The Light Within (Shadow and Light Duology #2)

3. Julien

three

Julien

T hey had to see it to believe it.

Standing on the crest of the valley that overlooked Auri, Julien couldn't tear his disbelieving eyes away from the crack through the heart of it. The colossal fissure split their Institute in two, separating St. Caelum’s and the Aurelia Library from the Solstice Atrium and the Nexus Towers.

“It’s not that bad,” Elliot said, then scoffed. “I could easily jump that blindfolded.”

They’d spent the previous day, once they’d finally reached Darcy’s cottage on foot—Julien mourning the loss of Maz every step of the way—primarily in Darcy’s living room. Darcy and Julien warred for hours over who had access to her telephone. Eventually, Julien resorted to using her fireplace to send a note to Eleanor, hoping for any titbit of information.

Very little came.

What they did eventually hear was that their own Auri was the epicentre of the earthquake, which had reached a magnitude over seven. Oh, and there was now a massive crack down the middle of it.

“Ah, yes, Elliot, it’s no bother at all. We’ll all just jump over it and completely ignore it, shall we?” Darcy’s mood had soured throughout the day. She’d been fine when Julien had left her cottage that morning on the back of Elliot’s bike to collect Maz—seizing the first opportunity, once the town council had declared the main roads drivable again. Now, she was quick to snap.

Cinn cleared his throat. “At least the buildings look okay?”

Indeed, Auri’s structures were entirely intact—they had motetech to thank for that—though many of the lumenmote stone columns had fallen, now lying like scattered branches.

The same certainly couldn’t be said for many of Talwacht’s buildings. Would the public question why the buildings closest to the quake’s epicentre had remained standing, almost completely unharmed? Auri was often the butt of the locals’ jokes. That crazy place in the valley where all the foreigners worked, doing their science things . Would Auri come under more scrutiny now?

At least they had the other earthquakes that had happened simultaneously around the world to distract them. Every other large moteblessed hub had been affected by similar events, from their Asian base near Bangkok all the way to Vermont.

Darcy, staring towards the glowing barrier that encircled the entirety of the Institute, said, “The media has started questioning if we’re on the verge of the second wave of calamities. The world has already seen a rise in natural disasters over the last decade, but this is all pointing towards new levels. Calamities of Nineteen Sixty-Five levels.”

The Calamities of Nineteen Sixty-Five. Where everything mote-related had started. Or so they said. Soon after the series of volcano eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis and droughts had rocked the world, a miniscule handful of people had discovered they could see, and sometimes even channel, the ethereal flecks of energy now known as motes.

“Shit!” All eyes snapped to Elliot. He pointed to the far left of the valley. “Who are those people? Over there, close to the barrier.”

About a dozen figures, dressed in dark colours, huddled together near the glowing red line of the barrier. One approached one of the power poles, thin silver sticks containing motecells. Julien’s own department, Mote-Enhanced Engineering and Technologies, had designed the device years ago. Erectable in seconds, it blocked any physical movement of flesh from moving through it, repelling a person or animal several metres back upon an attempt.

“I doubt they’re up to any good,” Darcy said. She glanced at Elliot. “The gendarmerie must be about, though, surely?”

“Most of us are being sent into Talwacht to help with the clean-up today. I start my shift at three.”

A sharp intake of breath from Cinn. “Look!”

The intruders had done something to a small portion of the barrier—its red shimmer flickered before fading. How have they done that? Filing through quickly, the group moved forward with clear purpose, heading straight for the crack.

“Who are they?” Julien muttered, although he had a hunch. He squinted, unsuccessful in his attempt to zero in. But even if they were closer, it would have been impossible to see their faces, each head shrouded by a hood.

Elliot groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “I can’t ignore seeing this. I’ve got to run into HQ and see who’s on shift to help.” A second later, Elliot was partway down the hill, leaving them no room to protest.

