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AmyandDanneedYOURhelptostoptheVespers!

ContentsCover

Bird

StoptheVespers!

TitlePage

Dedication

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Chapter12

Chapter13

Chapter14

Chapter15

Chapter16

Chapter17

Chapter18

Chapter19

Chapter20

Chapter21

Chapter22

Chapter23

Chapter24

Chapter25

Chapter26

Preview

YourMission

Copyright

Florence,Italy

Dan Cahill didn’t realize just how many policemen there were in the world until hebecameaninternationalartthief.

At thisearlyhour, theSantaMariaNovella trainstationwascrammedwith travelers.Businessmen with briefcases, students chugging espressos, tourists with too muchluggage, and two teenagers, one with a stolen priceless thirteenth-century book in abackpack.

Thatwouldbehim.

Danhunghisthumbsonthestrapsofhispack,huggingitclosertohim.Healmostfeltthat Marco Polo’s original manuscript, Il Milione — the one that had been lost forcenturies until he andhis sister had found it hidden in theColosseum inRome—wasactuallyemittingheat.Wasthatwhyhewassweatingsobadly?

Orwasitthefactthatthereseemedtobeapolicemaneveryfivefeet?

“Poliziaeverywhere,”hissister,Amy,murmured.

“They’recheckingpassportsat theboardingplatforms,”Dannoted.Hewatchedasauniformedofficerstoppedtwoyoungstudentsabouttoboardatrain.TheywereolderthanheandAmy,butthegirlhadbrownhairtohershoulderslikeAmy,andtheboywaswirylikeDan.

Atleastheandhissisterhadfakepassportsanddisguises.Hecouldn’tgetusedtothesightofAmyinablondwig,andhisheavyframedglassesscreamedDORK,orwhateverthatwasinItalian.IlDorko?

“Whatwe need is a distraction,”Amymurmured. “If they look at our passports tooclosely,wecouldbeintrouble.We’vegottogetonthattraintoSwitzerland!”

“Becausewhen a deranged psycho gives you orders, it’s important to snap to,”Dansaid.

Thetexthadcomeonlyafewhoursbefore.

Perhaps you notice that your loved ones continue to accept our Vesperhospitality.Thisisduetoyourprevioustreachery.Theywillremainourguestsuntilyoucompletefourmoretasks.ThefirstofthesewillbeinLucerne,Switzerland.Isuggestyougetyourselvesthereimmediately,lestthenumberofourlittlepartydwindles.

VesperOne

TheirenemyVesperOnewasabigfanofthemockingtaunt.Everywordwasathrusttotheheart,lettingthemknowthathewasholdingmembersoftheirfamilyhostageandwaspreparedtokillthem.

Danstaredupatthetraindeparturesboardasifitwouldholdalltheanswers.Whywashehere,desperateandscared,insteadofbackinMassachusetts,tryingtoscamhimselfoutofmathhomeworklikeanynormalthirteen-year-old?

Wherevertheyturned,headlinesscreamedthenews:ILCRIMINEDELSECOLO!Thecrimeofthecentury.TheyhadstolenaCaravaggiofromtheUffiziGallery,andnowtheywereonInterpol’smost-wantedlist.Whichwouldhavebeensortofcoolifhedidn’thavetobeafraidofgoingtojailfortenthousandyears.

Liveswereon the line.Livesof people theyhadbecomeclose to, includingReaganHolt,TedStarling,andNatalieKabra.Twelve-year-oldPhoenixWizard.Andpeopletheyloved—theirUncleAlistairOhandtheirguardians,FiskeCahillandNellieGomez.Thatwas thehardest thing to bear.Fiskehaddisappeared inCalifornia, andNellie hadbeenkidnappedrightoffthestreetsofParis.

Thedestinationsontheboardblurred,andDanrockedonhisfeetwithweariness.Heheardthehissofanespressomachine.OverhisheadtheloudspeakerannouncedatrackchangeinItalianandEnglish.Everythingseemedtofadealittle.“I’msobeatIcouldliedownrightonthefloor,”hetoldAmy.“Whenwasthelasttimeweslept?”

“Day before yesterday?”Amy askedwith a frown. “I knowwhat youmean.This issomejetlag.Let’sgetacoffeewhilewemakeaplan.”

“Oh,yeah,jetlag.Thatmustbeit,”Danagreedashetrailedafterhertotheespressobar.“Notthefactthatwepulledoffamuseumheist,wentwithoutsleepandfood,andoh,yeah—didImentionthis—almostgotkilled?Jetlag.That’swhywe’retired.”

“Well,ifyouwanttogettechnical,”Amysaid,butshesummonedupasmileforherbrother.Shepushedballed-uppapermoneyatthecountermanandhelduptwofingersforcoffee.

“Iwonderwhathewantsustostealnext,”Dansaid.“IthinkImaxedoutmymuseumheistskills.”

“Ifwecouldjustgetonestepaheadofthem…”Amymurmured.ShetookthechangefromthecountermanandhandedanespressotoDan.

Hetookasipandhisfaceturnedred.Heletoutaseriesofexplosivecoughs,stampinghis footwith each one. Passersby turned and stared, andAmy saw a policeman’s gazesweepthecrowd,lookingforthesourceofthecommotion.

