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Back Dangerous Remedy
Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Paris, June 1794
  8. PART ONE
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. PART TWO
  17. 1
  18. 2
  19. 3
  20. 4
  21. 5
  22. 6
  23. 7
  24. 8
  25. 9
  26. 10
  27. 11
  28. 12
  29. PART THREE
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. 6
  36. 7
  37. 8
  38. 9
  39. 10
  40. 11
  41. 12
  42. 13
  43. 14
  44. 15
  45. 16
  46. 17
  47. PART FOUR
  48. 1
  49. 2
  50. 3
  51. 4
  52. 5
  53. 6
  54. 7
  55. 8
  56. 9
  57. 10
  58. 11
  59. PART FIVE
  60. 1
  61. 2
  62. 3
  63. 4
  64. 5
  65. 6
  66. 7
  67. PART SIX
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. 3
  71. 4
  72. 5
  73. 6
  74. 7
  75. 8
  76. 9
  77. 10
  78. 11
  79. 12
  80. 13
  81. 14
  82. Postscript
  83. A Ship in Le Havre Port
  84. Acknowledgements
  85. About the Author
  86. About Zephyr

Camille gave a bitter laugh. ‘He said England thanked me for my assistance. He’s their spy. You read in the duc’s journals that the English had been trying to do their own experiments. They must want Olympe for the same reason everyone wants her.’

‘That bastard,’ said Ada.

‘Poor girl,’ murmured Guil.

‘I’m not done with him yet,’ said Camille darkly.

‘Al first, though,’ said Ada.

‘Aren’t we too late?’

‘No – I saw his tumbril, he’ll be among the last up.’

A new light shone in Camille’s eyes.

‘Then we’d better get moving.’

Guil stopped Camille as they were about to leave. He held out an old pistol, the metal and wood battered and scorched.

‘I know it is no substitute for your father’s gun,’ he said. ‘But take this. It was mine in the army. I hope you make better use of it.’

Camille hesitated, a mix of emotions on her face, then closed her hand around the pistol and tucked it into her belt with a quiet thanks.

They left the church and wove through the backstreets towards the Place de la Révolution as the hour bells chimed. Time had nearly run out, but now they were in their element. They’d earned their name snatching people from the jaws of the guillotine. This time, Al’s life was on the line. They’d never failed to save someone yet, they wouldn’t start now.

The tumbrils were lined up along the river, waiting to unload their prisoners. Al was in the last wagon, stuffed in with a gaggle of other men. Ada tried to ignore the thunk of the guillotine falling at regular intervals, and the bay of the crowd as each head rolled. They perched at the edge of the Jardin des Tuileries opposite the ornate buildings of the National Assembly, blending with people flowing back and forth over the Pont de la Révolution. Al was there, right before the guillotine, and yet it still seemed such an impossibility.

‘We know how to do this,’ said Guil. ‘Surely we can do it now.’

Cause a distraction – snatch Al.

‘But look at the crowd! It’s huge. How will we get away?’ asked Ada.

A smile spread across Camille’s face.

Ada knew that look.

‘Guil, Ada, how do you fancy some role play?’

A matching grin lit their faces.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

13

Place de la Révolution