Losing sight of the cloaked group was unavoidable, as they had to walk around the large crest of the valley to access the portion of the barrier that had been tampered with. Once they’d slipped through, Elliot insisted that Julien, Darcy, and Cinn remain there while he fetched assistance.

As soon as he’d turned the corner, Julien said, “So, you two are going to stay here while I go find our mysterious guests.”

Two simultaneous glares pierced him. Darcy simply sighed, green eyes rolling to the back of her head, while Cinn protested, “As if. Why do you even want to talk to them? ”

“He thinks they could be the Arcane Purifiers.” Darcy’s mind-reading skills were en pointe. “Although why he thinks they’ll be receptive to interruption is beyond my understanding.”

“Okay… We can try to approach them, I guess.”

Cinn took a step forward, but Julien’s arm flew out, blocking his path. “You’re staying here,” he said, more sharply than he intended. He winced. “In fact, go wait up the hill where we just were. They could be dangerous. In fact, we know they’re dangerous.”

A slight flush coloured Cinn’s cheeks, and his nostrils flared. “In that case, it’s too dangerous for you.”

“ I can protect myself,” he stated firmly, before pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Fuck that!” said Cinn, stepping towards Julien, unmistakable challenge in his narrowed gaze.

Darcy tugged at Cinn’s sleeve. “Don’t bother. There’s really no point trying to reason with him when he’s in this mood. Just let him go.”

“They literally blew up a building on my first day here! If it’s too dangerous for us all to go, then it’s too dangerous for him.”

“I’ll be back in five.” Julien spun on his heels and bolted away from them before Cinn succeeded in making him change his mind. He’d been impressively close.

The temptation to look back was remarkably strong, but Julien urged himself onwards. He’d made the right call. Cinn wouldn’t be able to follow him, because that would leave Darcy alone. Darcy, who apparently thought his entire plan ridiculous. But how could he pass up a fleeting chance to speak to the organisation that had potentially got his sister killed?

The cold afternoon sun was bright, forcing him into the shadows it created. Creeping around the edges of buildings, he passed through the numerous interlocking courtyards of the Veiled Gardens, inching closer to the fissure in the earth that had split the Institute in two. On either side of the path, trees stood stark and bare, their branches glistening with frost.

Julien froze.

A lone hooded figure stood underneath a large beech tree, facing away from him. Keeping guard? Julien pivoted, treading quietly as he took the longer route all the way around Caelum Hall. His fingertips glided over the cool, smooth surface of the ancient slabs of Roman stone the cathedral was composed of. Its weathered texture was a testament to the centuries it had lasted—it was the only building originally on this site, each of the others having been purpose-built around it.

Somewhere nearby, a bird squawked, interrupting Auri’s unusual near-silence. Julien quickened his pace. Who knew how much longer he had, before Elliot arrived with the cavalry?

It happened so quickly. One moment he was taking hurried steps towards the rift in the ground, eager to see it up close, and the next, a hand was over his mouth, and many arms were restraining him.

“Hmmhmmph!”

Julien’s teeth searched for flesh to bite, but instead found thick leather. His shoulders strained against the firm grip of his opponent. Blood pounded through his ears as he readied to reach for motes. If these two assailants thought it would be that easy, they had another thing coming.

“Wait! That’s Julien Montaigne.” A man’s voice. Deep. One he didn’t recognise. Julien tried to turn his head, but someone’s forearm pressed against his neck.

A pause.

Was his name about to work in his favour, or against him? These people would despise his father, who’d actively spoken out against AP. Yet, they may have counted Béatrice Montaigne as one of their own.

“Montaigne?” said the other at last. A woman. “So he’s… Why are you here, Julien Montaigne?”

The pressure on his neck slightly lessened. “Why are you here?” Julien spat, as he gulped a lungful of air.

The man grunted. “That’s it. I’m knocking him out. We don’t have time for this.”

He’d like to see the man try. But Julien also had more important things to be doing. “I came to see if you were who I think you are.”

“Yeah?” said the woman.

