The Third Uncle

Chapter Twenty-Three: Saint & Sinner

Chapter Twenty-Three: Saint & Sinner

The blue whale is enormous. One whale could probably fill the entire market at Les Halles in Paris with its tail alone, and this particular blue whale was three times larger than that. Saint Geneviève and the whale exploded from beneath the turquoise waters of the bay, alarming the already distraught fleet of French ships. The sailors couldn't decide which of the two deserved their attention more, the shockingly large, azure whale, or the beautiful, blonde girl atop it. The Saint sat upon the smooth back of the mammal as comfortably as if she had been lounging in a breakfast chair. She was, unsurprisingly, well kept. Her long hair, and her longer hemlines were all unruffled, and untouched by the wind and water. Her skin didn't look the least bit damp, and only her rouged lips shone brightly in the golden sunlight.

Saint Geneviève quickly glanced all around her, taking in the surrounding sea, the bay full of ships, the panicked French fleet, and then up at the brilliant sky and the French Man O'war. The airship was descending quickly, spinning and slipping through the air like a drunken honey bee. She frowned worriedly, and bent forward, pressing her lips against the cool skin of the whale. 'Venez,' Saint Geneviève whispered to the creature. 'We must help our friends!'

The whale gave a great juddering shiver in response, shooting forward, its tale whipping and lathering the cerulean sea like a fresh meringue. It sent up a sun-kissed crest over them both, and then, whale and rider suddenly, silently slipped beneath the water once more.

The sailors that had been watching stared in shock at the empty sea. Save for the ripples that radiated out across the bay, it was as if the entire spectacle had been imagined. they looked at one another in disbelief, but just as quickly as Saint Geneviève and her whale had disappeared, the water began to churn again. Tiny bubbles rising angrily to the surface, and a sudden, furious explosion erupted as Geneviève and the blue whale flew upward, roaring toward the Man O'war.

When Clotilde decided she liked being Francesca, she also decided to ignore most of Napoleon's tiresome whims, because she had other priorities. Capturing, or killing Marie Antoinette? Easy, she thought ... or at least not that difficult. She glared at the thought of that Queen and her black dagger. I will make sure she meets my neighbours in Hell, she thought.

Clotilde placed her hands on her hips. Oh, to keep this body! That's what she wanted. She was going keep this body and do whatever it was she very much liked with it, and to Hell with anyone that wanted to stop her. The daemon raised her arms and clapped her tiny hands together. A black cloud appeared just above her head and lightning crackled to life around her, bolts flying off in all directions. They struck down the remaining masts, they stabbed with their fire-bolts, they slithered between the boards of the ship, they set fire to everything that burnt, and then they flew upward, and raced at Francesca and her friends, dancing over them with their deadly fulminations.

Gaspard and Rudolpho ducked and rolled as one, dodging the jagged electricity. 'Can you reach your brother?' He yelled at Rudolpho as smoke and fire roared across the deck. Rudolpho squeezed his eyes together, they were watering from the smoke and soot. 'Si,' he muttered, spying Antonio not six paces from where he crouched. 'You ok?' He asked Gaspard. 'Great!' Gaspard smiled. 'Hope you can swim!' They both laughed. 'Allora,' the Italian said, looking straight ahead. 'Andiamo!' Lightning stabbed into the ship as they ran. Rudolpho barreled up to his surprised brother, and easily lifted Antonio aloft with a grin. 'Oh ho, you feel three paninis lighter, I think!' Antonio grinned in spite of himself. 'Put me down, you big oaf! They just don't know how to feed me on this maledetto ...' He grabbed his brother's arm as the ship suddenly tipped in the air, another piece of it falling away. 'Ship!' He yelled.