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By the light of Ember's lantern, I hurry along, poking my head in at every door I come across, to establish a sort of mental map of the place in case I have to come back. Given the time available, it's more than likely that I'll have to walk these icy corridors again, even if I would prefer not to.
Rhythmic footsteps approach. I have just enough time to duck behind a door and watch a handful of silent monks pass by. I imagine that the night is drawing to a close and that soon there will be so many of them that I won't be able to avoid them.
Now that I know they have cold-blooded killers in their ranks, the prospect of running into them is nipping at my heels. Since they've been eliminating our own since the dawn of time to preserve the secrecy of their hold, how many of them are ready to eliminate an unwelcome Sin Eater without batting an eye? My situation is like a kind of Russian roulette: at any moment, I could find myself face to face with a devoted lamb or a determined executioner. I would much rather not play.
When silence returns, I slip out of my hiding place and dart down the corridor. I have to finish my scouting as quickly as possible. I tiptoe along, keeping to the shadows, my hard-shelled rucksack as protection. Cells follow work and prayer rooms, and I feel as if I've traveled back in time to an unenviable medieval past. There’s no trace of modern comfort; not even electricity in most of the rooms.
Suddenly, I change dimensions. A rusted metal grate stands in the middle of the corridor, between two forks. Behind it, the path continues in darkness. What is it trying to protect? How do I get past it?
Above the passageway, a tightly packed row of strange gargoyles stare at me with piercing eyes. Do they mark the entrance to the catacombs? To the crypt? The mere fact that this passageway is restricted is enough to arouse my curiosity. What I'm looking for is probably there, but how do I get in?
I grasp the cold, rusty bars and shake the door, torn between urgency and the need to make no sound that would betray my presence. It barely moves. And yet, no matter how hard I inspect it, I can't find a lock or any mechanism designed to open it. At the same time, if an access pass had to be distributed to each religious person authorized to cross this junction, a mountain of keys would have been needed. There's got to be a way, I'm sure!
“So, girls, what's the secret?” I murmur, my eyes fixed on the motionless gargoyles.
“What secret?”
I jump. As if I'd been expecting an answer! Who is it? I can't make out anyone, especially as I hastily turned off my lantern at the sound of the voice.
What to do?
I have nowhere to escape and nowhere to hide. I have to face it.
“The one that opens this door,” I whisper, my breathing suspended.
“Ah, that one! Just—”
My interlocutor, still invisible, doesn't have time to finish his sentence before a flock of religious people rush into a nearby corridor.
“There's someone on this side!”
A movement grazes me, both light and powerful. This guy's no light-weight! In a matter of seconds, even though we're still in the dark, I hear the gate open.
How did he do it?
“Go ahead, I'll catch up.”
Although his manner surprises me and his motivation remains obscure, I don't hesitate and rush into the passage, taking care to close the gate. Absorbed by the darkness, I press on, my hand glued to the wall. It's only when I hear nothing more that I stop to catch my breath.
Where does this endless corridor lead? How come nobody tried to chase me? Have I actually gone unnoticed? Could this stranger have saved my ass?
After making sure I'm alone, I turn on my lantern and take in the surroundings. I'm in a stone tunnel, similar to those I've already visited, except that there are no doors along its smooth walls. There's obviously only one destination, which must be at the end of the tunnel.
A shiver runs through me.
Either I find what I'm looking for, or I'm done in like a rat. Maybe even both, who knows?
Although the outcome of this mission has never been in doubt, I'm struck by the prospect of a fatal result. Even if I find Ember's body, my story ends here. For good. Without ever again being able to see the one for whom I've made all these sacrifices. My love, my son: Lewis.
I tremble from head to toe, remembering the moments of fulfillment spent by his side; the same ones that come back to me every night before turning into unbearable nightmares. How happy I was to have him with me! He was a ray of sunshine in the winter of my life. Thanks to him, I'd had no trouble overcoming his father's abandonment, even though he had been the main cause.
We were both happy, until it was ripped away from me.
I had hoped one day to find him, but now I know that it will only be after his death—which I hope will be a long time off—that we will be reunited. Not before. We won't share anything while we're still alive. I won't be the support I had hoped to be for him. Never again.
I'm not even sure right now that he's okay. What if I've been chasing fantasies all this time? What if he's already gone, and my impending death brings us together, without further ado?
I'm rambling, shaking with tremors that could be the result of so many factors: fear, cold, lack...