Again Julien tried to twist his head to see her, and again he was rewarded with a sharp jab to his neck.

“And who do you think we are?”

“Arcane Purifiers.”

There was a subtle shift in the grip of the man restraining him.

Julien was correct.

“And what business do you have with them?”

Breaking and entering the Institute, for one.

“I need to talk to them. To someone, at least. About… about my sister.”

Julien’s mouth dried as their silent pause stretched. After an age of tension, the man finally spoke. “Let’s take him to L. They might want to see him.”

Abruptly, they dropped their hold on Julien, and he half stumbled forwards before catching himself. He spun around, eager to put faces to the voices, to find them both wearing white cloth masks underneath their dark hoods, only a sliver of a gap for their eyes.

“This way,” the man grunted, moving forward without him. “Hurry.”

AP’s two guard dogs weren’t far at all from the rest of the group, by the jagged crack. It was easily two metres wide, now that he was near enough to assess it properly. Some of the cloaked figures were wrapping up whatever they had been doing—stuffing things back in bags, gathering in groups, gesturing towards the barrier.

Those who noticed Julien’s presence paused to stare .

“L!”

The woman attracted the attention of someone peering down into the depths of the fissure. Thin metal wire dangled from a coil in their hand.

‘L’ set down the wire before turning to them. They too wore the mask—it likely concealed a scowl, if their body language was anything to go by. Crossing their arms, they marched towards Julien and his two new friends.

“What’s going on? Who’s this?” the androgynous voice demanded.

Julien froze, his mind scrambling for words. Why hadn’t he rehearsed his opening lines on the short journey here? This was his one shot at finding out about Béatrice’s involvement in AP. He couldn’t fuck this up.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” he began. Please, please, Elliot, don’t come yet. It would certainly reflect poorly on Julien if he suddenly burst into this scene. “I’m Julien Montaigne. I’m here to ask you about my sister, Béatrice.”

Brown, inquisitive eyes appraised him, gaze raking over his blond hair, pale face, and grey irises the exact same shade as Béatrice’s had been. “Leave us,” L commanded, and two pairs of footsteps trailed away behind him.

“I know that she was working with you,” Julien hedged. It was something he didn’t want to believe to be true for many reasons, but denial would get him nowhere.

“And how do you know that?” L asked, voice perfectly light and pleasant.

Without even a flinch, Julien said, “She told me.”

“Liar.”

The gut punch the words caused was unexpected. How did this L person know so much about what Béatrice had and hadn’t shared with him, her own brother? Were she and L close? They must have been.

Closer than you and Béatrice.

Julien bit his nails into his palms to control the tempest gathering speed within him. “Someone fucked with her locket. That’s how she died. I want to know who murdered her, and why.”

Was this new information to L? It was hard to tell. They took a second to absorb his words, tilting their head slightly. “It certainly wasn’t us, if that’s what you think. Béatrice was an extremely valuable asset to our cause.” L’s voice softened to add, “And a good friend of mine.”

“Okay, fine. But what was she doing for AP that got her killed? Did you ever investigate it? Do you even care that you’re the reason she’s dead?”

Julien bit into his tongue, the pain refocussing him. The last question had slipped out before he could tamp it down, and now L was taking a step back, shaking their head.

Putain . He’d gone too far, his temper ruining his chance for more information.

“Of course we care,” L retorted, their eyes narrowing to slits. “If you want to find her killer, I suggest you start by looking a little closer to home.”

Julien blinked at L, thrown off course. Before he could open his mouth to reply, a low whistle shot through the air, starting low and ending high.

“Let’s go!” barked L, and within seconds, the dozen cloaked figures were mobile, moving towards Caelum Hall.

Non !

Julien stepped into L’s path. “Wait! If you really were her friend, help me.”

“Look at this,” L said, gesturing to the crack. “Look at what we’re doing to the planet. How many people will have to die, innocent people who have no knowledge and do not benefit from the world of motecraft, before the consortium takes note? Before your father takes action? ”

Julien raised his palms. “You don’t need to lecture me. I am not my father, believe me.”

