Reading Music
Part 2
_
Paris Catacombs
04:50
After 4 hours of wiggling, crawling, and exploring, Minerva Paradiso could not possibly fabricate the features and installations found in the Empire of Death. She stood in the center of a dozen lit candles, in awe of the The Great Wave off Kanagawa mural painted across the rock walls. The street artist had even taken the liberty to add a sunset to the painting, pink and orange hues contrasting the aqua ocean.
The deeper they climb reveals more and more of the catacomb's secrets. A walk through history and an art museum? Minerva had heard the catacombs were Hell, but all she could swear was that she's in Heaven.
"Hey." Raff, who's usually silent, interrupts Minerva's admiration with a raspy voice. He's the last one through the archway as he mentions, "We're moving on."
"Oh. Right." Minerva moves into the main hallway to catch up with her acquaintances. She takes a step forward into the dim passage when a pair of hands grabs her from behind.
"AH!" Minerva shrieks. But she isn't scared. A deep frown hardens her jaw as she whips around to glare daggers at a hysterical Baptiste. "Don't ever do that again."
"Of course, princess," Baptiste grins ear to ear.
Minerva rolls her eyes and continues forward into the shallow passageway, her headlamp casting shadows off the stone. "Don't call me princess."
Baptiste follows behind at a distance, though his presence is impossible to ignore. "Feisty."
"I called her spicy earlier," Ines agrees from the front of the group. They pause for the remainder to catch up, relaxed beneath the tunnel of arches.
The earth suddenly trembles around them, tiny bits of rock dust crumble onto their heads as the walls vibrate. Minerva widens her eyes, caught off-guard by the violent shaking. "The metro train?" she inquires hopefully.
"Yup," Ines answers casually.
"Nah, it's an earthquake," Neptune jokes, inciting playful groans from the group.
Ines waits for the metro train above them to pass, and the earth around them stills once more. She clears her throat. "So! Ready for some swimming?"
Minerva nods - she's been expecting this. The deeper trenches of the catacombs had been muddier than dusty, and though her attire kept her warm, the air was thick with moist chill against her cheeks. She kicks a heel to the ground and stirs up dust around her boots. "I came prepared," she boasts, pointing her toe to the ground now. "Boots and wetsuit, both waterproof."
"Someone likes being comfortable," Pin mutters sourly, not before Ines elbows him in the ribs.
"Someone sounds jealous," Minerva teases back, hands on hips. "Not my fault you're wearing jeans."
"Si, si." Pin straightens off the wall and leads on ahead. "At least I'm tall. How short are you anyway?"
The guys snicker, though it's clear to Minerva it's out of endearment. Granted, she isn't the tallest person in the world, and that meant she had to fight to be taken seriously in day-to-day life. With an intellect like hers, it was beyond draining. A true sap of power. But down here, in the maze of bones and stone, she understands the guys' protective tendencies. To them, getting lost down here was death.
To Minerva, it's carte blanche.
"My height is whatever you want it to be," she finally answers. She stomps forward, eyes and headlamp focus ahead. "I'm not telling."
"The water's going to come up to your chin," Pin jokes, not before Ines smacks his arm. "I'm just teasing."
"She'll be fine," Léo cuts in, eyeing Minerva over his shoulder. "She said she's prepared."
Minerva gives Léo a firm nod - a silent thank you. She catches up to him, careful to spare a quick glance at Baptiste behind her. She can't be too eager for Baptiste's attention, but she can't ignore him completely. A give and take. Push and pull.
The group halts by a tiny hole six feet high, the beams of their headlamps bouncing around the hole in the darkness. One by one, the cataphiles pile through, Minerva third to last. Her bag goes through first and she heaves herself up to slither through the crack and pop out the other side. Only, she didn't land on solid ground.
"Woah!" She splashes into waist-high water, the murky liquid cold and stagnant against her suit, but her clothes underneath are dry and warm. Minerva balances her bag above her head and wades forward. The water drops off another few inches and sinks Minerva to her chest. "You guys weren't kidding."
"Here. Let me help," Baptiste chimes in behind her. He lifts her backpack off her head and swings it around his shoulders, giving her a tiny pat on her wig-laced head. "Now you can swim."
Minerva clamps down on her lip and eyes him nervously. She's not too comfortable with him carrying her bag and her precious items contained within, but it's not as if Baptiste would rob her point blank 300 feet below ground. At least, she hopes that's the case. Minerva accepts his help, allowing herself to float to the surface of the water. "Merci."
The group of illegal explorers are coated in dirt, mud, and chalk by the time they swim out of the flooded passageway, emerging into the mines below. Minerva groans as she pulls herself free from the last of the sludge, still worried for her backpack. Her headlamp brightens each acquaintance's face until she settles on Baptiste. She extends a gloved hand. "My bag?"
"Sure you don't want me to carry it?"
"Positive."
Baptiste chuckles as he hands it back to her. "Look ahead," he nods past her, his beam of light showing her the way.
Minerva follows his gaze and turns to search, but the room ahead is still obscured from view. She bites her lip and saunters forward a few steps. "What am I looki-"
Something lands on her shoulder with a thump.
