"'Find the Lancer', she said… 'It'll be easy', she said… But of course she's not the one wandering around a city of ten million, looking for one!" Tanja groaned, shaking her head ruefully, and held her hand up to shade her eyes against the brilliant afternoon sun beating down on her from above and reflecting off of the glass windows of the buildings lining the street. She had been at it for days, it felt like. Her feet were starting to feel sore from the constant walking. Yesterday, she had started her search at the Eiffel Tower – the last place that she had seen the Lancer, before all of this started. But apart from the distinct smell of camembert coming off of the grass closest to the Eiffel Tower, she had found nothing to even indicate that the fight had happened last Friday night. All she had noticed walking the river this morning had been a houseboat with music coming from it, motoring upstream.
Tanja let out a breath, frowning, and glanced down the side street she was passing. Another line of apartment buildings, most of them newly rebuilt after the Tarasque's rampage three months ago. A group of girls a little younger than Tanja sat around a table in front of a café. Furrowing her brows, Tanja started down the street in that direction, examining the girls' faces carefully. Pausing by a bus stop, she pulled out her phone and flicked through the pictures she had found of Aurore Beauréal and her friends. Lila had given her a few names to start from, and she'd known where a couple of them had lived – or at least where they had lived before the Tarasque had disrupted everything in the city. Glancing back up at the group of girls, Tanja studied one of them specifically. Tall, tanned skin, long dark hair that almost turned purple in the light… Tanja pursed her lips. The girl looked like one of Aurore Beauréal's friends… Steeling herself, Tanja held the phone up to her ear and nodded, walking down the street past the café, watching the group out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm telling you," the girl was saying, looking around at the others, "this summer is our last chance to really do things together, you know? When university starts, we'll be busy with that. And then next summer–"
The girl next to her, a shorter girl with an olive complexion, scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Next summer we won't be too busy to hang out together," she interjected. "Sure, we might have summer jobs, but what else is new. We'll still find the time for it."
"True," a third girl agreed, blonde with pixie-cut hair, nodding slowly, "but I wouldn't say no to taking a trip together. Where did you have in mind, Éliane?"
Éliane leaned forward, grinning. "So I heard that Bordeaux is having a wine festival next week."
The second girl raised an eyebrow dubiously. "Doesn't seem like the right time of year for it."
"I think it's supposed to be a celebration of sorts since the Tarasque is gone," Éliane explained, waving a hand dismissively. "I was thinking that we could go down there for a day or two. Tour a winery…"
The blonde shrugged. "Why not? I've never been to a winery before. Who all were you thinking about asking?"
Éliane hummed pensively. "Do you think Mireille would be interested?"
"Isn't she working during the week, though?"
"We can ask Valèrie!"
Tanja cocked her head and continued on past them, listening intently for more names. "'Mireille'…" she murmured to herself, glancing back toward the group she had just passed, only for a couple of them to stand up and break up, all walking in different directions. Tanja let out a heavy sigh and watched for a long moment, until two of the three were out of sight, leaving Éliane as the only one still visible. With a shrug, Tanja turned around and sped up, rushing to keep up with Éliane as she moved through the crowd, walking in the general direction of the river. Double checking the map on her phone, Tanja nodded to herself as Éliane led her past a lycée – the same one that Aurore Beauréal had attended. Tanja glanced in either direction, studying the faces around her for any sign of Aurore Beauréal. Three or four people were on the school grounds, but none matched the description. By the time Tanja had finished her check, Éliane was already half a block away, moving the same direction she had been going. Hurrying, Tanja pushed her way through the traffic until she was only a few meters behind Éliane.
A slight movement from her purse pulled Tanja's attention down to where a pair of small antlers were just visible poking out of the purse. Hernn folded his arms, looking up at her intently.
Tanja sighed. "Don't tell me you disapprove," she muttered.
The Kwami shrugged. "I am simply wondering why we are hunting this person, rather than anyone else. What is her crime?"
Tanja frowned. "It doesn't matter. I need to find her if we're going to rescue Marta from the prison."
"And this is the only option available to rescue Marta?" Hernn raised an eyebrow.
"What are you getting at?"
Hernn shrugged. "Not every hunt is so straightforward."
Tanja hummed. "Unfortunately, this one appears perfectly straightforward: find the hero and get our friend back."
"Of course," Hernn pointed out, "sometimes a hunter can become so focused on the obvious that she misses something more valuable."
"If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears," Tanja grumbled, scanning the crowd ahead of her as she passed a park opposite a collège. She frowned, searching the faces for the Éliane's hair, sticking out of the crowd, but she had lost her. Gritting her teeth, Tanja let out a groan, suppressing the urge to smack the electric pole she was walking past. She'd lost her lead. With a last look, she stopped, leaning against the fence around the park, and looked back down at her phone, double checking which locations she had already visited. She had just passed the lycée. She had walked through the neighborhood where Aurore Beauréal had grown up. Lila had known the apartment building where Aurore Beauréal was now living, but she hadn't seen any trace of her or her roommate Mireille in the neighborhood. A phone call to the TV station where she worked had come up empty, as had a walk through the university campus where she was supposed to study. The river, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre where one of her friends worked… Nothing. As best Tanja could tell, Aurore Beauréal had just… vanished – like all of Tanja's leads.