They were alone now, the rest of AP was already out of sight.

L closed the space between them, grabbed Julien’s arm, and whispered a single name before passing him, to disappear into the shadows.

A single name.

“Eleanor Sinclair.”

Julien made no attempt to follow, remaining rooted to the spot.

Eleanor Sinclair.

Non. Julien laughed to himself, hollow and mirthless. L was mistaken. His mind refused to accept it.

He drifted towards the earth fissure, sinking to his knees to peer into the abyss of the jagged scar the quake had made upon the ground. The cool darkness of the gaping chasm, a touch larger than his arm, spun, beckoned him. Julien ran his finger over the edge of the crack, dislodging some dirt that tumbled to its demise. He peered into the depths, where darkness seemed to swallow the light, hinting at the size of the drop.

The crack ran all the way through Auri, and continued on for some length towards Talwacht.

The raw power of it pulsed through him. Followed by a sobering reflection.

Were AP right? Were motes—and the moteblessed that utilised them, relied on them—really responsible for the increasing number of catastrophic disasters that were indeed killing people? The fact that this latest wave had hit many of the larger moteblessed hubs was surely not a coincidence.

“Julien?”

When he looked up, he almost fell into the crack.

“ Eleanor ?” It came out with a croak. What were the chances?

The lines on her forehead deepened as she adjusted her glasses. “What are you doing here? The Institute is locked down. ”

Pounding footsteps approached. Elliot, plus six uniformed gendarmes, one of whom was their chief, Salvatore Gallo. The stout, burly Italian ran a hand through his short grey beard, nodding to Eleanor. “Madame. Pérez sounded the alarm that there had been a breach in the barrier.”

Eleanor frowned at Julien. Weighing up the cost of lying, he explained that they’d seen a group of suspected AP members break in and head to the fissure, but they’d been gone by the time he’d reached it himself. Throughout his tale, he couldn’t keep his eyes from boring into Eleanor. It was as if L had conjured her by saying her name. Was it possible L had sensed her coming, and that was the reason they’d said her name? Now he was being ridiculous. Julien shook his head, clearing it of nonsensical thoughts.

Salvatore Gallo unleashed rapid-fire instructions into a radio as his men fanned out, baton-shaped weapons at the ready, disappearing down various paths to locate AP members who had likely long since made their escape.

“Why are you here?” Julien asked Eleanor. “If nobody is meant to be here?”

Behind her, Elliot’s eyes widened at his blatant rudeness.

“The consortium all took the Baths to attend an emergency conference in New York, ordering the Institute be locked down for twenty-four hours. I had a few things to do first. I was on my way to the Baths when I saw you.”

Julien fought every instinct not to squirm under Eleanor’s continuing close observation of him. A friend to both of his parents, the woman had known him since he was a child. She definitely knew he was holding something back. But would she call him out on it?

“Well,” she started, pursing her lips. “I’m now late. But I will catch up with you, Julien, when I return tomorrow.”

Why did that sound so much like a threat?

Eleanor had taken only a handful of steps before Darcy and Cinn appeared, stopping dead when they saw her. The color drained from Darcy’s already pale face. Eleanor laughed, then shook her head in dismay. “Gallo, escort them all out for me, would you?”

Once she was out of earshot, Elliot said, “I’m fine to do that, sir,” and Gallo waved his hand in agreement, already turning his attention back to listening to incoming reports on his radio.

Julien rounded on Darcy. “Why are you two here?”

She smiled in response. It was not a nice smile. “Well, since AP left, running right past us—weak, defenceless us—awaiting your return at the barrier, we figured we might be allowed to follow after you.”

Julien’s gaze flicked to Cinn’s very much unsmiling face. He’d almost forgotten that he’d pissed him off earlier. Now it looked like he was going to suffer the consequences.

Physically pushing them, Elliot led them away, hissing, “What the hell?” into Julien’s ear.