Something not human.
"EEK!" Minerva yelps and whirls around. Eyes dart the stone walls in panic, terrified to find a roach or creepy crawlie. "What was that?!" she whines with a brush of her shoulders, hopping side to side in fear.
Baptiste bends down to scoop a miniature octopus plushie from the ground. "You mean this?"
Minerva narrows her eyes at the bug-eyed plushie between his scarred fingers. Heat rolls off her and steams the chill air. "Are you serious?"
The cataphiles holler with laughter. They roll and hit the walls as Minerva fumes.
"What the hell, connards."
"We plant them everywhere." Ines calms down first. She takes the plush from Baptiste's hands and cradles its pink body. "I thought you weren't scared."
Minerva gives her a deadpan look. "I'm not scared. It fell on me."
"Oookay."
They worm forward into the abyss as hip-hop streams from someone's phone, the lyrics ricochet around the walls. The passages are even tighter, twisting and turning when they reach a golden glow at the end of a tunnel. And as they pop from the tunnel like corks, a step down onto a wide platform leads into a colossal chamber, arched ceilings at least four stories high. Flaming torches cast shadows off ochre, limestone walls, the structures bare of colorful graffiti, the sign of unmarked territory.
Baptiste halts in the center of the room and lifts his arms in a showcase. "Welcome to the mines, Athena," he echoes into the shafts above, a grand smile on his bearded face.
Minerva's soul ignites with adoration, her insides warm and comforted. Truly. Untouched historical monuments are rare to find, and ones centuries old are even rarer. "Magnifique," she breathes, spinning in soft circles, enchanted by the structures above. Wooden beams jut across limestone arches that stack high into the ceiling, perhaps as an ancient pulley system. She notices a pristine plaque carved above an arch:
Val de Grâce
1359
"I can't believe the condition this is i-" she's about to compliment the state of the mines when she catches a glimpse of bones in the corner of the room. Forgotten femurs, left to rot in dust.
Five hours in. Human bones. Finally.
Minerva saunters across the platform, unable to take her eyes off the pile of human remains. She's only a few feet away when she realizes the size of the human femurs - they're a small child's bones, no older than six.
She drops to her knees. She can't help the pit of despair in her heart. Oui, there were plenty of bones down here; they were just beneath the catacombs at this rate. But to see these bones neglected? Forgotten for how many decades? Centuries? Just a child. A baby. How did they die? Why are their bones just stranded here?
"You okay?" asks Baptiste.
Minerva glances up - he's hovering over her shoulder. She sighs, and sets her gaze back on the bones of Child Doe. "Yeah. Just… seeing these here? Like this?" She shakes her head softly.
"Didn't you see all those bones on the official tour?" Baptiste asks gently, crouching beside her.
"Yes. But… These are just forgotten. They're not stacked, or lined up somewhere. They're not with their family. Just tossed aside. Like nothing. It's…" Her brows wrinkle together. Her heart grows heavier by the moment. "Sad. It's sad."
There's a moment of silence between them.
Baptiste places a caring hand on Minerva's shoulder. "We can move them if you want. Honor them."
Minerva peeks up at him. He's close, but she allows it for now. "Do you have a spot?" she inquires, her stormy eyes brighten a little.
"I have an idea," Baptiste nods. He stands and offers her his hand. "It's only a few meters away."
The instinct to swipe his hand away and stand by herself fills her, but she remembers that she needs to grow close to him. She gnaws on her cheek as she accepts his hand, his strong grip sweeps her to her feet. She catches his gaze before she lets go, his eyes like inviting pools of chocolate. She nods in thanks and releases his hand, slowly making her way to the pile.
The tiny bones are strong enough that they don't crumble in her fingers, but are so delicate and old that they've lost all density. Minerva clutches them to her chest, holding them close with tender care.
Baptiste leads her out of the chamber and down a spiraling dirt path. White candles light their descent, dancing and casting shadows along the corridor as their feet disrupt the flames.
"Who keeps these lit?" Minerva wonders aloud, careful not to lose her footing.
"It's one of the great mysteries," Baptiste shrugs with an innocent smile. "None of us know."
Minerva pauses, held back a little behind him. "That's…" She frowns. "You're messing with me."
"I'm actually not." Baptiste sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "They always seem to burn forever." He turns around and continues casually, "I just assumed that one of us does it."
"One of us?" Minerva asks and resumes behind him. "You mean cataphiles?"
"Yeah. We're everywhere. In secret rooms. In the walls. We don't always know who's watching…"
"Oh…"
Baptiste clears his throat. "Anyway, here we are."
Minerva peeks from around his arm and into the tiny clearing ahead. Hundreds of candles adorn a makeshift chapel lined with wooden pews and a limestone altar. A single, white candle burns slowly beside an empty offering plate, its flame still in the stale air. "Woah."
Baptiste moves aside for Minerva to pass him, watching her silently as she drifts to the altar.