Shegrabbedthenow-emptyespressocupandputitbackonthecounter,pushingDanforwardandquicklymaneuveringhimthroughthecrowd.

“Isaiddistraction,”shehissed.“Notpandemonium.”

“Icouldn’thelpit,”Danwheezed.“Dude,whatwasthatsludgeIjustinhaled?”

“JustItaliancoffee,”Amysaid.“Look,thetraintoLucerneleavesinfifteenminutes.Wehavetotakeachance.”

Danscannedthecrowd.“Youknowwhatweneed?A—tuba!”

“Awhat?”

Danpointedwithhischin.Offtotheirright,atubaseemedtobefloatingthroughthecrowd. Dan began to follow it, with Amy trailing behind. Suddenly, it dropped out ofsight.AmyandDanskirtedafamilyrunningforatrainandsawaslenderyoungwomanslumpedona suitcase,holdinga tubaandcrying.A large stickerona small trunk readWILMINGTONWOWZABELLESEUROPEANTOUR.

“Distraction!”Dancrowed.

Theymoved forward, not knowingwhat they’d do or say but knowing they had theperfectopportunityfor…something.

“Needahandwith that?”Danasked thegirl.“Ihappen tohaveexperienceasa tubawrangler.”

Shelookedup,startled.Hereyeswereawarmbrownbehindherdelicatewire-rimmedglasses. She smiled. “Thanks, but I think I have it covered.” Dan detected a slightSouthernaccent.Suddenly,hereyesfilledwithtears.“Actually,Idon’t!Imissedthetrain,andIhavethetubaandallthecostumes!It’sallHeather’sfault.ShejusthadtogetherlastItaliangelatobeforethetrain.Shetoldmetojustwatchthetubafortwosecondsandshe’dcomeback.IfIdon’tmakeittoZurichintime,I’mdoomed!”

“Hey,we’regoingtoSwitzerland,too!”Dansaid.

“You are?” She swiped at her tears. “I’llmiss the concert.My suitcase is withMs.Mutchnik, andmy charger’s inmy bag, so I can’t even call them.And I c-can’t speakItalian!”sheexclaimed,hereyeswide,as thoughthiswasthefinalawful thingthathadhappened.

“Youcanborrowmyphone,”Amyoffered.“AndyoucouldtakethetraintoLucernewithusandthengotoZurichfromthere.Wecantraveltogether.”

“Really?Thatwouldbesoawesome!Europekindoffreaksmeout,y’all, to tellyouthetruth,”thegirlconfided,leaningtowardthem.“I’venevertraveledmuch.”Awkwardly,thegirlstruggledtoherfeet.Shestuckoutherhand.“VanessaMallory,fromWilmington,SouthCarolina.”

“MarkFarley,”Dansaid,rememberingthenameonhisfakepassportjustintime.“Thisismysister…”Hismindwasablank.

“Caroline,” Amy supplied. “But you can call me Carrie! We’re from Maine,” sheimprovised.

“It’ssoawesomethatIbumpedintoyou,”Vanessasaid,shoulderingoneofthebags.

Theyhurriedtothetrackandgotinlinebehindawealthy-lookingwomanwithalargetrunkandseveralsuitcases.Shewasdressedinafurcoatandhat,eventhoughitwasn’tthat cold. She spoke sharply to the police officer at the train door in rapid Italian. Heshrugged.

Finally,thelinemovedforward.AmypulledtheWowzabellestrunk,andDangrabbedthetuba.

“Onyourwaytoaconcert?”Thepolicemansmiled.

Vanessanodded.“We’reonaEuropeantour,”sheaddedproudly.

“AndwhatisaWowzabelle?”heasked.

“Awesomesingers,”Amysaid,handingoverherpassport.

Danwaitedwhilethepolicemanscrutinizedthephoto,comparingittoAmy.ThenhereachedforDan’s.

It seemed to take longsecondsbeforehehandedback thedocument.He ticketed thetrunk. “This will go in the oversize compartment — pick it up in Zurich. Welcomeaboard.”

OnlyDan heardAmy’s long sigh of relief as they boarded the train and found theirseats,stowingthetubaoverhead.

Danglancedoutthewindow.Amaninaraincoatwastalkingtothefriendlypoliceman.Hehadanoselikethebeakofaraptor,andhisdarkhairlookedasthoughhe’dblow-drieditwithanairplanepropeller.

Danlookedaway,checkingoutthestation,buthisgazesnappedback.Hedidn’tknowwhy,exactly.Maybebecausethemanwasn’tshowingtheofficeraticketorapassport,hewasjustleaningin,talkingtohim.Andallthewhilehisgazesweptthestation.

Detective,Danthought,asthepolicemanpointedtotheLucernetrain.

Themanscannedthewindowsashewalkedalongsidethetrain.Danshrankback.

HenudgedAmyandtiltedhishead.

“Can I use your phone, Carrie?” Vanessa asked Amy. “I really need to call Ms.Mutchnik.”