A guilty shrug was Julien’s reply. He tugged Elliot away from the other two, who seemed quite content to march ahead without them, likely fuelled by their anti-Julien agenda.

“What time does your shift finish later?”

Elliot shot him a slanted, wary glance. “Eleven p.m. Why?”

“I need your help with something. Can you meet me back here? Midnight?”

“ Here ? Julien…”

Cinn spun around, narrow eyes combing over them both. “Well? What happened? Was it really AP, then?”

Julien lifted his finger to his lips. A gendarme could round the corner at any moment. “Let’s talk in the car.”

This answer did not seem to improve Cinn’s mood.

The four of them walked towards the broken barrier in silence .

Two officers now flanked the access point, one of them leaning on the metal pole. Adjusting the collar of his uniform, he winked at Julien and shot him a beaming, wide-toothed grin before raking his gaze over him with a smirk. It took a further moment of studying his—admittedly attractive—face before the memory of hooking up with him last year resurfaced in full-detailed glory. A summer solstice party, if he recalled correctly. Toned thighs for days, if he recalled correctly.

Of course, the gendarme’s attention was not lost on Cinn. He shot daggers at Julien, a completely undeserved scathing glare, considering he hadn’t even acknowledged the guy. Or returned his smile.

“Cinn,” Julien called, reaching for him, but he was already storming up the hill towards where Maz was parked.

The rock in Julien’s stomach was becoming heavier by the second.

Once they’d reached the car, Julien drove while filling them in on his entire conversation with the enigmatic ‘L’, holding back no details.

Elliot whistled. “Well, at least we’ve heard it straight from the horse’s mouth now. Fuck.” Julien glanced in the rear-view mirror to see him run a hand through his corkscrew curls, a morose grimace on his face. “I can’t believe she kept this from us. Seems like she was in deep too, from what you heard. Full membership, loyalty card and all.”

A hand squeezed Julien’s arm from the backseat. “Don’t let what this L said cloud your judgement. They’re coming to this with their own agenda,” Darcy said.

“Judgement of what?” Julien replied, to make her say it.

“You know, Eleanor and the ‘looking closer to home’ stuff.”

Julien scoffed, turning up the radio music to end the conversation. His brain quickly latched on to more pressing problems as his eyes constantly flicked against his will to a silent, brooding Cinn who stared out the window. Just how much trouble was Julien in now? He pulled up at the cottage to drop Elliot and Darcy off, giving Elliot the most subtle of raised eyebrows to accompany his casual, “See you later. ”

Then Julien continued driving, allowing silence for a beat or two, before he said quietly, “I can drop you off and then head back to Darcy’s.”

Cinn’s head snapped towards him so quickly, it almost gave Julien whiplash. “Why would you do that?”

“You’re angry at me. I figured you might have changed your mind about me staying over until my building is repaired.”

“Christ, Julien, you’re impossible.” Cinn groaned, raising his foot onto his seat to rest his forehead on his knee. “Of course, I still want you to stay. It’d be a bit pathetic if I didn’t.”

Julien couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as sweet, sweet relief washed over him. Cinn’s offer that morning, following an uncomfortable night’s sleep on Darcy’s living-room floor, of temporarily housing Julien was one he was so greedy for, he didn’t know what he’d do if it was ripped away from him. Perhaps he could somehow delay the repair of his glass wall indefinitely, if it meant guaranteeing waking up to Cinn in his arms every day…

“You’re a nightmare, you know that?”

“Who, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cinn snorted, lightly shoving Julien’s arm. Julien captured his hand, interlacing their fingers to place them on Cinn’s thigh, where they rested for the remainder of the journey.

Cinn’s little maisonette had always looked adorable from the outside, but was positively quaint on the inside.

“Why have we been hanging out at mine when we could have been experiencing these delights?” Julien said, nodding to the framed watercolour of a kitten catching a butterfly that hung in the living room .