The empty offering plate is the perfect place for the bones to rest. This way, they'll be remembered. She gently crosses the femurs across the plate and rests her glove atop, just taking a moment to acknowledge the lost life. It may have been hundreds, even thousands of years ago - but they were someone's son or daughter. Someone's brother or sister. Someone's dearest friend. Just a mere preschooler. Minerva closes her eyes and feels the heat from the candle on her cheek. "I hope you find peace, little one," she whispers.
After a few calm moments, Baptiste comments quietly, "You're sweet."
Minerva opens her eyes and removes her hands, clasping them together in front of her instead. She stares into the candlelight and watches the flame sway, aware of Baptiste's close presence. They have this moment together, and the setting is most intimate. She decides to shoot her shot.
"What happened in the caves?" Minerva feels Baptiste stiffen beside her, but she presses on with a kind firmness. "I know you've been there. You're highly defensive and avoid talking about it. And you have scars on your fingers. Possibly unrelated. Possibly not." She turns to face him and places a tender hand on his forearm. "You can tell me. I'll listen."
Baptiste doesn't look at her. His eyes are black ice, despite staring into the candle's flame. His lips part slowly, as if unsure how to answer. Eventually, he sighs. "Why do you want to go down there?" He waves a hand over the altar. "Isn't this enough?"
"If I'm in danger down there, I'd prefer to know why," Minerva deflects. She tightens her grip on his arm. "Tell me."
Baptiste's jaw tenses and his gaze lowers. "My little brother died."
Minerva freezes, stunned beyond words. She hadn't expected that.
He continues before she can think of sympathies, as if sensing her dismay. "Don't apologize. It was my fault."
"What happened?" she asks under her breath, a whisper only he could hear.
Baptiste takes another deep breath and finally faces her. "I thought it'd be sweet to explore uncharted territory. There's a few urban legends about the place, and I wanted to see if they were true, and I asked him to join me. So, like you, we prepared. If anyone could do it, it was us." The tiniest of broken smiles graces his face. "How foolish I was." His eyes flick to hers, stern but no longer ice. They were far away, in despair, trapped in a nightmare. "I can't tell you exactly what happened, but, something…"
Minerva grows closer. "Something?"
"I don't know what, but one minute we were fine, and the next… He was gone."
"Caves are dark," Minerva tried to reason. "It's easy to get lost. You can't blame yourself-"
"No. I didn't lose him," Baptiste growls in frustration. "He- Something took him. From me. One minute he was there and the next, he was gone."
Minerva takes a second to process this information. It was highly unlikely that a creature or ghost was involved here, though a rogue troll could certainly be an option. But trolls are loud and massive. Certainly noticeable. Perhaps, it could've been a member of the fairy gang? But, what would be their motive? Unless they'd been discovered? The more she mulls it over, the more she concludes that there is no monster or thing - it was Baptiste's own grief rewriting his memory so he could better process his brother's disappearance.
Despite the severe doubt of Baptiste's recollection, she knows it'd do no good for him nor her to state it aloud. This wasn't about pride for him, it was traumatic, and deeply tragic. So, she swallows her analysis and trails a comforting finger along his muddy arm instead. "I am so incredibly sorry this happened to you two. I have a little brother. I can't even imagine the pain you feel."
"Yeah."
"Did you happen to get a glimpse of this 'something'?"
"Bones." Baptiste takes a step closer to her. "Just bones."
Well, bones are the whole point of the catacombs, n'est ce pas? Minerva thinks to herself, her glove still firm on him. "I'm sorry for making you relive it."
"It's fine," he mutters, his head hung low as his chest nears her. His gaze drops to her lips. "I just don't want that same fate to befall you."
Minerva realizes how close they are, a warm tingle spurts up her spine. "I'll be fine."
"You won't." His nose is inches away from hers now.
"I will." She can feel his breath on her cheeks as their lips grow closer.
"Don't go."
"I have to."
Baptiste surges forward and presses his lips to hers, the impact softer than his approach. He's successful for a mere second until Minerva reels back with wide eyes and shoves him away. "Uh! Um, I-" She takes another step back, her cheeks like deep wine as she gathers her thoughts. He kissed me?!
"I-I can't," she stammers with a shake of her head. "Sorry. I just can't-"
"Hey." Baptiste shrugs with an innocent grin. "It's okay. Sorry for kissing you."
"N-No, it's okay. I just- I-"
"Shhh." He pats her shoulder from a distance. "You don't have to explain."
Minerva clamps her mouth shut and nods adamantly. Her love life was next to none outside of her time with Artemis, except for a few stray dates she had as a teenager. There were always more important things to focus on, like herself, and her work. And the one time - the one time she gave all of that up to fall in love with another genius, another genius who never loved her back? That led her on and played with her heart for two years? She could've won a Nobel Peace Prize by now! But, nooo! She had to go and devote her time and intellect to fantasizing about marriage, and little genius children, and living in paradise. Perhaps, she just wanted the family she never really had. Perhaps, she just wanted to be the mother she never had. Was that so much to ask? To have a normal-
"Athena? You okay?"
It's then that Minerva plops back into reality. She's flustered and fuming, fat tears well up in her eyes. Putain. "Sorry. I just-" She throws her hands up with an exasperated sigh. "I'm not good at these things. I just need a minute."
