CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

THE BOOK OF WANDERINGS

Boredom hit Marinette one particularly cold day, so she decided to hit the library for more books.

She arrived to see that the small door was halfway open, indicating the presence of another visitor inside.

Smiling, Marinette strode into the massive chamber, which had rows of painted shelves on all sides and tiny ladders that could slide along the edges to reach the higher shelves. There were only few windows in the library, obviously to prevent the books from getting too much sun, but there was a small fireplace to warm the room if needed. Intricate stone columns lifted the arched ceiling, which portrayed a gorgeous art piece of constellations and the phases of the moon.

A cozy space with an open feel to it.

"Hello?" Marinette called softly into the library. "Cat? Are you here?"

If he was here, he didn't respond. Maybe he's busy reading, Marinette thought. Then again, those large ears of his would have heard her coming down the hall.

Marinette poked her around the stacked shelves as she proceeded further into the library. But it wasn't until she reached the small corner on the far end when she finally spotted her friend.

She gasped, her feet pining to the floor.

Cat Noir stood before a small lectern near one of the reading tables, his eyes closed and a hand pressed against the page of the large, worn-out book before him. But the part that had shocked Marinette was the golden dust emitting from the book. It twisted around Cat Noir's wrist and arm in winding ribbons, which continued to flow like little rivers as they joined him and the book together. His expression was the epitome of serenity, as though he was in the middle of a wonderful dream.

It didn't ease the rising alarm inside Marinette, and she rushed over to him. "Cat? Can you hear me?" she said, raising her voice. She shook him by the shoulder, but he didn't stir.

Panic struck Marinette. What kind of book was this? Was it part of the curse? What was it doing to him?

She tried to pull her friend's hand away from the book, but it remained stuck there like frozen molasses.

"Wake up!" Marinette cried, shaking him again. "Cat Noir – answer me!"

At once, the ribbons of gold slid back inside the book, and Cat Noir opened his eyes, glancing around worryingly. He stopped the moment he laid eyes on her. "Marinette? What happened? Is everything all right? I heard you yelling!"

"You…" Marinette almost sank to the floor at seeing him back to his old self again. "What was… Where did you go?! I came in here and saw you like this and you were just standing there and I got worried when you didn't –!"

Cat Noir lifted his hands up. "Whoa, slow down, Milady. I'm all right. I was never in any danger. I was just…" He glanced down at the book with a shrug. "… taking a little trip."

Marinette gaped at him. "A little… what?" Did that weird golden dust cloud his brain?

Cat Noir laughed and placed his hands on both her shoulders. "I'm sorry if I scared you. But I assure you, I'm one-hundred percent back to my usual, charming self." His grin broadened. "But it's sweet that you were fretting so much over little old me."

Marinette tried not to blush too heavily, and she glared down at the checkerboard floor just to avoid eye-contact with him. "I wasn't… I… Just…" Her tone grew stern. "Next time, warn me when you're going to play around with magic, okay?"

"Cat's honour," her feline friend exclaimed, lifting a hand in a boy scout salute and laying the other on his heart.

Satisfied, Marinette lifted her gaze to the strange book on the lectern. She circled around it to get a better look. "What were you reading?" she asked.

To her surprise, the book didn't have any words or pictures: just two blank sheets of gold-dusted paper bordered with twisting vines and swirls of ink.

Cat Noir let Marinette examine it while he leaned against the nearby table. "I wasn't so much reading as I was looking," he said. "This book… I'm sure you've noticed its not like all the others."

"The thought crossed my mind," Marinette said dryly as she traced the crisp lining of the pages. "Another gift from the fairies?"

"No. This book belonged to my mother. My father gave it to her as a wedding gift."

Marinette paused and looked at him. "Really?"

Cat Noir nodded. "It's called The Peripeteia," he explained, "but I like to call it the Book of Wanderings. My mother had always wanted to travel; to see the world. But since she was a –" He cleared his throat. "Um… well, let's just say she was busy with other things in life. So, my father gave her this to help her visit the places she wanted to see."

Marinette's heart skipped a beat. "It can… take you wherever you want to go?" Immediately, she thought about her home in Villeneuve, seeing her mother and father again.

"Yes and no," Cat Noir replied. "The book doesn't actually take you to the place you want to go. It's more like… like being in a dream. Your body remains here, but your spirit is able to travel to the location. However, you're not technically there, so other people can't see, hear or touch you." He scrunched his lip, and his voice turned bitter. "My father… Sometimes I wonder if he meant to give this book as a cruel joke, to remind my mother that she could never truly be free."

