Birds of a Feather by Leslie Soule

Author:Leslie Soule
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, france, young adult, steampunk, french revolution, homework, alternate reality, gypsy shadow, grandma, leslie soule, age of steam
Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC

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Paris, at the Parc Moreau.

A crowd had gathered around the rotunda at the entrance of the Parc Moreau. The sun rose into a hazy pink morning as James Kite’s friend, the muscular Jean-Pierre, stood waiting. He held a rapier in each hand, the tips of their long, tapered blades facing the earth. Golden basket hilts covered Jean-Pierre’s hands.

“That map you gave me,” said James with a smile as he rubbed a silk handkerchief over his hands, “… that was a map to the city sewers. You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

Diane was about to respond, but her breath was halted.

James stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket and then raised his right hand, knuckles facing her as he grinned. There on his ring finger sat an exquisite moonstone cabochon. Diane drew in a sudden breath, and an unnamed terror clenched her spine. Heat rose to her forehead and flushed her cheeks as horror and anger fought for dominance within. She knew it was her mother’s ring because even at a distance, she could spot the triangular chip in the stone, half a thumbnail left of center.

“My Mother’s ring!” Diane shouted.

She pointed straight into the young man’s eyes and announced, “I challenge you to a duel, James Kite!”

James flashed an insultingly contemptuous grin. “I accept!”

“No, you mustn’t!” shouted Lydia. “We need you! The Birds need you!”

“Lydia, I must,” Diane replied, “… for us, for Cinque-Levier!” For all of us who still remember the storming of the Bastille. She was going to expose James Kite as the spy she knew he was. The piece of paper she’d found had confirmed it. It was a pay stub from Tri-Quest Corp, made out to James.

“We’re sticking to the traditional rules,” announced Jean-Pierre as he handed Diane and James each a rapier. “The first offense requires the first apology.”

“He made the first offense!” said Diane.

“I did not,” retorted James.

“If there is a disagreement as to who made the first offense, the decision rests with the second.” Here he pointed to his own chest. “And I refuse to take sides. Thus, the duel proceeds until first blood is drawn. James, choose your ground.”

James then walked over to a spot near the middle of the platform.

“Diane, choose your distance,” instructed Jean-Pierre.

Diane walked over to James and stood at arm’s length.

“Turn your backs to one another. Good. Now, on the count of three, you will turn and fight. Swords held at the ready.” Turning her back gave Diane the chance she had waited for. In only a moment, Diane’s sword dripped with the clear liquid poison she had coated the blade in. A pocket of her skirt held a vial of the antidote.

Jean-Pierre began the count, “One.” Both Diane and James turned. James’s blade whizzed past Diane’s ear and Diane’s rapier sliced into the sleeve of James’s left arm.

“Violation, step back!” commanded Jean-Pierre.

Diane ducked as James slashed the air. James continued to attack. She held her blade before her to defend herself. She didn’t want to kill him.

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