Baptiste backs away from the altar slowly. "Sure. I'll join the others." He winks at her before turning. "But think on it. Okay?"
But before he can completely escape her presence, Minerva blurts out, "Thank you for telling me about your brother." His expression is a little surprised, as if he'd repressed that part of their conversation. "That must've been hard for you to tell me. So, thank you."
Baptiste gives her solid nod. "Yeah." He turns to exit, saying on his way out, "Don't take too long."
"I won't." Minerva offers a friendly, tight-lipped smile. She waits until he's clear of the chapel to heave a dramatic sigh. Her glove hovers over her lips, a slight tingle where they collided. She's shocked with herself for not slapping him for such brazen advances. Normally, she'd be repulsed by a man making such assumptions of her. But, she was baiting him on, and he had just confessed his brother's death. To slap someone after such a confession! She wasn't so detestable.
Her eyes are like troubled storms, fixated on the flame's dance. Stay focused, she reminds herself. You came here to find fairies. This is no time for frivolities. With a heavy sigh, her gaze trickles over to the child's femurs beside the candle. The bones, mingled with the fact that there are people who are lost and die down here is another bleak reminder that this is a tomb of death, after all.
Her gloved fingers graze a femur with tender strokes. They're so small. "Who were you, little one?" she asks aloud. "Perhaps, Brigitte? Or, a petit Martin?" Her mouth hardens as her heart sits heavy in her chest. "How did you die? Were you alone?" Another sigh. "You're not alone anymore. You can rest now, baby. Rest in peace."
A few more minutes of silence linger on. Dripping wax extinguishes the flame and black smoke rises into the stagnant air. Minerva reaches into her backpack for a lighter and takes a moment to reignite the wick, its burning heat a comfort to her soul. As she sets back on her bookbag, she takes one last glance at the femurs, and turns to continue on her merry way.
Only, when she turns, she's met face to face with a random man.
"Putain! (Fuck!)" Minerva shrieks and jumps out of her skin, her hand flies to her heart. "Oh my god. Oh. Putain," she chuckles and calms herself with deep breaths. "You really scared me!"
But when she looks at the man sitting at the pew again, she realizes that he's a complete stranger, and not anyone she recognizes.
His skin is white as powder, his hiker's clothes are tattered, and empty, blank eyes stare at the wall behind her.
He doesn't blink. He doesn't speak. He doesn't even glance her way.
Minerva feels flighty bits of anxiety tingle beneath her skin, like an itch she can't scratch. Something isn't right.
She creates some distance by slowly sliding to the other side of the chapel, and watches him from the opposite end of the pew. "Um… hello? Can you hear me?"
A nod. Just one. His eyes still stare ahead.
Minerva takes another step to the exit, not daring to take her eyes off him. "Are you a cataphile?"
Another nod. Just one.
"Ah. So am I. I'm new, Athena." She takes another step and the exit nears closer. "Are you the one who keeps the candles lit?"
She awaits a third nod, but it never comes.
The man doesn't nod, or shake his head. He doesn't blink. He doesn't speak. He doesn't even glance her way.
Minerva looks between the stranger and the exit - she's only a few feet away now. Screw it. She bolts for the exit tunnel without another word.
The dash up the spiral passageway is the fastest she's ever run in her life. Stray chatter and hip hop music are her first signs of civilisation, and when she rounds the corridor, is thankfully reunited with the rest of the group.
"Athena!" Ines calls out, wearing a mischievous smile with a smoking cigarette between her fingers. "You guys were gone for quite a while, n'est ce pas?"
Minerva smirks as her cheeks darken. "He showed me the chapel. That's all."
"Yeeeaaah," Pin says as he hugs Ines. "I'm sure he showed you his- I mean the chapel."
The group chuckles as Minerva rolls her eyes. "Si, si." She fills the gap in their circle and nods at Baptiste. "I found out who lights the candles, by the way."
Baptiste's brow furrows in confusion. "What? How?"
"After you left, another cataphile came in. I asked him if he lit the candles and he said yes. Well-" She talks with her hands when she looks from person to person. "He didn't say yes. He didn't actually say anything at all, like he's mute. He just nodded to my question." She glances back at Baptiste, who looks more confused by the second. "Know him?"
Baptiste opens his mouth to speak, but is speechless. Ines moves through the group to stand beside Minerva, a slow hand to her shoulder. "Why're you messing with us?" she asks with a smile. "I guess payback is fair."
It's Minerva's turn to be confused now. Her focus shifts between Baptiste and Ines as she presses on. "I'm not joking. There was a man in there with me. I didn't feel comfortable being alone with a stranger, so I left."
"Athena…" Ines is bewildered. "There's only one entrance into the chapel, and it's from here." She shakes her head. "No one else went down there. We would've seen them."
Minerva blinks. "...W-what? That's- that doesn't make sense." She throws her hands up. "He was there! A man was definitely there! I'm… I'm not crazy!"
"No one says you're crazy!" Ines calms her and takes her hand in hers. "I believe you."
"Maybe we missed him?" Raff suggests.