Vanessa leaned forward for the phone, andAmycrashedback against the seat.Nowshielded by Vanessa, she was able to watch the man as he moved, his gaze on thewindows.

Thetrainstartedwithalurch.Theysawhisfacebrieflyastheyslidpasthim.Hestartedtorunashetriedtocatchupandjumpaboard.Hadheseenthem?Thetrainaccelerated,andhewasleftbehindonthetrack.DanandAmyexchangedarelievedglance.Hecouldhavebeenjustaguywhomissedhistrain.ButsomehowDandidn’tthinkso.

“I’mperfectly fine,”Vanessawassaying.“TheFarleysareawesome—they’re fromMaine,whichis,like,theniceststateever.IhaveHeather’stuba,Ihavethecostumes,andIevenhaveasandwich.No,youdon’thavetomeetmeatthestation…oh,whatever.No!Don’tcallmyparents!Iamsoincrediblyfine.…”

AsthecityofFlorencereceded,Danfelthimselfrelax.HeandAmyhadlearnedduringthehuntforthe39Cluestograbrestwhentheycould.Heyawned.Theslightswayofthetrain reminded him of his grandmother Grace’s hammock on the lawn on a warmSeptemberafternoon,backwhenhehadnobodychasinghim, andnobodymissing, andnobodytosave.Hefeltasthoughhecouldfinallysleep.

Thehandcameoutofnowhere.Danalmostscissoredoutapowerfulkickbutwasgladhedidn’t.Didbreakingaconductor’skneecapgetyouthrownoffatraininItaly?

The guy said something in Italian. Then the English penetrated Dan’s foggy brain.“Ticketandpassport.We’recrossingtheborder.”

“Oh.Sorry.”Danhandedtheconductorhisticket.

“Grazie.”

“Denada,”Dansaid.

“That’sSpanish,”Amywhispered.

“No,it’swhatever,”Dansaid.“I’mtootiredtothink.”

“YouguyssleptthroughMilan,”Vanessasaid.

“Jetlag,”Amysaid.Herphonebuzzed.BynowDanrecognizedthesound.ItwasthespecialphoneVesperOnehadsenttothem,thephonethatheusedforhistextmessages.The DeOssie secure smartphone that was used by spies and soldiers. Vesper One hadreconfigureditsothattheycouldn’treplytohismessages.

Hecouldalwaysgettothem.Theycouldnevergettohim.Theguydidn’tplaybytherulebook.

Vanessastoodup.“I’mgoingtofindsomesnacks.Anybodywantanything?”

“Anythingcrunchy,”Dansaid.Hehandedheracoupleofeuros.“ButifyoucanfindAmericanpotatochips,we’llbefriendsforever.”

Sheflashedagrin.“I’llworkmymojo.”

AssoonasVanessastarteddowntheaisle,Amyscrambledforthephoneinherpocket.

Lucerneissuchagreatplacetoshop.Whileyou’rethere,canyoupickupadeVirgamappamundiforme?Don’tworry,youdon’thavetogiftwrapit.Ineeditsoon,though.Fourdaysfromnow,brightandearly.Orelse.

“Iwishthisguywouldstopmakingjokes,”Dansaidthroughgrittedteeth.“Andgivingultimatums.DoyouknowwhatdeVirgamappamundimeans?Soundslikeapastadish.”

“Mappamundimeans ‘worldmap,’”Amy said. She tapped out a quick text to theirresearchteamatthecomm.centerbackhomeinAttleboro,Massachusetts.Inalargeatticroom they had banks of computers, an array of handhelds, and sleeping quarters. Theyevenhadtheirownsatellite, theGideon.Amyhadspenta fortuneonacommunicationsbunkerincasesomethinglikethishappened.Shewasn’tparanoidorpsychic.Justwickedsmart.

RECEIVEDNEXTTARGET:DEVIRGAWORLDMAP.

Inlessthanaminute,areplycamefromherboyfriend,Evan.

GOTIT.ALLOK?

OKFORNOWAmytappedback.

ThenshepluggedthewordsdeVirgamapintothesearchengineonhersmartphone.

“‘ThedeVirgamapisamedievalmapoftheworldthatwascreatedinVenicebetween1411and1415,’”shereadtoDan.“ItwasdiscoveredinCroatiain1911.”Amyfrownedasshescrolledthroughtheinformation.“Thenitwentmissingforgood,rightbeforeitwasgoingtobeputupforauctioninLucernein1932.Itwaswithdrawnfromtheauctionandnobodyeversawitagain.Well,thatexplainswhyVesperOnedirectedustoLucerne.Weshouldheadrightforthatauctionhouseandseeifwecangetaccesstotheirrecords.”

Danfrowned.“Buthowcanwefindamapthatdisappearedalmosteightyyearsago?That’simpossible!”

“Haven’tyougottenityet?”Amyasked.“We’reexpectedtodotheimpossible.”

Danlookedatherbleakly.“Andwe’reexpectedtodoitfast.”

The train slowed, then stopped.Dan pressed his face to thewindow. “What’s goingon?”

“It’sokay,”Amysaid.“Whenwecrosstheborder,sometimestheychangepersonnel.”

