#18
DEC 09

“Mysteries Revealed”
By David Brashear



“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. LeBeau,” the Antiquary said. From his demeanor you would believe that having a nearly dead Thief mystically appear in his study was an everyday occurrence. He turned and filled a teacup, then handed it to Remy. It smelled delicious. “Please, drink this,” he said. “It will help open your throat.”

Remy sipped the tea. True to the Antiquary’s word, he could feel his throat loosening. “Why?” he croaked.

“Don’t try to talk,” the Antiquary cautioned. He started to reach out to touch Remy’s face, but stopped himself. “I could never allow anything to harm you, my son.”

“Son?” Remy fought to get the word out. “Are you my real father?”

The Antiquary gently laughed. “I am afraid not,” he said. “Unfortunately, nature denied me the ability to reproduce. But you were the closest to a son I ever had.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Remy asked. “My pere took me from de hospital.”

The Antiquary smiled. “My child, there is apparently much you do not understand. Allow me to enlighten you.”



Twenty-Five Years Ago

“I don’t understand,” Jean-Luc LeBeau said. Even being in the Antiquary’s presence made him feel filthy. This excommunicated Thief enjoyed his perversions a bit too much. “What do you want a baby for?”

“He is the one foretold,” the Antiquary said. He was seated on his throne and gently reached out to stroke a child’s chin. “I have studied the prophecies of the Old Kingdom, Mr. LeBeau. This child is Le Diable Blanc. And I must have him.”

“What for?” Jean-Luc asked. “Even you wouldn’t kill a baby.”

The Antiquary smiled. “Of course not.” Another boy entered with a glass of wine, which the Antiquary sipped before continuing. “He is the one chosen to be my heir. I shall teach him all about my Velvet Ministry, and we will live together forever.”

Jean-Luc studied the paper he’d been given. “All right,” he said. “Just make sure yo’ payment’s delivered in full to Minister Hoard.”

“Of course,” the Antiquary said. His hand had moved to begin stroking the boy kneeling beside him’s hair now. Jean-Luc left the room hurriedly. He had no desire to witness what he knew would happen next.

Hours later, Jean-Luc LeBeau again approached the Antiquary’s mansion, this time with a sleeping infant in his arms. He looked down again into the child’s face. The only time it had awakened was when he had swung away from the hospital toward another rooftop. Strangely, the child hadn’t cried. It had just smiled and watched with those strange eyes.

He froze as his hand reached for the bell. He found his eyes being drawn back to the sleeping infant. “A lifetime in de Velvet Ministry,” Jean-Luc whispered as he gently stroked the infant’s cheek. Despite himself, he felt his throat closing up. “Poor t’ing,” he whispered. A drop of water splashed on the child’s blanket. Jean-Luc suddenly realized he was crying. “I would do anyt’ing to change dis, but I’ve got to fulfill de contract,” he whispered to the baby. Suddenly a plan snapped into his head. Jean-Luc looked around to make sure no one was watching. He placed the baby on the doorstep and rang the bell. Before it could be answered, he scooped the child up and ran away. “Delivery as promised,” Jean-Luc reasoned. “Ain’t my fault he couldn’t keep you.” Jean-Luc vanished into the night as the door was finally opened.



Now “So you see,” the Antiquary said, “you should have been with me to learn all this time.” He paused as he studied how stiffly Remy was moving. “But there is enough time for more of this tale later. You appear to be injured.”

“Jes’ a little sore,” Remy admitted.

“That will never do,” the Antiquary said as he clapped his hands twice. A young boy appeared before him. “Please follow Jacob. He will draw a bath for you. When you finish, we will have dinner.” Before Remy could reply, the Antiquary had turned and left the room.



“Dat can’t be right!” Tante Mattie was riled. She stalked back and forth across her small cabin as Jean-Luc watched. He knew that all he could do was wait for her to calm down. “If it was true, how would dey have been able to hide dat baby all dis time?” Finally Jean-Luc realized that she was starting to lose steam.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know dat Gris Gris’s given me no reason not to trust him.”

“He’s an Assassin!” Tante Mattie retorted. “Isn’t dat reason enough?”

“I didn’t say I’m givin’ him a key to our home,” Jean-Luc said. “But from what he said, I’m willin’ to give him a little more rope.”

“Jus’ you be careful of yo’ own neck,” Tante Mattie said. “Even if he is being honest wit’ you don’t mean dat de rest of de Assassins will be.”

Jean-Luc thought a moment. “I understand dat,” he finally admitted. He looked at Tante Mattie with a despair in his eyes she’d never seen before. “But dis is my grandchild,” he said.

Tante Mattie plopped down on her worn couch. “Lord protect us from family,” she muttered. Finally she looked back at Jean-Luc. “You’ve got to make dis decision yo’self,” she advised. “Just remember, though. Yo’ de one who’s gonna have to deal wit’ de consequences, too.”

Jean-Luc was silent for a long time after that.



