I 'ave got out of it? He meant to pay me with part of what I got from the job."
"Right, listen. Did we come 'ere to discuss our lives or to do business? I don't need to know what happened to you today, we're here to discuss what we'll do tomorrow…"