Danwatchedasagroupoftrainconductorsleftthesmallbuildingandheadedforthetrain.Herelaxedbackintohisseat.

Then he shot forward again. Trailing behind the men and woman was a man in ashabbyraincoat.Amanwithmessyhairandsharpeyes…

“It’shim,”DantoldAmy.“Hecaughtuptous.He’sgoingtoboardthetrain!”

“Ibethe’sInterpol,”Amysaid,bitingher lip.“Wepassedsofar,butIdon’tknowifwe’llgetbytheinternationalpoliceforce.”

“WhereisVanessa?”Danwondered.“She’sourcover.IneverthoughtI’dsaythis,butsnacksjustaren’tthatimportant!”

Just then thedoorat theendof thecaropened.Theman in the raincoat entered.Hefollowedcloselybehinda trainofficial,whopolitelyaskedacouple for theirpassports.DantwistedandsawVanessaheadingdowntheaisle,herhandsfullofbagsofchipsandpretzels.Shesqueezedpastthemanandthetrainofficial.

Vanessawavedthebagsatthemcheerfully.

“Whew,”Dansaid.“She’sback.AreyoureadytobeaWowzabelle?I’lltakethetuba,andmaybeyoucanpretendtobeasleep…wemightfoolhim.How’syourSouthCarolinaaccent,y’all?”

AmygrippedDan’swrist.“That’s it!”sheexclaimed.“Somethinghasbeenbotheringmeaboutthatgirl.Whenwefirstmether,doyourememberhowsheintroducedherself?”

“Sure.‘Hi,I’mVanessaMallory.’”

“‘Vanessa Mallory from Wilmington, South Carolina.’ Wilmington is in NorthCarolina.”

DanslowlyturnedtolookatVanessa.Shewasnowblockedbyacouplewithababy.Impatient togetby,she tried tohelp themwith theirstroller.Dannoted the tight,angry

lookonherfaceasshesnarledaremarkattheparents.Suddenly,herprettyfacelookedhard.

Suspicionsstartedtoflipthroughhisbrainlikesomeoneshufflingadeckofcards.Whyhadshebeensofriendly?Howcomeshe’dagreedtotravelwiththemsoquickly?Ithadseemedlikethey’dbeentheonestoapproachherandoffertotraveltogether,butdidshesetherselfuptobeapproached?

They’dbeenplayed.Byatuba!

Amygrabbedherbackpack.“Comeon.We’vegottogetoffthistrain.”

LocationUnknown

“Ithurts,”Nelliesaid.

“Iknow,”Reagansaid.“Nopain,nogain.”

“Doyouthinktheymadethatexpressionupforbulletwounds?”

IfNellieexpectedReaganHolt,Olympic-leveltriathlete,tolightenuponher,shewasdreaming.NellieandReaganwere twohostagesstanding inabareconcretebunker,buttheymighthavebeeninanexpensivehealthclubforallthefocusReaganwasbringingtothe session. She’d refused to acknowledge thatNellie’s bulletwoundwas any big deal(“Oh, please, it was more like a graze.”), refused to concede that without properequipmenttheycouldn’ttrain(“We’vegotawallandafloor,don’twe?”),anddismissedtheideathatNelliecouldbetooweaktotry(“Thereisnotry.Onlydo.Yodasaidthat,andhewasawesome.”).

“Pain is pain,” Reagan said. “Gain is gain. If you don’t rotate that shoulder, it willfreezeup,andyou’llbenohelptoanybody.”

NelliewantedtorotateitintoReagan’schinforanice,satisfyingsuckerpunch,butsheknewhertormentorwasright.Sherolledhershoulder,lettingoutahissofpain.

FiskeCahillwincedandlookedoverathersympathetically.Inhisjumpsuithelookedso pale and thin. She was used to seeing him in black jeans and sweaters, an elegantbohemian.NatalieKabrastaredvacantlyatthesamespotonthewallshe’dbeenlookingat for the past twenty minutes. Nellie was still waiting for Natalie’s natural gifts as aschemerandafightertokickin.Sofar,nosuchluck.AlistairOhlaybackonthesofa,hiseyesclosed.Insomeways,Nelliethought,theisolationanddeprivationwerehardestonAlistair.

No… theywere hardest on PhoenixWizard. Phoenix sat on the floor cross-legged,onlyafewfeetaway.HestayedclosetoNellienow.Hewasonlytwelveyearsoldandhemissed his mother. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but Nellie could see every bit of thesorrowand fearhewasexperiencing inhis liquidbrowneyes.Shewinkedathim, thenmadeafacebehindReagan’sback.Hegrinned.

“You’redoinggreat,Gomez!”TedStarlingcheeredheron.Hecouldn’tseeher,buthecould hear her grunts and hisses,Nellie knew. Ted had developed phenomenal hearingsincehe’dlosthissight.Healwayssatinachairnearthedoor,justincasehecouldpickupnoisesfromoutside.ItwasTedwhohaddeterminedthattheymustbeunderground.

“That’s it. Gently now,” Reagan said to Nellie. “We’ll move on to the hard stufftomorrow.”