"He should still be down there," Neptune adds. He breaks away from the group, back towards the tight passageway. "I can check."
"Please do," Minerva challenges, crossing her arms as she and the others follow behind. They wait at the entrance as Neptune goes on ahead. Minerva anxiously plays with her wig. What if she was crazy?
Suddenly, Neptune's face appears from the exit of the chapel. "There's no one here."
"What?!" Minerva yelps. She runs past the others and joins Neptune in the chapel. She can't believe her eyes - the stone chapel is entirely empty. Not a living soul in sight. She stomps over to where the man sat and throws her palm out. "He was right here! He was here," she declares with a fervid intensity, not keen on being made a fool. "I'm not making this up. He sat right here, and stared at the wall. He was dressed just like us."
"It's okay," Léo's familiar voice says behind Minerva, having followed her. "You probably just saw a ghost."
Minerva whips around to glare at him. "Léo, I'm serious."
"So am I," he shrugs.
"You are in a tomb of death, you know," Neptune agrees.
"Ghosts aren't real." Minerva's a little flustered. Is she hallucinating from stress? Has she developed a mental illness, and this is the first sign? Will she become like Artemis?
No, she tells herself. You can never allow that. You are better than him.
Hmph.
"Whatever," she grumbles as she spins around and pushes past the men. "Let's just move on."
She exits the chapel for the second time, and hopefully her last. As they meet up with the rest of the cataphiles, Baptiste catches Minerva's shoulder.
"So?" he inquires quietly. "Was he there?"
Minerva shakes her head.
"What did he look like? Did he look like me?"
There's heartbreak in his eyes, and Minerva can decipher the intent of his questions. "Baptiste…" She sighs and places a hand against his chest. "Don't."
"What… What if it's him? My- My…" He breaks from her gaze and shakes his head. "No. No. You're right. It can't be. Sorry." He backs away from the group, turmoil written in the depth of his eyes and the slash of his mouth.
Minerva can't help but feel for him. She can only assume she'd be the same way if she lost those close to her. She'd been fortunate enough to only ever lose her mother - though, abandoning your children to run off with the gardener hardly counts as death.
"Hey, Athena!" Neptune lights a cigarette between his lips as he takes a stance beside her. "Wanna see some more bones?"
"Sure," Minerva shrugs. "As long as they're not lonely children's bones again."
"Weeell," Neptune trills. "I can't promise you that, but it's worth it."
"Are you showing her what I think you're showing her?" Raff pitches in to join them.
"Where is it?"
"A short trek from here," Raff grins, raising his brows at Neptune. "Gimme one of those."
Neptune gives Raff a cigarette and offers Minerva one, but she shakes her head. He shrugs and gingerly places it behind his ear before walking ahead to another corner of the chamber. "Hey!" Neptune shouts over his shoulder with a wave. "We're gonna show Athena the throne! We'll be right back!"
"Good luck!"
"Don't die!"
"Hopefully no more ghosts!"
Minerva rolls her eyes at the last one. "Léo, I will turn you into a ghost."
"Try it, Minni- I mean, Athena!" Léo laughs as he watches them disappear one by one through a thin hole at the back of the chamber. "Have fun!"
Minerva was a minute into the trek when she realized she was entirely alone with her lesser known acquaintances, although they had as many jokes and silliness as others. If it hadn't been for their constant humor and ribs, she may have felt uncomfortable, but she didn't have time to dwell on it when they had her laughing and giggling along.
"Hey, hey, hey. Why did Neptune leave Jupiter?" Raff asks from the front of their single-file line.
"I dunno," Neptune grins from behind Minerva. "Why?"
"'Cause he wanted to enter Uranus."
The guys howl with side-splitting laughter, their raspy voices bouncing around the tight channel.
Minerva smacks her forehead and giggles through an annoyed smile. "Save me."
"How does it feel to be stuck between two idiots?" Neptune chuckles from over her shoulder.
"It feels like being stuck between two idiots." Minerva breaks out of her fit of giggles with a sigh. "Just where are you taking me?"
"You'll see!" Raff pats the damp, cold walls on their sides. "In 3, 2, 1…" He rounds a narrow corner and worms out the other side, a trail of cigarette smoke drifts in the air behind him.
Minerva follows suit, and she's unsure if the sight before her makes her sick, or exhilarated.
Hundreds of bones stack high into a wall, but it's the throne of human skulls that floors her. One foot slowly follows after another, hesitant to approach the throne.
"Neat, huh?" says Neptune as he steps from behind her and walks past. "We call it 'The Skull Throne'."
"Any guesses why?" Raff snickers.
Minerva rolls her eyes. "Geez. Je sais pas, because it's made of skulls?"
"Ding ding ding!" The guys laugh together with a clap to their shoulders. They're like schoolboys who taunt and prank each other, and Minerva wonders why she'd come along. "Congrats," Raff drones on. "You're a genius."
If they only knew, Minerva sighs to herself. She takes the tiniest of steps closer to the seat. "When was this made?"
"Around 20 years ago," Neptune answers, gently patting the wall of bones beside it. "It took the cataphiles about a year to make."
