Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 17.1: The Cemetery

After scaling the steps of the Philippe Auguste metro station, Reine stopped and checked her watch. She was already ten minutes late. Crossing the street, she hurried the remaining block and a half northward up the boulevard.

It was a hot, mid-June afternoon. Although she was wearing a light, loose sundress, by the time Reine arrived in front of the cemetery her face was flushed and sweat was rolling down her back. Because Max wasn't very specific in his instructions, she hoped this was the entrance he meant when he only provided the place's name.

While she waited, she sought refuge from the heat in the shade beneath one of the limestone towers framing the gate. The looming inscription - in tall, blocky letters - immediately caught her eye: SPES ILLORUM IMMORTALITATE PLENA EST. It was part of a quote from the Book of Wisdom: "And though, in the sight of men, they suffered torments, their hope is full of immortality."

Reine sighed. Not too long ago, she had foolishly pinned her hopes on perhaps becoming mortal and living a normal life with Gabe. But things didn't turn out that way. Although her physiology had become altered, she still had the majority of her immortal attributes. What good was eternal youth and faster than normal healing without him?

Checking her watch again, she looked up just in time to see Max step out from behind the stone towers. Dressed a lot more casually than during most of their previous encounters, he was even sporting a bit of stubble that accentuated his masculine features. His uncut hair also twisted into wavy locks at the nape of his neck, but the laid-back style suited him. Apparently, the man looked good in anything.

Stepping up to her, he handed Reine a small bouquet of wildflowers. "You look radiant."

She wasn't sure if his comment had anything to do with her new hair color - she'd ditched being a brunette and returned to her original strawberry blonde - or that it was now past her shoulders, so she ignored the compliment. "You should have just called me back," she said.

He flashed a radiant smile. "But then I wouldn't have gotten to see you."

"At least we could have met up in England," she returned what was now escalating into a war of words.

"I much prefer the continent to the Isles," he said without a hint of offense and held out his elbow toward her. "Shall we?"

With an exasperated smirk, Reine hooked her arm through his, and they began to walk. Taking the main path toward the center of the massive park, the location felt more like a place for socializing than for interment. The trees overhead framed the route, filtering the sun and creating a noticeably cooler environment than outside of the gates. Cupolas and statuary, elaborate carvings and scrollwork, as well as columns and arches all created magnificent reminders to the fleeting lives of friends and loved ones.

"And why did we come here, specifically?" Reine asked, anxious to break the silence. She still hadn't gotten a suitable answer as to why he wanted to meet in Paris.

Max remained relaxed both in his pace and tone. "It's a nice enough place as any for a stroll, isn't it? And you like this kind of stuff, don't you?"

Indeed, she was fascinated by such unique funerary architecture. The final resting place for more than a million people including many well-known individuals like Wilde, Proust, Moliere and Bizet, the cemetery was famous for its hauntingly beautiful tombs and memorial monuments. So while Max's remark was true, she didn't expect him to take notice, much less care. The fact that he did both pleased, yet confused her.

They continued to silently walk, dodging tourists consulting maps. Others snapped pictures of graves, some worn or covered with moss, others maintaining the glossy shine of polished granite. Occasionally, one would be surrounded by ornate, yet rusty fencing, but most were placed so closed to each other that there was barely room to walk between them.