“This…isn’t…thehardstuff?”Nelliespitoutthroughgrittedteeth.

Reagangrinned.“Youreallyhatemerightnow,don’tyou?”

“Immeasurably.”

“Good.Givemeten.”

Nelliesighed.Hershoulderfeltstiff. Itached.Herstomachfeltempty.Whoeverwaspreparingmealsforthehostageshadarudimentarygraspofcooking.Peelpotatoes.Boil.Serve.Nellie’dbeenenrolledinacookingcourseinPariswhenshegotseized.She’dbeenabouttoenjoyacrisp,butterycroissantandacaféaulaitatherneighborhoodcafé…

Do.Not.Think.About.Food.

Nelliepushedagainstthewall.Shestraightenedherarms,thenwentforwardagaininamodifiedpush-up.

“Excellent,”Reagansaid.

“Ow,”Nelliegrunted.

“Onlyninemoreandyou’redone.”

Reaganhaddroppedtothefloorandwasdoingpush-ups.

“Five…nine… ten!”Nellie said.She sankdownagainst thewall, restingherheadagainstit.

“Ithink,”Reagansaidasshemovedupanddownlikeapiston,“weshouldallhaveaplantokeepinshape.”Shejumpedupandclappedherhands.“Okay, listenup,people.It’stimewesetupanorganizedscheduleforexercise.”

Alistairopenedhiseyes.“Mydear,Ihaven’texertedmyselfinyears.”

“Thenit’swaypasttimetostart,oldman.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ted said. “We need to keep ourmuscles active. And ourminds.They’retryingtoplaywithourheads.Classicstuff.Stripusofouridentities,notletusknowwhattimeitis…”

“Feeduscarbs,”Nataliesaid.

Nellie rolled her shoulder again. She felt perspiration break out at her hairline. Shehatedtoadmitit,butReaganwasright.Theyhadtobeprepared.Therewerethingstheycoulddo.

“I’m going to work on individualized training plans for each of you,” Reagan said.“Thisisgoingtobeawesome!”

Alistairclosedhiseyes.“Iwasright,”hesaid.“Thisishell.”

AmyandDanmovedquicklythroughthetrain,adaptingtheirgaittothegentleswayingmotion.Theypassedthroughthedoorsintothenextcarandthenthenext.Amyglancedbehindnervously.Theconductorwasmovingswiftly.Behindhimshesawtheinspector.Hadheseenthem?Washefollowingthem?

“We’vegottofindaplacetohide!”shehissedtoDan.“He’sgainingonus!”

Dan pointed to a doormarkedBAGAGLIO. “Remember that the guy said therewas aplaceforoversizedluggage?”

“Butit’sgottobelocked.”

Danwasalready fishing inhisbackpack.He tooka long, slenderpieceofmetalandslippeditbetweenthelockanddoorjamb.Heleanedinandwiggledit.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Amyhissed.“Andwhateveritis,hurry!”Sheglancedoverhershoulder.Theinspectorwasonlyacaraway.

Thedoorpoppedopenandtheyquicklyslippedinside.Thesmallspacewascrammedwithitems:bulgingoverlargesuitcases,trunks,boxes,andapetcarrierwithanorangecatthathissedatthemangrily.

Amyleanedagainstthedoorandwaitedforherheartbeattoslow.“Sincewhencanyoupickalock?”

“Remember when you paid that security expert to give a seminar at our summergathering?”Danasked.

For the past two summers,Amyhadgathered together theMadrigals, the under-the-radarbranchoftheCahillfamily,attheirmansioninAttleboro.Aftertheraceforthe39Clues,thecousinswhohadbeenwithAmyandDanattheend—whohadstoodtogethertostoptheCluesfromfallingintothewronghands—allbecameMadrigals.

Amyhadtakenituponherselftotrainthem.Shehadalsoinvitedexpertsinallkindsoffields—rockclimbers,computersoftwareengineers,racecardrivers,cryptologists—togiveshortseminars.She’dpresenteditinthespiritoffun,butshehadadeeperpurpose.Forthepasttwoyears,she’dbeenpreparingthemforthis.SheandDanhadtangledwiththeVespersbefore,andshe’dknowninherbonesthey’dbeback.She’ddreadedit.

Onlyafewmonthsafterthey’dreturnedfromtheCluehunt,FiskeandNelliehadtoldthem about a ring that theMadrigals had protected over the centuries. They’d gone toSwitzerlandwithFiske topickup theringfromGrace’sSwissbank.There, theVespers

had stalked them. One of them, Casper Wyoming, had almost killed them. She neverwantedtolookintohiscoldeyesagain.

Shetouchedtheblack-facedSwisswatchonherwrist.Thewatchfacenowcontainedthering.Hiddeninplainsight.Atleastshecouldkeepthatsafe.

“Iremember,”shesaid.“LawrenceMalley.Hewasanexpertinsecuritysystems.”

“AkaLightfingerLarry.”Dangrinned.“Hewasalsowantedinfivestates.”

“Great,”Amygroaned.“Isentyoutoatutorialwithacrook.”

“Itgotusinhere,didn’tit?”

“IguessI’mgratefultohim,then,”Amysaiddoubtfully.

