The Conspiracy of Us by Maggie Hall Page A

the door partway shut behind her when she saw me. She was probably about my age, but at least six inches taller, and seemed to be part Asian and part European, with wide almond-shaped eyes, a blunt blond bob that was obviously dyed but perfectly highlighted, and heavy bangs. Since I’d just seen Padraig Harrington, I assumed she was a French actress or model, so I was surprised when Stellan said, “I’m taking her to a room on the fourth floor. Are they made up?”
    â€œOf course,” the girl said, her voice unexpectedly husky and bored. She made no show of pretending she wasn’t giving me a once-over, then frowned and switched to French.
    â€œAvery’s a guest,” Stellan answered in English. “Distant family of the Saxons, waiting here until they arrive. What are you doing?”
    The girl tapped her clipboard. “Keeping track of baby shower gifts. So far we’ve been promised artwork, highly trained military, next year’s Olympics . . .”
    â€œHer
assistant
of all people shouldn’t joke about it,” Stellan said, glancing in at the blond woman. “It’s important for all of our futures.”
    â€œNothing I said was a joke.” The girl gave a saccharine-sweet fake smile. Stellan frowned in response, and she rolled her eyes and disappeared back through the door.
    â€œWhat was that?” I hurried to keep up with Stellan’s long strides.
    â€œElodie wanted to know who you were. It’s uncommon to see strangers at a gathering like this.”
    â€œShe
was
joking, right?”
    Stellan laughed once. “I have things to do, so I’m going to take you to your room. Please stay there until I retrieve you.”
    To my surprise, he didn’t lead us out of the Louvre, but farther into the maze of hallways off the front sitting room. “I’m
staying
here?”
    â€œThe Dauphins live here, and for the moment, you are their guest. So yes.”
    â€œThey live here. In the Louvre.”
    â€œThat’s what I said.”
    Maybe it was better I wasn’t meeting my family right now. I couldn’t seem to put together a coherent thought, much less a whole sentence. It didn’t help that I hadn’t slept for even a second last night. I was starting to wonder if this was all a very vivid dream.
    With one last glance back at the party, I followed Stellan, keeping a close eye on everything we passed. Paintings and tapestries and bookshelves lined the walls all the way upstairs. I ran a finger over one of the shelves we passed, and my eyes caught a row of books, all a deep purple, each with a different symbol in gold filigree etched into its spine. On the book farthest to the left was that sun from the plane and from Stellan’s tattoo. Above it was another symbol, like a starburst with long rays emanating from a dark center, and a phrase in a few languages, including English:
Rule by Blood.
Below the sun, in smaller lettering, and just French and English:
Light in the Dark.
    I slowed and scanned the rest—an olive branch, some kind of wheel, and many others—including the compass from Jack’s tattoo, on the third book from the end. They all had the same
Rule by Blood
phrase and starburst, but below Jack’s compass, it said
Know the Way.
I did a quick count. Twelve books total.
    The Circle of Twelve, Stellan had called them. The Saxons were one, the Dauphins were another, and I assumed other families made up the rest. At least that made a modicum of sense.
    A dark-haired older man came out of a room at the end of the hall, nodding at us as he passed, and I slowed. He wasn’t famous, but I couldn’t stop staring at him anyway. His eyes.
    His eyes could almost have been deep blue, but they weren’t, not quite. No, they were a dark violet.
    They were exactly the color of my eyes.
    I had never, ever seen another person with my real eye color. The guy disappeared back into the party. He must