Of course, who wouldn't want to vanish under these circumstances? Aurore Beauréal might not have known that Tanja – among others – was searching for her, but after the madness from last week, she had to be confused and afraid. Cerna and the Lancer had fought below the Eiffel Tower, even if only in passing. Then, near the end of the fight, she had noticed the Lancer and la Gymnaste standing off to the side, not doing anything. At the time, Cerna hadn't thought much of it; the fight had been chaotic enough. But what had been going on with them? She shrugged. That was a question for Lila… but she wasn't going to ask it.
Finally, Tanja glanced around her at the collège and park, along with the bakery across the street. She furrowed her brows on looking up at the collège sign: Collège François Dupont. Her eyes widened. Lila had mentioned this school as one that Aurore Beauréal had attended, years ago – the place where Lila had first met her. She sighed. It was a long shot, but what else did she have at the moment? With school out for the summer, only a handful of people were visible on the campus grounds across the street – a couple of gardeners and someone who might have been a teacher, along with a kid sitting on the front steps who might have been in collège. No Aurore. Behind Tanja in the park were several families with small children, along with a group of collège-aged children riding on the carousel. No one even close to Aurore's age. With a sigh, Tanja finally turned toward the bakery on the third corner. A steady stream of customers walked in and out of the bakery, most of them holding bags and boxes with the logo on the window printed on them. A small group of girls around the same age as Aurore Beauréal entered the bakery, chatting and laughing excitedly. Tanja shrugged.
It was worth a shot.
The chime above the door dinged cheerily as Tanja stepped inside, blinking to adjust her eyes to the relative dimness inside after the bright sunshine on the street. The group of teens had taken a table on the far side of the café, close to the display window, while an older couple stood in front of the counter discussing a cake order. A girl of no more than ten was rearranging the pastries in the display under the watchful eye of an older woman, while a dark-haired girl who appeared to be lycée or university age rang up the couple with the cake order. Tanja stood back, waiting for the couple to leave, examining the pastries as she waited, trying to listen in on the conversation on the far side of the room. Sniffing the air, her mouth began to water. Growing up, Tanja's parents had rarely gotten her such treats; after their deaths, she had never been able to eat fresh pastries. However, one of the bakeries in Oslo had placed their two-day-old pastries outside near the dumpster at the end of business every day, and she had regularly picked through them for scraps. After she had found her miraculous, it had become easier to find fresh food – she could just ask the rats living in the alley to sneak into the bakery and bring a few cookies and skillingsboller out to her. But it hadn't been until she arrived in Paris that she had been able to actually walk into a bakery and buy food for herself.
"Can I help you?" asked the girl behind the counter, stirring Tanja out of her reverie.
Tanja jumped, refocusing her attention on her surroundings to find herself at the front of the line. "Oh! Sorry about that… just thinking about how tasty all your pastries look."
The girl smiled proudly. "My Papa is a really good baker!" she acknowledged. "One of the best in Paris! You won't find anything in here that isn't absolutely amazing! So, what can I get for you?"
"Actually…" Tanja pursed her lips, examining the girl carefully. She wasn't going to get anywhere if she didn't start asking questions. Steeling her nerves, she asked, "I was wondering if you might know my cousin Aurore."
The girl cocked her head in confusion, her eyes narrowing as she examined Tanja. Tanja stared back at her calmly – based on the pictures she'd found online, her hair color and Aurore's were at least close enough for them to pass as relatives, as were their skin tones. Their facial features were different, but that shouldn't be a problem… She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm. Finally, after a brief moment, the girl shrugged. "Sorry; I haven't really kept in touch with Aurore since the Tarasque was defeated. Were you supposed to meet her here?"
Tanja's shoulders slumped. "Shoot. I just got into town; I was hoping to surprise her, but she wasn't home and no one seems to know where she is. I hoped maybe she stopped in here sometimes."
"I mean, she did back in collège," the girl answered, giving her a sympathetic look. "We were in the same year in school, and she was nice enough of course. But, well, she had her friends and I had mine, so we didn't exactly hang out a lot."
Tanja sighed heavily, looking around the bakery. "That's too bad. Any idea where she might go during the day?"
The girl shrugged. "Maybe you could try the Trocadero? I do remember a lot of times she would spend afternoons there."
Tanja hummed. "Maybe I'll try there," she decided, nodding slowly. "It can't hurt."
"Sorry I couldn't help any more than that." The girl frowned. "Can I get you anything from the bakery counter?"
Tanja pursed her lips, studying the display. "Maybe a couple of éclairs."
"Coming right up!" The girl picked two éclairs off the top of the stack and placed them in a bag.
Tanja pulled a few bills out of her purse to pay for the treats. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Marinette."
"Nice to meet you." Dropping one of the éclairs into her purse for Hernn, Tanja bit into the other one as she left the bakery, the pastry, cream and chocolate exploding in her mouth. She smiled, nodding in appreciation, and popped the whole thing into her mouth. Turning in either direction, she scanned the street in both directions for any sight of Aurore Beauréal's distinctive blonde hair. But though she could see dozens of blondes on the street, none of them were her. She frowned. Stopping here hadn't been as productive as she had hoped. Her mouth set in a thin line. But at least now she had a lead.