“Don’tbe,”Dansaid.“ThefirstlockIopenedwasonyourdiary.Don’tworry,Ireadtwopagesandfellasleep.”

Suddenly, they heard voices outside. Amy and Dan froze. A voice spoke in rapidItalian. The doorknob rattled.Amy looked around frantically, but therewas no time tohide.

MoreItalian.Amyheardthewordchiave—key.

Asmack against thedoor,as if someonehadslapped it in frustration.Then footstepsheadingawayrapidly.

“We’dbettergetoutofhere!”Amywhispered.

“Sure,buttheycandotheheavylifting.”DanpointedtothelargeleathertrunkofthefashionableItalianladythey’dseenatthestation.“AreyouthinkingwhatI’mthinking?”

“Ihopenot,”Amysaid.“Becausethatwouldbeahugeproblemforme.”

Danwasalreadyusinghismetaldeviceonthelock.Itsprangopen,andheliftedthelid.Hebegantotossoutpilesofskiclothes,shoes,dresses,andsweaters.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Amyasked.“Thisplacelookslikethemallduringpromweek.”

Dandug intohispackandcameupwithamulti-toolgadget. Ithadahammer/pliersdeviceon the topandavarietyofknivesandcuttersconcealed in thehandle.“IboughtthisbabywhileyouwerelookingforachargerfortheDeOssiephone,”hesaid.Hebeganto use a tool to drill discreet holes in the trunk. “Nice trunk, but it’ll be better withbreathingholes.”

“Bothofusaregoingtofitinthere?”Amyasked.“Idon’tthinkso.”

“No,you’regoinginthat,”Dansaid.Heindicatedalongnylonbag.Amyunzippeditandsawasnowboard.

“Inhere?”

“It’sjustuntilwegetonaluggagecart.Thenwe’llgetout.It’stheonlyway.Look.”Heshook the luggage tagwith the printed destination at her. “‘Engelberg.’ These are both

gettingunloadedatthenextstop.”Amyswallowed.Suddenly,thelongblackbaglookedlikeacoffin.

Justthentheyfeltit:thesmoothdecelerationofthetrain.Therewasnotimetothinkofsomethingelse.Quickly,theystuffedtheclothesbehindapileofsuitcases.Danclimbedintothetrunk.

AmystuffedherpackandDan’sinthebottomofthebag,thenquicklyslippedintoit.

Shefeltthesnowboarddiggingintoherback.

“Butwhatif—”

Heshookhishead.“Wedon’thavetimeforwhatifs.Wehaven’tforalongtime.”

She looked intohis intentgreeneyes.Hewas right.Theyhadburst throughall theirwhatifslongago,startingwiththeworstoneofall.

WhatifGracedies?

Whatifwecan’tfindtheclues?

Whatifwegetcaught?

Whatifwegetkilled?

Eitherthingshappenedortheydidn’t.Allyoucoulddowasdealwithit.

Dan closed the trunk lid andAmywiggled one hand out and latched it, then zippedherselfintothebag.Sheclosedhereyesandbreathed.Theairfeltstuffyandsheplacedhermouth as close to the hole as she could. She felt the train come to a smooth stop.Footstepsapproachedinthecorridoroutside.Sheheardthedooropen.

Sheheardsomeoneenter thecarandcircle it.Even the footstepssoundedcareful…likethepersonwouldmissnothing….

“Niente,”someoneelsesaidimpatiently.

Niente…nothing.Shewasrelievedtohearthetrainconductorarguesomethingabouttheschedule.ShecouldpickoutrandomwordsinItalian,thatwasall.

She felt herself being lifted and tossed onto the luggage cart. The impact shudderedthrougheverybone.Suddenly,sherealizedthatothersuitcasesmightbetossedontopofher.Maybeeventhetrunk!Shepanickedandreachedforthezipperjustasthecartbegantomove.

Herheartbeattrippeddouble-time.Shewasrollingnow,andabumptoldhershewasoffthetrain.Shefelttherumbleofthewheels.Thenthecartstopped.

Sheeaseddownthezipperandtriedtopeerout.Allshesawwashardbluesky.Shefeltthechillofmountainair.Sheeasedthezipperdownabitmore.

The train attendant was stepping back onto the train. A porter exited the Engelbergstation, hurrying to meet the fashionable older woman surrounded by her suitcases. A

youngguy inabrightnylon jacket jumpedoff the trainbehindher—thesnowboarder,Amyguessed.

Theinspectorstoodonthestepofthetrain,coollysurveyingthestation.Waitingtoseeifthey’ddis-embark,sheguessed.Anymomenttheporterwouldheadthiswaytocollectthebags.

Amydaredtounzipthebagabitmore.Shecouldfeelthesharpgazeandthestillnessofthemanjuststanding,looking…waiting.

Some late-arrivingpassengershurried toboard the train.The fashionable ladypulledout her cell phone and thenpointed to the luggage cart, signaling to the porter that thelargetrunkwashers.

Thetrainwhistleblew.Go.Go.Go…

Thetrainbegantopullout,itsspeedwaytooslowforAmy.