“Just to be clear, none of this is mine,” Cinn said, folding his arms. “Figured you’d prefer your ivory tower to granny chic. But, for the record, I like that kitten.”

“Come here.” Julien threw himself onto the sofa and held his arms out. To his surprise, Cinn didn’t hesitate before joining him, pulling his legs up to lay his head on Julien’s lap. “So, are you done being mad at me now?”

“Depends. Are you done treating me like a defenceless kid and charging off into danger on your own? It’s so selfish.”

Julien smoothed the deep creases on Cinn’s forehead with his thumb. “Selfish?”

“Yes. It’s fucking selfish when you could get yourself killed.” The lines only deepened, accompanied by a scowl so fierce Julien had to fight back a laugh.

“So, would you miss me or something if I died?”

“For fuck’s sake, Julien, this isn’t funny.” Cinn swatted his hand away. “Just… promise me there’ll be at least a bit more discussion next time, before you charge off without a plan or backup.”

“Okay,” Julien lied, gazing into Cinn’s golden-amber eyes before pressing a kiss to his pretty head. His pretty head that he’d do anything to protect. “I promise.”

“You don’t need to baby me, alright? I can hold my own.”

You looked pretty fucking spooked when we took down Heino Richter in that warehouse, but fine.

“How are you feeling about the whole Béatrice thing now, really?” Cinn asked, his eyes fixed on Béatrice’s locket, which Julien idly twisted around his finger.

Julien’s heart lurched at Béatrice’s name, his shutter guards flying up lightning fast. This was the last thing he wanted to think about. He’d been busy pushing those thoughts down. Down, down, down . He closed his eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out Cinn’s question .

Knuckles brushed across his cheekbone. “It’s okay to be mad at her for keeping this secret from you.”

“I’m not.”

Another lie. He wasn’t merely mad . He was fucking furious. So angry he could punch something, relish feeling the stinging bite against his fist. So angry he could scream until his throat was hoarse.

He and Béatrice had been an inseparable duo for as long as he could remember. From the moment she’d crawled over to him as a toddler, looking up at him so trustingly with big grey eyes, reaching up to tug on his hair.

Béatrice was always a single step away from Julien’s shadow.

Always there whenever he needed her.

Always there to keep him in line.

Other siblings fought. But he and Béatrice fought to survive, together, those horrendous few years preceding his mother’s death, and then the indescribable ones after.

When she’d followed Julien, Elliot, and Darcy to Auri after graduating a year after them, he’d felt complete again .

He’d known everything about her. Or so he’d thought.

This cosmic shift in the understanding of their shared universe was one he couldn’t begin to fathom, let alone put into words.

And now, her final damning act—she’d returned as a shadow cat that refused to come anywhere near him.

Without conscious thought, he unclasped the locket. The silver chain spooled into the palm of his hand. He closed his fist over it, then slipped it into his pocket.

“Okay…” Cinn began, his voice trailing off as he watched the locket disappear. “Well. I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

The sincere statement, so heartfelt and genuine, caused a healthy jolt of guilt to shoot through Julien.

“Thank you,” Julien whispered, ghosting his lips over his cheekbone before kissing the soft lips already slightly parted for him. “I appreciate that.” You help me so much just by being here, right now, like this.

Julien would happily spend the rest of the day like this, entwined around Cinn’s warm body, but alas, life had other plans. “I need to drive back to mine and see if they’ll let me at least access my flat. Get clothes and such.” Enough belongings to stay forever. “And the paperwork I need for work.” And the equipment that would come in handy for his midnight rendezvous. Though Cinn didn’t need to know that part.

“That’s fine. I’m planning to send some Christmas cards back to England anyway. Darcy mentioned that the post office on the outskirts of town is still open, unlike the one in the town centre, which is just a pile of rubble.”

Julien made a retching sound. “Stop saying the C word. You’re doing it just to annoy me.”

“Once you try my secret-recipe roast potatoes, you’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“Only you would have a secret recipe for a fucking potato.”