That was such a sad thought, Marinette couldn't help but wonder. "Was your father really that bad?"

Cat Noir sighed heavily. "Not necessarily bad," he admitted, "just… not always there, you know? Anyway, he died when I was young, so it made little difference. The only person who took his passing hard was my mother. After that, she stopped using this book completely." He pushed off the table and stared absent-mindedly at the blank pages. "I started using it shortly after the spell happened… to remind myself that I'm not alone in this world."

Marinette cocked her head curiously as she gazed upon the book. "How does it work?" she asked.

Cat Noir's ears perked up, and he smiled. "Would you like to try it out?"

Marinette nodded.

Her friend took her hand and pressed it flat on the pages. His own hand remained on hers, and Marinette realized how cold her fingers were compared to the warm black fuzz on his own. It made her cheeks blush even more.

"Close your eyes," Cat Noir murmured.

Marinette did so, taking a deep breath as she did so. As long as he was here with her, she had nothing to fear.

"Think of the one place you've always wanted to see," Cat Noir continued, his voice softening into a lullaby that rumbled in her ears. "Even if you've never seen it before, think about the stories you've heard; the sights you've been told. Now, hold that picture in your mind's eye, and feel it in your heart. Will it into being."

The one place I always wanted to see…

Marinette knew exactly what it was; a question she had been asking for many years. She repeated it again and again in her thoughts, hoping the Book of Wanderings would hear it.

Then… she felt herself falling.

Marinette almost screamed, but Cat Noir's arms were instantly around her. She opened her eyes, and was amazed to find that the castle library was gone.

More importantly, she was flying! Clouds of grey, pink and orange swam past her as Marinette and Cat Noir soared through open sky, faster than either of them thought possible.

Then, like blobs of ink trailing through water, the scenery changed and melded into walls, pillars and open doorways. Marinette went rigid as she and Cat Noir landed gently on their feet just as the world around them finished unfolding.

Cat Noir released her and looked around, his nose crinkling with bewilderment. "Why'd you bring us here?" he asked.

In his defense, the manor they were standing in was a total wreck. The narrow glass windows were shattered, and the front door lay torn off its hinges. The floor, once a gleaming polished marble, was dusted completely with dirt, leaves and grime – an earthly residue from the natural elements. Cobwebs and dead branches hugged the walls and corners, and moth-eaten drapes swayed in the early spring breeze like hunched ghosts.

The haunted aura of the manor matched the uneasy cold that blew into the main hall from the exposed threshold, and Marinette could have sworn she heard wings fluttering from somewhere upstairs. Birds and animals could fit right at home here, but it was clearly uninhabitable for humans. It was almost… dead.

This can't be the place, Marinette thought, speeding to the doorway to peer outside.

As expected, there was a beautiful lawn that once beheld several gardens between the spokes that made up the massive wheel of stone walkways. Now, the unattended shrubs of grass lay colorless and dull, and weeds sprouted from every crevice of the path. Beyond the lawn, a glittering landscape of houses and streets carved through the land, leading to a mighty cathedral with twin towers.

Twin towers… like the pictures in Marinette's books. "Paris," she said breathlessly. So, the book had worked after all. "We're in Paris."

"Really?" The excitement in Cat Noir's voice was like that of a boy being offered a bag of cookies. He came over and stepped out into the open air, beaming at the beautiful city before him. "I love Paris! Look – there's Notre Dame!" He pointed at the cathedral. "Should we visit there first? Or how about the Arc de Triomphe? Champs-Elysees?"

Cat Noir looked back at Marinette, only to see her staring at him with a crooked smile, as though his ecstatic tourist plan amused her. His head shrank into his shoulders. "Sorry," he said, gazing over the ruined manor. "I mean, minus the dab and dismal, this really is a nice place. And the view is spectacular."

Marinette turned back to look at the interior, trying to imagine it without the peeling wall paint and broken glass. "This was my mother's old home," she said, walking over to the wooden banister of the stairs. "This is where she lived until… until the day she left."

Soft footsteps patted behind her. "Oh, that's right," he said. "Your mother was a merchant's daughter. But… why did she leave?"

Suddenly, Marinette recalled the words Sabine had told her the night she left home: When I left Paris, all those years ago, I did it only for myself. For my own interests. Her mother had never been very explicit when describing her past.