Sheliftedherheadslightlysothathereyewasjustabovethezipper.Theinspectorstillgazedoutattheplatform.Atlastheturnedawayandslippedbackinsidethetrain.Withtrembling fingers she unzipped the rest of the bag and wriggled out, then grabbed thepacks and quickly zipped it back up. Shewas shielded from the porter by the stack ofsuitcases.Sheeasedovertowheretheleathertrunklayandflippedthelatches.

Thetrunkdidn’topen.

Thelockinthemiddlehadbeenclicked.Theportermusthavedoneitonthetrain.

“Dan!”shewhisperedfrantically.“Canyouhearme?”

“Openit!”Sheheardathumpashekickedthetop.

“Ican’t!It’slocked!”

“Stickit!”

“Stickit?”

“Notstickit!Pickit!”

Amyglanced over quickly.The lady in the hat gestured for the porter to hurry.Theyoungmanhadstoppedatavendorandwaspayingforasausageroll.Shehadsecondsbeforetheporterwouldcomeforthetrunk.

ShedoveforDan’sbackpack.Theslenderpieceofmetallayrightontopofhisrolled-upT-shirts.Shestuckitinthelockandwiggledit.Nothinghappened.

“It’snotworking!”

“Wiggleit!”

“I’mwiggling!”

Desperately,shereachedforDan’smulti-tool.Sheshovedthemetalpickbetweenthelockandthetrunk.Shehelditsteady,thenbroughtdownthehammerwithallherstrength.

Thelockblew.Springsrolledalongtheplatform.Thelockpingedasithittheconcrete.

Danpeekedout.“That’sonewaytodoit.”

“Comeon!”Amyyankedon his arm, pulling himout, and slammed the lid shut. Inanothertenseconds,theporterwouldbethere.“Assoonasheseesthebrokenlock,he’llstartaskingquestions.Theycouldarrestusforstealingthoseclothes!”

Danlookedaroundquickly.“We’vegottocrossthetrackstotheotherplatform.”

Theyheardthesoundofawhistleasatrainbegantorollintothestation.

Amypaled.

“Andwehavetodoitrightnow!”DangrabbedhispackandshovedAmy’sather.Shefeltthevibrationoftheoncomingtrainunderherfeet.

Atrainbegantoslideintothestation.Theyjumpedontothetrack.Amyfeltasthoughsheweremoving in slowmotion.All thosemonths andmonths of hard training didn’tseem to help her legsmovewhen fearwas drainingher of strength.Thepeople on theoppositeplatformturnedslowlytolook,theirmouthsopen.

Danpulledatherhandhardandsheleapedthelastfewinchesontothenextplatformasthetrainroaredintothestation.Theblastofairagainstherneckmadehershudder.

She bent over double, catching her breath. The waiting passengers stared at them,shakingtheirheads.

“Gutentag,”Dansaidcheerfully,andwaved.

“We’dbettergetoutofherebeforeweattractanymoreattention,”Amymurmured.

They quickly left the station and walked toward the center of town. “Let’s contactSineadandIan,”Amysuggested.“WecancirclebacktothestationandcatchacommutertraintoLucerneinabit.”

“Don’tforgetEvan.”Danbattedhiseyelashesather.“Oh,Evan,Imissedyouso….”

Amyignoredhim,but insideshe felt the instant floodofwarmth thatwascausedbyjusthearingEvan’sname.Onthetrain,shehadresistedtheimpulsetotypeImissyou.

Mostly, shemissed talking to him and texting himwithout other people hearing andreadingwhatshesaid.Alloftheirtextmessagestoeachotherwerenowpublicproperty.Evanwasno longer just her boyfriend.Hewas practically an honoraryMadrigal.He’dbeenenfoldedintothegroupbecauseofhistechknowledge,andhe’dbeeninvaluablesofar.

Theyfoundawoodenbenchunderastandofpinesandsankontoitgratefully.Forthefirsttime,Amyrealizedthattheywereinanastonishinglybeautifulplace.Themountainsroseabove them,alreadywhitewithsnow.The townwaspictureperfect,with timberedbuildingsandroadsfreeofcars.

“WhydoesSwitzerlandlooklikeonebigcuckooclocktome?”Danasked.

“Becauseyouhavenosoul,”Amyanswered.“OneofthesedaysI’mgoingtocometoaplacelikethisandactuallyenjoymyself.”Shetuggedattheblondwigonherheadandstuffeditinherpack.“Wow,I’mgladtogetridofthis.”

Dantookoffhisglasseswithfakelenses.“SowhodoyouthinkthatVanessaMallorywas?”heasked.Hefishedoutanapplefromhispackandbitintoit.“Acop?”

“Shecouldhavebeenworkingwiththeguyintheraincoat.It’shardtosay.”

“BettercontactAttleboro.Theymighthaveacluefortheclueless.”

Amyputherphoneonspeakerwiththevolumelowandaddedavideofeedsothattheycouldseeeachother.

Sinead’sfaceappearedonthescreen.“Ames!I’msogladyoucalled.Weweren’tsurewhathappenedtoyou.”

“Sorry.Wefellasleeponthetrain.Thenweranintoalittletrouble.”

