The key

The Count of Artois was a gentleman, discreet, and always in a good mood. Every morning despite his advanced age, he used to walk gracefully to the Auberge "Pas Perdus" on Main Street to have his coffee. As he passed, he cheerfully greeted everyone with a soft voice. Every day, he told new stories from one of the books in his massive library.

It was believed that the Count had so many books that it would take several lifetimes to read. He had books on everything: science and sorcery, astronomy, astrology, and history. There would also be books on the art of war, the different ways of making love, and manuals on psychology and sociology.

The Count's house in the capital of the Northern Province looked like all the houses on the street, rectangular with many large windows on the front.

He lived there alone except when the viscount of Frange visited him. All the province officers would then parade through his house, wearing their best suits. This period, which began after the siege of Georgia, did not last long. The house returned to its gloomy, deserted appearance soon after that.

However, the situation was not the same at nightfall. As the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the house, the cats began to poke their heads into the yard. Later it was the owls' turn to swirl around the property's airspace. Then, the crows took over until the early morning.

Why did this house attract so many animals in the evening? No one knew. These strange sightings led to irrational theories trying to explain the curious phenomenon. When the guardians were not mentioned, it was thought that the souls of the people the Count had killed had come back to torment him. Sometimes at night, people said they even heard dull and weird deep voices and strange screams coming from the house.

A week passed, and the Count did not set foot outside the house. People began to worry. Everyone was talking about him, but no one dared to knock on his door. No one knew if he was dead or had decided to leave. One day, a strangely dressed old man rushed into a carriage in the square. He asked to be taken to the house that everyone thought was abandoned. This request seemed strange to the young coachman, who thought it was a mistake and wanted to confirm the address. There was no mistake. It was indeed the Count's house the stranger had indicated.

The man, who was quite skinny, sat down on the back seat and nervously opened his waistcoat, showing a well-decorated white jacket. He carried a bag which he placed near him and then drew an enormous pocket watch from the coat. A wrinkle appeared on his forehead when he noticed the time. His head, which wore a white wig twice as big, turned towards the road. He then observed the sky while biting his quivering lips.

The coachman Tanis always tried to make the ride pleasant for his passengers. He used to tell the Count funny stories, adding scenes to make them laugh. He watched the man for a moment before moving the horse-drawn vehicle forward. He tried, with hesitation in his voice, to draw attention to the beauty of the sunset, attempting to distract the man despite everything. This one hardly paid attention to it. He passed a white handkerchief with a trembling hand on his forehead, sweating heavily. Sometimes he consulted his watch, and sometimes he nodded towards the road.

Once he arrived at his destination, he quickly drew a necklace from his bag and gave it to the young man. He hurriedly went down, specifying while walking away that the necklace was able to lighten the work of his master and protect him.

"Thank you, my lord," said Tanis while his former passenger walked away towards the house. The coachman asked if he should wait for him. The man nodded ambiguously, which meant to Tanis that he should stay. He took it upon himself to wait for his return in the car. Hours passed, and the traveler did not return, so the worried coachman looked for him.

"Wait for me there, my friend. I'll be right back," he said, patting his horse's mane before stealthily moving closer to the house.

He looked over the small wooden fence that reached his waist. No cast around. He pushed the wooden gate open and walked cautiously toward the front door. Something suddenly caught his attention. He slowly turned around. His horse was behaving unusually and weirdly. A shiver ran down his neck. A bright light was coming down the sky and descending frighteningly toward the house.

The young man stepped back and fell to the ground before crawling behind a bush to hide. The fireball crossed the yard and entered through the front window, which opened automatically before it. Frightened, the horse ran away as fast as he could.

Tanis waved his hand, but the horse prioritized his survival and rode away. The coachman was left alone, hidden between the pots. The heart pounding, his legs trembling, the young man knew he could not run away. He leaned against the wall of the house, panting, trying to regain his strength, his face marked by fear or the desire to mourn. He began to hear different voices, a strange conversation between his passenger and the Count.

"We have found the lost key. The expedition will soon set out to find it," announced Tanis' passenger.

"Is everything ready? Do the warlords know about it?" asked the Count.

"No, but they are ready to fight as planned," the visitor continued, glancing at the ground before adding another sentence almost tremulously. "The Algovis will bring out the drum to try to save him, and hopefully..."

"Chance! We must not count on chance," rumbled a third voice that Tanis could not identify. " Somehow, the other clans will know about the key. They will come for it, for they will want it for themselves. The time lost in Georgia must be made up. We can't afford to make the same mistake every time. The master is not happy. You know how he hates taking part in operations. It's in all of our interests that he stays where he is. Let's do everything possible to recover the key and end this story."

"One of our contacts must be in charge. When the war starts, we'll have everything we wanted to achieve our goals," proposed the trembling voice of Tanis' passenger.

The curious man climbed onto the porch and slowly crept under the window to observe the house's interior. Driven by curiosity, he wanted to identify the third person. His unknown passenger, seated in an armchair, was looking at his interlocutor, who had his back to the window.

All the cats were in the room, quietly sitting as if they were also attending the meeting. One of them turned his head towards Tanis and noticed his presence. The beast immediately went towards the man who was frightened. He knocked over some flowerpots in his attempt to escape.

The coachman turned and leaned against the wall, his heart racing. The cat stood before him when he was about to peek over the fence. He got up, jumped over the porch railing, and ran off down the street.