"So this was handcrafted by your kind, then?" Minerva inquires.
Raff nods. "You're one of us too, you know."
"Right."
Suddenly, Raff and Neptune throw shit-eating grins each other's way. "Hey, Athena. Wanna become a real cataphile?"
Minerva suspiciously peers between them. "Uh…sure?"
"Only real cataphiles sit on the throne," Neptune gloads.
"Oh, oui. Only the realest of the real sit on it," Raff agrees along a stifled chuckle.
Minerva raises a single brow. "Okay? Is that it?"
Raff nods his head adamantly. "Yup. All you gotta do is take a seat, and the tomb will recognize you forever from now on."
"Go on!" Neptune bursts through clamped lips. "Try it!"
Minerva rolls her eyes but can't help a small smile. "You two really are idiots." She strolls to the throne and barely strokes a skull with a gloved finger. A line of bone dust chalks the fabric, the sign of extremely old and undisturbed remains. She's a bit unnerved, but shrugs. What happens below the City of Lights, stays below the City of Lights. She takes a step closer to the throne, her hand runs down the bone armrest. "Okay. Here I go."
But before she can sit, Raff waves his hands in the air. "I'm just kidding! Haha!"
"We're joking. We're joking," Neptune insists, closing in their distance. "Come on."
"Yeah, don't sit on all those dead people," Raff jokes, smiles galore still shining.
"Hah!" Minerva lowers herself a little further. "Just for that, I'm sitting."
"So rude!" Raff replies, eyes locked onto her. "Come on. Come. Don't do that."
"You guys dared me to sit!" Minerva sneers with a challenging grin. "So, I'll sit."
"No," he says with sudden severity. "Don't. Don't."
Minerva stiffens. "What?"
"Don't do that."
"It was a joke. Don't actually sit there."
Tension builds in the silence between them. Minerva inches closer to the seat. "Why not?"
"Just-" Neptune throws up a hand with furrowed brows. "Don't."
"Why. Not?" Minerva presses on, her tone and gaze dominant and determined.
But the guys aren't fazed. Their skin is ashen white in the dim light, eyes wide with fear. "Just… Don't. Okay?" Raff orders. "Bad things happen when people sit there."
Minerva looks between them - they're genuinely spooked. "What kind of bad things?" she sneers, standing upright to calm the alarmed men. "Ghosts?"
Neptune rubs his neck sheepishly. "Let's just move on. It's best we don't mention it. But, uh-" He pats a skull cap on the throne cautiously. "It's still cool to see, oui?"
"Oui."
"I'm heading back." Raff turns to lead them out of the throne room through the tiny sliver in the wall. "Ready?"
"Yeah," Neptune mumbles, following eagerly behind.
Minerva can't help but feel annoyed. Her rebellious nature urges her to sit on the throne, to do just the opposite of the guys' request. But, it was their own fault! Why would they bring her here to challenge her, only to have her not sit on the throne, after all? Connards.
Her eyes dart quickly between the back of their heads and the throne - she makes her choice. She makes a quick dash for the throne, the smoothest and most careful speed she could manage as she rests her bottom atop a row of skulls. And just like that, she's sitting on the skull throne like a queen, her heart elated with soaring blood that makes her light-headed and high on pride. She can't help the impish grin that spreads across her lips. Sweet rebellion was so, so nice.
Before the guys can notice, Minerva is up and on her feet in a swift glide behind Neptune. "Scaredy cats."
Neptune glances at her from over his shoulder. "Shorty."
"I'm not short. You're just freakishly tall."
The guys laugh as they're pinned between the tight passage, their chests and backpacks brushing the walls. "How short are you anyway?"
"I am the perfectly acceptable height of 155 cm (5'1), thank you," Minerva huffs with her head held high.
"TINY!" Neptune coos. He pinches the air with his fingers. "Smol."
"Ferme-la!" Minerva smiles with a roll of her eyes. "Leave me be, giants."
It's been over two minutes now, and nothing "bad" or significant has occurred. Minerva chitters under her breath. Some superstition tha-
A deep rumble of the earth launches her into the wall and out of her thoughts.
"Putain!" yelp all three, pinned beneath violent shaking and gravity.
Minerva rationalizes the rumble. They'd experienced the metro train before, but it wasn't like this. Perhaps this was a deeper subway tunnel this time?
"What the hell?!" Raff grumbles, frozen stiff against the wall. "The metro doesn't come this far down!"
Welp. There goes that theory, then. Minerva's breath is steady but shallow as she waits for it to be over, and then it is, the world and deep earth calm and still as ever, like nothing had ever happened. Her chest rises and falls with each gulp of air, and ultimately, guilt creeps through her veins and into her heart. Did… she ponders. Did I- … No.
"Are you sure there isn't a deeper sub tunnel you didn't know about?" Minerva questions aloud, keen eyes on the side of Raff's face. "The metro tunnels are expansive. I have a map. I can check it and see-" She's about to continue her case when a terrifying bang reverberates against the passageway, rocks and dust rain down on their heads. And then, a giant crash!