Remy’s eyes snapped open as he heard a slight sound. He slowly sat up in the huge marble tub and looked. A robe now lay nearby with a thick fluffy towel and his own clothes were gone. Remy slowly allowed himself to sink back into the water. He yawned. Despite the fact that he knew he should be on his guard, this was relaxing. Even the water seemed to have a slight scent… like roses. Despite himself, his eyes began to droop.



“Remy?” He turned as he heard the woman’s voice. Fontanelle stepped toward him, leaving the army of Chippendale’s dancers behind.

“Fonty?” he asked. “What’re you doing here?”

Fontanelle stroked her chin. “I believe you’ve got that backwards,” she said. “This is my dream. How did you get here?”

Remy shrugged, only faintly realizing he was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. He sat down in the cool grass. “No idea. Last I knew, I was in de tub.”

Despite herself, Fontanelle felt a smirk touch her lips. “That’s a sight I’d pay money to see,” she said. Then she remembered what she was concentrating on. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she said. She began pacing to think - eventually getting too close to one of the dancers. She brushed him off as he began pawing her with a quick “not now, Raoul,” and continued thinking. “I don’t like this,” she said. She finally stopped and approached Remy. “Where are you? You said you were in the tub, but where?”

“Why?” Remy asked. “Plannin’ on a visit?”

“Hardly,” Fontanelle said. “I just can’t shake the feeling you’re in danger.”

“I’m wit’ de Antiquary,” Remy finally said. Fontanelle’s eyes went wide.

“It’s worse than I thought,” she said. “I’m alerting Jacob and my employer. Be on guard,” she warned as everything went fuzzy.

“Sorry, Fonty,” Remy said as time began to distort. “Looks like I’m wakin’ up…”




A servant hurried into the Antiquary’s throne room after disposing of Remy’s normal clothing. The Antiquary beckoned him forward.

“Everything is in order,” the servant replied.

The Antiquary gently laid a hand on the boy’s head. “Excellent,” he said. “And the supper?”

“Will be prepared to your exact specifications,” the child answered.

“Well done,” the Antiquary said as he patted the boy on the head. “See that this continues.” The boy bowed and hurried out of the room.



Remy finally had finished his decadent soak. After pulling on the robe, he padded out barefoot into the adjourning bedroom. A suit lay on the bed. He didn’t even need to touch it to be able to know how expensive it was. He picked up the jacket and smiled. “Just my size,” he said to the empty room.

The Antiquary stood as Remy walked into the dining room. “Thank you for joining me,” he said. A child pulled out the chair as Remy sat down.

“T’anks for de invite,” Remy said. “And de suit.”

“I thought it would add to the evening’s ambience,” the Antiquary said.

“By de way,” Remy said, “I don’t wanna go leavin’ here naked. What happened to my clothes?”

The Antiquary smiled. “I took the liberty of having them washed. They were quite filthy.”

Remy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, I’ve never been much good when it comes to de laundry.”

The Antiquary held up a hand. “Do not worry. Tonight is a night of celebration!” He clapped his hands and children appeared carrying trays. They placed canapés on the men’s plates and withdrew.

“Fancy spread,” Remy observed.

The Antiquary smiled as he swallowed a bite. “This is a celebration,” he said. “Nothing less than the best will do.”

Remy folded his arms. “So you keep sayin’. What’re we celebratin’?”

The Antiquary stood and started down the table as the children cleared their empty plates and replaced them with soup bowls. “You really do not remember,” he said in amazement. He stepped behind Remy, who started to try to turn only to have the Antiquary’s hands gently clasp down on his shoulders.

“Today is the day my son has been returned to me,” the Antiquary said, his voice unusually choked with emotion.

Remy tried to stand only to have the Antiquary force him to remain seated. “I’m sorry `bout your luck back den,” he said, “but Jean-Luc LeBeau’s de only pere I need.”

The Antiquary laughed and released him. “You misunderstand so much,” he said as he returned to the head of the table. As he sat, he motioned. “Please eat. We can finish this discussion after dinner.”

Remy warily picked up his spoon. “How do I know you’re not up to somethin’?” he asked.

The Antiquary smiled again. “My dear boy, if you only knew how much this dinner had cost me, you would understand my reluctance to waste it.”



“Answer the phone, you idiot!” Fontanelle ranted. Finally she slammed the phone down and began trying to think. She finally grabbed the phone up and frantically dialed an emergency number.

New Son glanced down at the arm of his throne where a small light had begun flashing. He motioned and Courier escorted Jacques from the room. Without waiting for a response, Fontanelle alerted him to Gambit’s situation.

New Son scowled and called Courier back in. “It looks as though I have a job for you, Jacob,” he said with a smile.



At the Antiquary’s, Remy fought to keep his eyes open. It felt as if his head were wrapped in plastic. The servants quickly removed the salad plates and disappeared.

“What about de main course?” Remy asked, his speech slightly slurred.

The Antiquary smiled as he patted his lips clean. He stood and walked back around the table toward Remy. He finally reached him and stood behind him. He leaned down so that his breath was warm on Remy’s cheek.

“The main course is something very, very special, my dear boy,” he said as his lips drew back, revealing that his canine teeth were elongating into fangs.



To Be Continued...
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