"I don't know," Marinette finally answered with a shake of her head. "She never liked to talk about it. All I know is that she wanted to be with my father. But… I think something bad happened here, otherwise she wouldn't have –"

Marinette was cut off when whirls of golden dust appeared at the bottom of the stairs, spinning around to form a small, three-dimensional shape. The details and colours were left out, but the image could not be mistaken for anything other than a little human girl, playing with a small box in her hands.

A music box.

And that sweet little song the girl was humming… That was… That meant she was…

"Maman?" Marinette rasped, stepping back towards Cat Noir. "What… What is this?"

"A memory," her friend replied, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "The Book also allows you to see things that have already happened here. All you're doing is… flipping back the pages."

The little girl – Marinette's own mother – now sang the words of the melody in quiet soprano:

"How does a moment last forever?

How does our happiness endure?

Through the darkest of our troubles,

Love is beauty, Love is pure…"

Just then, another golden figure emerged out of nowhere from one of the hallways. "Sabine!" cried the distant voice of a young boy.

Young Sabine rose up and squealed, rushing towards her friend.

Then, like ashes in the wind, they both vanished.

But before Marinette could so much as blink, another living memory appeared at the top of the stairs. This time, the two figures were a few years older, but there was no doubt they were the same boy and girl from before.

"Do you like it?" the boy asked, holding something small in his hands. "I know it's not perfect, but…"

"Aww, Tommy – it's wonderful," Young Sabine said with delight. "I love it."

"You, boy!" shouted an invisible voice that made both children turn sharply. "Cook's waiting for you! Get moving!"

"Yes, monsieur," the boy called meekly, shooting Sabine what may have been an apologetic glance before hastening down the stairs.

Marinette stared at them for a long time, even when they too dissipated into mist. "They grew up together," she said absentmindedly. "My parents. They lived together in this house."

But that meant that Tom had been a servant in this manor; a kitchen boy, most likely.

Voices sounded from outside. Marinette and Cat Noir turned and saw an older Tom and Sabine holding each other's hands at the foot of the garden walkway.

"My father will never accept us, Tom," Sabine said. She sounded like she was crying. "No one ever will."

"I don't care," Tom declared with all the heart and spirit of a youth in love. "As long as we have each other, that's more than enough for me. The only thing I can't bear is the thought of losing you."

Cat Noir drew in a sharp breath, but he said nothing.

"We'd… We'd have to keep it secret," Sabine cautioned, touching her beloved's cheek. "At least… just for a while."

"The old man will never find out, Sabine." From Tom's tone, Marinette could tell he was smiling. "By the time he does, we'll be long gone."

They both disappeared.

Then, muffled voices sounded from the upper levels. They sounded like they were arguing.

Dreading what she was about to see and hear, Marinette raced up the creaky old steps. Cat Noir followed close behind. They reached the top floor, rounded the corner, and ran until they came onto a small, open terrace with a crumbled balcony.

One of the two golden figures was Tom, judging from his burly appearance and familiar voice. The second was a tall, gangly man with a gruff voice that sounded like he had indigestion.

"You're a reasonable boy," the man said with a haughty air Marinette remembered from her talks with Chloe Bourgeois. "Perhaps we can come to a bargain."

"You have nothing to offer me," Tom stated lowly.

"Oh, but I do. How does two thousand francs sound? More than what a usual baker boy would make in a lifetime, I assure you. It's all yours... if you promise to leave Paris and never come near my daughter again."

Marinette reeled. "What?!"

That man Tom was speaking to… was Marinette's grandfather?

"I don't like where this is going," Cat Noir warned.

Apparently, neither did the apparition of Tom. "You think bribery will sway me, old man?" he snapped, making his companion step back. "I love Sabine more than anything. Not all the gold in France will ever be worth more than that!"

The other figure swiped a hand between them. "Insolent fool! Love won't keep my daughter warm and safe at night, or fill her belly, or allow her to raise a proper family! You will doom her to a life of misery!" He paused and lowered his tone, but the words were just as venomous. "If you truly care for her so much, you will let her go. Sabine deserves a respectable man to care for her."

Tom huffed and stood his ground like the brave man Marinette had always known him to be. "Well, when you find one, you be sure to let me know. Until then, I will give Sabine the life she deserves: a life where she is free to follow her heart." And with that, he turned towards the exit… towards Marinette and Cat Noir, but obviously not seeing them.

