Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Behind the building, a service entrance hid beneath jasmine vines that had grown wild and thick. The brass lock showed green patina but turned smoothly under his magic, as if someone had maintained the mechanism despite the building's apparent abandonment. The door opened into musty air, thick with dust and the lingering scent of herbs that had been packaged here decades ago.
Bastien moved through the empty shop, his flashlight beam revealing shelves stripped bare and display cases coated with grime. The residue trail pulled him deeper, toward a narrow staircase at the building's rear. Each wooden step groaned under his weight, releasing the accumulated scents of old wood and something else—something metallic that made his skin prickle. In the cramped storage room below, a section of brick wall gave way to pressure, revealing a hidden chamber carved from earth and lined with fitted stones. At its center, etched into black granite, a sigil spread its silver-filled grooves like frozen lightning.
Bastien knelt beside the symbol, recognition hitting him like cold water. A mirror rune—but more complex than any he’d encountered. This wasn’t designed for simple reflection. This was meant to bridge impossible gaps, to call across boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.
The chamber held another presence, faint but unmistakable. Delphine’s aura lingered, established and familiar, as if she’d visited this place multiple times without conscious memory. The silver inlay responded to her residual energy, creating patterns of luminescence dancing in his flashlight beam.
She’d been drawn here. Guided.
Bastien photographed the sigil from multiple angles, then carefully traced its outline onto parchment. Whatever Charlotte had created here was still active, still drawing Delphine to places she shouldn't know existed. He gathered ink samples from the chamber's corners, where traces of the same substance from the graffiti had pooled in stone crevices. The magical signature was consistent—someone was using Charlotte's original formulation to activate anchor points throughout the Quarter.
The pieces clicked together with terrible clarity and Bastien left.
Later, Maman Brigitte studied his sketch of the sigil with the intensity of a scholar reading forbidden texts. Her weathered fingers traced the symbol’s curves without touching paper.
“Mon dieu,” she whispered. “Where you find this?”
“Hidden chamber beneath the old Tremé apothecary. Delphine’s been there—her presence is all over that place.”
Maman’s dark eyes flicked up. “She tell you about it?”
“She doesn’t know she’s been there.”
The older woman reached beneath her counter, and withdrew Charlotte’s journal, which had some loose papers falling out. Pages crackled as she opened it, revealing hand-drawn symbols and notes in multiple languages.
“Same design,” she said, pointing to an entry. “Charlotte drew this for me twenty years after she started her experiments.”
Bastien examined the journal page. The symbol matched his discovery, though smaller and less elaborate. Beneath it, Charlotte’s distinctive handwriting filled the margins.
“What did she call it?”
“Soul imprint beacon. Designed to call a soul back to familiar ground, help navigation when the spirit gets confused about where it belongs.” Maman closed the journal. “Reincarnation magic.”
“The complexity of what I found suggests more than guidance. This is active calling.”
“That’s not Charlotte’s original work. That’s her design evolved, made stronger.” Maman’s stare carried weight. “Someone took her theoretical framework and turned it into something that could function across lifetimes.”
The words sent ice through his veins. “You’re saying that sigil actively draws a reincarnated soul to specific locations.”
“If Delphine’s been visiting it unconsciously, it’s working as intended.” Maman tapped his sketch. “Question you need to be asking is what other locations that girl’s been drawn to without understanding why or maybe even not knowing at all.”
Bastien felt understanding dawn. Delphine’s wandering through the Quarter, her inexplicable routes, her ability to find herself in significant places—none of it random.
“She’s following a network.”
“Charlotte was too smart to trust everything to one magical anchor. If she was serious about guiding a soul back to her, she'd create multiple connection points.” Maman rose and moved to her shelves, selecting a small vial filled with silver dust. “Safety through redundancy.”
Maman selected a vial of silver dust from her shelves. “Take this. Sprinkle it over your sketch, then any other sigils you find. If they’re connected, you’ll see the network light up.”
Bastien pocketed the vial. “What was Charlotte trying to accomplish?”
“Cheating death. Not for herself—for the chance to love again. She believed the right framework could guide the right soul back to the right circumstances.” Maman’s expression grew distant. “Give her another chance at happiness that was taken.”
“And Delphine?”
“Is proof that sometimes impossible just means 'hasn’t happened yet.'”
The secret chamber beneath the Lacroix estate in 1762, where Charlotte led Bastien through a passage hidden behind the library's false wall. Stone steps carved directly from earth descended into darkness lit only by her candle's flame. The air smelled of age and something else—anticipation made manifest.
“I wanted you to see this before I show you what I've discovered,” she said, candlelight flickering across features that seemed carved from shadow and starlight.