The most terrible, blood-curdling scream rips through the air, sending chills down each and every one's spine. It was a woman's scream - It was Ines' screams.
"Putain!" Raff races ahead in the dark tunnel, Neptune not far behind. "Come on!"
The trio hurry out of the tiny channel as terrible screams grow closer and closer, and then they're free, slipping through the cracks and back into the expansive quarry. The scene before them is utter madness.
Minerva's line of sight follows Raff and Neptune as they race over to the rest of their group, Ines obscured from view. But, what Minerva can see is one of the massive, oak wood beams sprawled across the stone courtyard. She glances up at the ceiling - it was, indeed, one of the giant beams that made up the ancient mine shaft above. Minerva moves around the cataphiles for a better view.
The wooden beam had not only detached from its ancient rock bolts, but it'd fallen and crushed Ines' right leg.
Blood pools onto limestone as Ines' wails of pain escalate. "Get it the hell off! Please! Please!"
Minerva's jaw drops; she feels a little woozy, and her stomach flips into knots. Ines would die from blood loss if they didn't remove the beam quickly, and she'd be no help with that. As the men in the group take charge to lift the beam off of her, Minerva spins up the courage to jump into action, and digs through her backpack for any supplies she can spare. She sets aside bandages and a First Aid kit, and watches over the guys' progress as she puts together a makeshift tourniquet. "She needs an ambulance."
"No ambulance down here," Léo grunts between gritted teeth.
"Obviously. But we need to call someone down here."
"They won't come," Léo exasperates, shifting his weight. "Trust me."
"Okay! 1, 2, 3!" Baptiste orders. The men groan and growl as they heave 500 lbs of wood off of Ines' leg, tossing it beside them with a hefty thunk.
With the beam off of her leg, Minerva gets a better view of Ines. A jagged, broken bone impales the flesh of her ankle, the foot twisted the other direction. Minerva winces. She can only imagine the terrible agony Ines is in. She bends down low beside the panicked woman and grabs her frantic hand. "Bébé, I'm a doctor. I can help you, okay?"
"Please!" Ines cries into Pin's chest as he holds her tight. "Please, oh god!"
Minerva quickly cuts through Ines' jeans with a pair of medical scissors and examines her calf with two fingers. "Does this hurt?"
Ines shakes her head. "N-no!"
The blood at her ankle starts clotting, despite the pierced bone site. Minerva rests her fingers on Ines' wrist to count her heart rate. "Okay… Your heart rate is a little high, but not enough to be anemic." Minerva concludes a diagnosis. "So, I know you're in unbearable pain, but you're incredibly, incredibly lucky. It's better than it looks."
"What does that mean?!" Pin demands over Ines' cries.
"It means that her talus has broken off her fibula, and is currently… uh, poking through her skin."
Pin shakes his head in frustration. "What?!"
"It means-" Minerva grumbles as she shoves three pills into Ines' mouth. "-That her actual leg appears to be fine. Even though the entire foot is totally shattered, she stopped bleeding already. Which means-" She carefully removes Ines' sneaker to feel the bones of her foot. "She's not in immediate danger. That means, she's not going to die."
Minerva can feel the tension amongst the group disperse, a few sighs of relief follow suit. She wraps the tourniquet loosely around Ines' calf and explains, "She doesn't need it right now, but in case she bleeds again, make sure you tighten it." She applies disinfectant to the impaled site, followed by bandages, each cycle around Ines' ankle and foot meticulously placed and deliberate.
Minerva finishes quickly and turns her focus back to Ines' face to brush dark, sweaty hair away from her eyes. "Hey, babe. You just took some powerful painkillers. You'll feel better soon, okay?" She hands Ines her water bottle, but her friend is in too much pain to drink.
"I- I can't," she sobs into Pin, fat tears soaking his shirt. "I can't!"
"Shhh, it's okay." Tender fingers run through Ines' locks as she pulls her friend into a caring hug. As Minerva holds the traumatized woman, she glances at Pin. "Make sure you carry her the entire way through. She can't stand on that leg at all. If she does, she could bleed again and cause further damage, or she could die. Do you understand?"
"Oui. Oui," Pin agrees desperately. "I understand. I'll do anything."
Minerva nods. Nothing more needs to be said. She reaches for Ines and says, "Hey, Ines. Stay with me, okay? La Pin is getting you out of here. We need to move you, okay, babe?"
"Wh- What?!" Ines splutters. "I can't. Please! It hurts!"
"I know. Just breathe, okay?" Minerva reassures, the desire to nurture Ines claims her, resting her palms on the woman's cheeks. "Breathe." Minerva shows her a deep breath, getting the woman to calmly breathe in her arms. "Breathe. Good. You're doing great." Minerva whips to Pin. "Help me. Now."
Pin's on his feet and before Ines. He bends down to hoist her onto his back with the help of Minerva and Léo, draping Ines over him like a piggyback ride. "I've got you, ma chérie," Pin croaks, shifting their weight. Thankfully, Ines is petite like Minerva, and her size isn't too much of an issue.
"Is there any path you can take that doesn't involve climbing?" Minerva questions as she packs up her things.
