Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Maman leaned closer without touching the fragment, examining details invisible to mundane perception. “Lord have mercy. That’s not just optical magic—that’s network architecture. This thing’s connected to every polished surface in range, treating them as nodes in a communication system.”
“How large a range?”
“Depends on the anchor artifact. Could be city block. Could be the whole Quarter. Could be…” She stopped speculating and withdrew a vial from beneath the table, uncorking it with care that suggested dangerous contents and she wanted to limit exposure. Three drops of amber liquid fell onto the shard’s surface, spreading in geometric patterns that followed invisible channels.
Maman muttered something quietly and gestured with her hand, passing over the piece of mirror. The liquid ignited. No flame, no smoke, just hot, blue illumination that revealed the structure beneath the artifact’s surface. The shard contained layers—dozens of them, glass compressed and fused through techniques that the required sustained heat normal forges couldn’t possibly achieve. And within those layers, symbols. Glyphs that reminded Bastien of Charlotte’s theoretical work but these had been refined through implementation.
“Reflective network topology,” Maman said quietly. “Each layer corresponds to the polished surface it’s synchronized with. Count the layers, you get the size of the surveillance grid.”
Bastien counted visible layers. Sixty-seven before compression made deeper structure impossible to distinguish. Sixty-seven connected panes, each functioning as sensor and transmitter, feeding information back to this central artifact.
“How do I disable it?”
“You don’t. Breaking one node doesn’t collapse the network—it just triggers redistribution to remaining surfaces. You’ll just send it elsewhere.” She corked the vial, expression grim. “Whoever built this system understands distributed architecture. They knew you’d find the shard. Probably wanted you to, so you’d understand exactly how exposed you are.”
This wasn’t surveillance—this was demonstration. Proof that privacy was illusion. Gideon wanted him to know exactly how exposed he was.
“The message said reflections tell truth while viewers lie,” Bastien said. “What does that mean?”
“Means someone’s playing philosophical games while they spy on you. Using your own research methods against you.” Maman paused, choosing words with care. “How much do they know about Delphine?”
“They invoked the Lacroix bloodline in the original note. They understand Charlotte’s work well enough to reference specific techniques. And they threatened her directly.”
“Then they know about the tether. They know about the soul-binding. And they’re watching to see what you’ll do now that they’ve made their presence obvious.”
Outside, the city continued normal routine. Delivery trucks navigated narrow streets. Tourists photographed architecture they didn’t understand. Street performers set up in Jackson Square. And somewhere in that mundane landscape, every window, every puddle, every polished surface had become potential surveillance point.
“I need to know who else practices optical magic at this level,” Bastien said. “Who has Charlotte’s knowledge, or access to her original research.”
“That’s a short list, cher. Most practitioners work with basic reflection—scrying, communication, simple glamour. What you’re describing requires understanding of dimensional overlap and temporal mechanics. Theory Charlotte herself developed and maybe three people living could implement.”
“Give me names.”
Maman moved to a filing cabinet whose contents spanned decades of intelligence. She kept paper files rather than digital records, storing information in formats that couldn’t be hacked or remotely accessed. She withdrew a folder thick enough to represent comprehensive research.
“Gideon Virelli,” she said, laying the folder on the reading table. “Published extensively on optical symbolism in medieval spiritualism. European education, independent means, known to collect rare occult manuscripts. Disappeared from academic circles fifteen years ago, resurfaced in private collector networks. Last confirmed sighting was New Orleans, eight months ago.”
The folder contained photocopied articles, conference proceedings, auction records showing purchases of reflection-related artifacts. And near the back, a paper that made Bastien’s celestial nature recognize threat before any conscious analysis confirmed the danger.
“Angelic Tether Theory: Divine Interference and Reflection Mechanics.”
The title alone suggested knowledge that shouldn’t exist outside celestial hierarchy. Bastien opened to the abstract, reading words that demonstrated understanding of concepts humans weren’t supposed to access.
This paper proposes that angelic tethers—spiritual connections between celestial beings and mortal souls—operate through sympathetic vibration analogous to optical reflection. The celestial entity serves as primary source while mortal soul functions as dependent image, bound through harmonic resonance that transcends physical separation.
Theoretical application requires artifacts capable of interfacing with both celestial and mortal frequencies. Historical precedent suggests certain bloodlines carry genetic markers facilitating this translation, creating individuals who exist simultaneously in multiple ontological categories.
The Lacroix family of colonial New Orleans represents the most documented example of deliberate tether cultivation across generations. Charlotte Lacroix’s experimental work demonstrates sophisticated understanding of optical mechanics applied to soul-binding theory.
The paper continued for forty pages, dense with citations that referenced sources Bastien had assumed were lost or deliberately destroyed. Theological texts predating organized religion. Alchemical treatises documenting experiments in spiritual manipulation. And personal correspondence—letters from Charlotte discussing her research in detail that betrayed how much she’d understood.