He didn't get two steps when Marinette's grandfather yanked him back by the shoulders. "How dare you!" he shouted, flinging the boy against the invisible stone railing. "Filthy wretch! I'll teach you to defy me!" He then proceeded to try and push Tom over the ledge.

Marinette covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh, god… no!"

Cat Noir was immediately beside her. "We should leave," he said urgently. "Tell the Book you want to go back."

But Marinette could not bring the words out. She was too frightened by what she was seeing.

"Let me go!" Tom cried, wrestling against the old man's apparition as half of him leaned precariously over the four-storey drop. "Please! Don't do this!"

"I will do what is necessary!" Marinette's grandfather snarled as he hoisted Tom by one leg. "I will not let you –"

"FATHER!"

Marinette and Cat Noir whirled just as another golden apparition appeared in the terrace entrance. There was no need to figure out who that desperate voice belonged to.

But the spirit of the old man spoke it anyway as he halted in his efforts. "Sabine?" The name sounded like a whisper laced with anger and surprise.

"Get away from him!" His daughter rushed forward, grabbed Tom, and shoved the old man aside before helping her troubled boyfriend. "Tom…! Mon Dieu, are you all right? It's okay, my love - I'm here. I've got you." She fell to her knees beside him and held him close, murmuring more assuring words. Then, Sabine's head snapped up to face her father, and her next words were a riotous storm of shock and disgust. "You monster! How could you?!"

Marinette almost sank to her knees herself, but luckily Cat Noir held her up by her elbows. "Stop," she pleaded, squeezing her eyes shut. "Take me back! Make it stop!"

Her command was answered in the breath of a second, and Marinette felt herself being lifted off her feet and into the wind-swept sky. Warm air curled through her hair and blew her dress about her legs.

Then, she felt solid tiles beneath her, and the musky smell of books washed over her.

Marinette opened her eyes.

The library. She was back in the library, her hand still laid flat against the Book of Wanderings.

She was back. It was over. Perhaps it had all just been an nightmare.

"Are you all right, Milady?" Cat Noir said, his own voice thick with shock and contempt. Not at Marinette, but had what he had just witnessed. He still held her up, as though afraid that she would crumble apart if he let go.

Only then did the tears finally come. "Sh-Sh-She never told me," Marinette stammered, barely able to breathe. "My own grandfather... H-H-He tried to... he tried to..."

"I know. I saw." Cat Noir's arms wrapped snug around her; a shielding embrace. "But it's over now. Your father's okay, remember? He still lives. Your mother saved him."

Marinette nodded as she breathed against his chest, though half of her mind still echoed with the pleading cries of her father, and the angry demands of her grandfather.

Monsieur Cheng – a wealthy merchant who had chosen to put family and reputation before his daughter's happiness.

I decided I didn't want anyone to decide what was best for me… what they thought was best for me.

Sabine had left because she chose Tom over her father. The poor boy who loved her with all that he was, versus the nobleman who treated her as a priceless object to be sold off to the highest bidder.

For the first time in all her seventeen years, Marinette finally understood why her mother hardly spoke of the incident. The shame she must have felt for her father that day, for the heinous crime he had almost committed… Not even Marinette could stomach it.

Soft rumbling filled her ears. Cat Noir was purring again. A lullaby to comfort and to soothe. Marinette closed her eyes and pressed her ear closer so she could listen, imagining all those visions she saw rolling off a cliff and vanishing into pinpricks.

Then, Cat Noir said with a strained voice, "I'm sorry I called your father a thief. Maybe… If I had only known then, I…" He sighed with a shudder. "I'm sorry for a lot of things."

Marinette smiled. "I know, Cat," she assured him. "I know."

She was sorry for a lot of things, too. Making a bad first impression when she had come to take her father's place, sneaking into the western courtyard, running away so rashly…

But even after all that had happened, even after learning the truth about her family, Cat Noir still supported Marinette; still cherished her as a friend. He didn't scrutinize her or push her away like all those upstart, traditional snobs in Villeneuve had. He didn't see her as the daughter of a disgrace, or a sniveling nobody whose only advantage in life was her unnatural beauty.

Cat Noir wasn't perfect, either. But he admitted his own mistakes, battled his own demons… and allowed a silly, awkward baker's daughter to cry into his shoulder.

He was a true friend. Like Alya and Nino, but… on a much deeper level.

Mere months ago, Marinette thought it was foolish to hope for someone who would understand her; someone who would see past the messy grime and dirt and find the hidden treasure within.

Now, she realized she had been foolish for not hoping at all.