"Not out of here," Pin shakes his head and looks at his friends. "Right? We have to climb outta here."
"Once we're out, I know a path," Neptune offers with worried eyes like saucers. "It's pretty straightforward, but it'll take way longer."
"You don't have a choice," Minerva cuts in sternly. "She can't put any pressure on that leg at all. She should barely move. Do what you need to do."
"Wha?" blurts a loopy Ines from over Pin's shoulder. It's clear that the painkillers have settled in as she burrows her cheek into Pin's neck. Her dopey eyes rest on Minerva. "You're- You're not comin?"
Minerva smiles sadly at her incoherent friend. "I can't, amour. I have to go on."
"What?!" Léo hisses, rounding on her. "You can't stay here. It's too dangerous-"
"I came down here for a reason," Minerva snaps with a dangerous glare. "I must keep going. Not you or anyone will stop me-"
"You can't go alone!" Léo argues, throwing up his hands. "Minnie. For real. Listen to me. If we all leave, you'll be stuck here alone. I won't allow that."
"What will you do?" Minerva scowls. "Kidnap me?"
"I'll stay." Baptiste's voice booms around the chamber, slicing through their argument like butter. "I'll make sure she's okay."
Minerva narrows her eyes at Baptiste, unsure of his motives. Regardless, she's a little grateful for his assistance. "Merci à toi."
"Raff," Baptiste calls over his shoulder. "Stay with us."
"Absolument pas (Absolutely not)," Léo steps forward. "Do we need another repeat of what happened 4 years ago, bro? Do we?" Baptiste's jaw stiffens in response, and Minerva realizes that Léo means Baptiste's brother. "Ines is already hurt. We can't keep dropping like flies."
"Léo," Baptiste grumbles, his shoulders square and firm as he crosses his arms. "I'm the last person to let that happen again. If she wants to go on, I'd prefer she isn't alone." He claps Léo on the shoulder. "Trust me on this."
"I almost died," Ines exclaims with a loopy smile. "Putain. I could've died! Haha!"
"Okay, time to go," Pin declares, shifting their joint weight once more. He looks between Baptiste, Minerva and Raff. "Stay safe. Please. We can't lose another."
Baptiste gives a solid nod, shoulder hugging Neptune and Pin. He kisses Ines' forehead instead, whispering, "You better not die on me, you hear?"
"Oui, oui, monsieur!" Ines giggles, drifting into a hazy nap on Pin's back. "Au revoir."
Neptune, Pin and Ines head back towards the corridor they originally entered from, but Léo falls a bit behind. He surprises Minerva with a hurried embrace. "See you above, Minnie." He pulls back with a worried sigh, and fistbumps Baptiste and Raff. "Take care of my friend."
The guys exchange nods of understanding and then Léo takes off, following and disappearing into the corridor with the rest of the gang.
"And then there were 3."
Baptiste fidgets with his head lamp and proceeds into a far, unexplored corner of the massive mine shaft chamber. "Let's get going then. The caves aren't too far from here."
Raff leads the trio as Baptiste and Minerva move alongside each other, Baptiste's arm occasionally strays into her. Eventually, he bumps her hard enough to get her attention. She's unsure if this is flirtatious behavior, as her mind is occupied elsewhere.
A stream of guilt flows through her body like a river, and her brain tries to rationalize the events that'd just occurred. She gazes up at the shaft above their heads. The rock bolts suspending the beams are ancient, and in no condition to withstand a quake. But, Paris didn't get earthquakes! At least, not at this intensity. The metro train wanders into her mind again, but it just doesn't add up. Why would the train suddenly be so violent? Raff even declared that it was impossible. Perhaps he was wrong?
Minerva's curious and itches to know. She has a map of the subway tunnels engraved into her skin, after all. She zips down her wetsuit to reveal the black tank-top underneath, eventually exposing the plethora of tattoos that littered her arms. Her fingers gently search for the correct spiral, finding the map she desired. She puts together a few coordinates and numbers, but her findings shock her.
Raff was right. There are no metro tunnels this far down.
So then, if the mighty tremble wasn't caused by a metro train, and it wasn't an earthquake…
Minerva replays herself sitting on The Skull Throne.
"Bad things happen when people sit there," Raff had warned. If Minerva had listened, would any of this have happened? Would Ines be safe?
Had she really caused this all?
Her mind says it's preposterous, but the thought still jostles her, the guilt eats at her heart. What if I… What if I did cause this?
"Cool tattoos," says Baptiste.
Minerva's grateful for the distraction - she needs it. "Thanks." They walk beside each other a few more minutes, only their footsteps, breathing, and the occasional drip of water fill the silence. Suddenly, Minerva is reminded of the hour before things went to shit, of the ghostly man in chalky, tattered clothes. She remembers his dark eyes, his blank stare.
"Baptiste," she utters, only for him to hear.
"Yeah?"
"The man I saw?" Minerva side-eyes him. "In the chapel?"
Baptiste halts, sucking in a breath. "...Yeah?"
"You asked if he looked like you." Minerva meets his eyes. "...He did."