Sineadfrowned.“Whereareyounow?Areyouallright?”

“We’refine.SomelittleskitownclosetoLucerne.We’recatchingthenexttrain.”

Suddenly,Sineadwasshovedoutoftheway,andIanKabrafilledthescreen.“That’senoughchitchat.Listen,wehavenews.We’vegotaVesperIDforyoufromCahillsinthefield.Erasmusdidacross-checkandconfirmedit.VesperSixisCheyenneWyoming.”

“Cheyenne?”Amyasked,herheartbeatspeedingup.“AnyrelationtoCasper?”

“Cheyenneishistwinsister.ButIhaveworsenews.Casperisdefinitelystillalive.”

AmyglancedatDan.Helookedaspaleasshefelt.JusthearingCasper’snamebroughtbackthefear.

Danswallowed.“Bummer.Andtheguyhasatwin?That’sjustwrong.”

“I’msendingaphototoDan’sphone.”

Danreachedforhisphone.“Bringmethefaceofevil,”heintoned.

“AnymoreinformationyoucangiveusonthedeVirgamap?”Amyasked.

Sinead entered the frame. “We’re checking someCahill contacts in Switzerland.Wethinkyoushoulddefinitelystartattheauctionhousewhereitwaslastseen.”

“That’swherewe’reheaded.”

Danhelduphisphone.“MeetCheyenneWyoming.”

Amystaredatthepictureofastrikingblonde.“Neverseenherbefore,”shesaid.

Danstudiedthephoto, thengaveastartofrecognition.“Oh,yes,youhave,”hesaid,bendingoverhissmartphone.

“Amy?”ItwasSinead.“I’mgoing to turnoff thespeaker.Evanwants to talk toyouprivately.”

Amyturnedoffthespeakerandpressedthephonetoherear.

“Ijustwantedtohaveamomentalone,”Evansaid.“EverytimeItalktoyou,itfeelslikethewholeworldislistening.”

Hearing hismurmur,Amy felt as thoughEvan had just enveloped her in one of hiscomfortinghugs.“Iknow,”shesaidsoftly.“Iwasthinkingthesamething.I’msosorrythatyougotdraggedintomymess.Youdidn’tsignupforthis.”

“Ididsignupforthis,”Evansaid.Acrossthemanymiles,sheheardthefirmnessinhisvoice.“You’reintrouble.Doyouexpectmetojustwalkaway?”

“Iwouldn’tholditagainstyouifyoudid.”

“Iknowyouwouldn’t.That’sonlyoneofthereasonsI’mcrazyaboutyou.I’vegotamillionmore.”

“Justamillion?”sheteased.

“Okay,amillionplusone—yourcat.”

Shegiggled.“You’rebondingwithSaladin?”

“SomebodyhastoprotectthatcatfromyourcousinIan.AndIevenfeedhim.Thecat.NotIan.He’sonhisown.Anyway,ifthatdoesn’tgetmePerfectBoyfriendstatus,Idon’tknowwhatwill.”

“Emptyingthelitterbox?”

“Hey.Ihavemylimits.”

Amylaughed.Shehadthephonepressedtoherearsotightlyitburned.Sheclosedhereyes,picturinghisface….

Ian’scrispvoicebrokein.“Allright,lovebirds,let’smoveon.Nooffense,butIbelieveAmyandDanmightneedashortcourseinstyleandclass.”

“Isthisthenonoffensivepart?”Danasked.“Ican’twaituntilyoureallyinsultus.”

“Let’sdealwith reality, shallwe?Youdon’t justwalk into an auctionhouse inyourjeans and backpacks. You have to blend in. And that’s going to be hard.” Ian sniffed.“Consideringthatyou’reAmericans.”

“Whatareyoutalkingabout,dude?”Danasked.“ThisismybestSpongeBobT-shirt.”

“Exactlymy point,” Ian said. “An auction is a place of taste and refinement. If youbargeinlookinglike…well,you…”

“Igetyourdrift, Ian,”Amysaid, cuttinghimoff. “Doyouknow themost exclusiveshopinLucerne?”

“Ofcourse.Here’san idea,” Ian said. “Videoyour trip to the store, and I canadviseyou.Orelseyou’llemerge looking likeamushroom,andDan likehe just rolledoutofbed.”

Amy sighed. Just when she started to almost like Ian again— after all, he’d flownacrosstheoceanandhadbeenworkingaroundtheclocktohelp—hissnobquotientwentthroughtheroof.

Shefeltasharpelbowinherribs.Danthrusthisphoneinherface.Hehadimportedthephotographintoasketchprogramonhisphone.He’dcoloredthebrightblondhairbrownandtheeyesdark.He’daddedabeautymarkaboveCheyenneWyoming’slip.

Amygasped.ItwasVanessaMallory!

Shequickly told theotherswhatDanhadfiguredout.“Butwhywasshetailingus?”shewondered.

“VesperOnewantstokeeptabsonus,”Dansaid.“Whatelse?”

“Remember, it’s in his best interest to keep you two out of jail,” Evan pointed out.“Maybehesenthertomakesureyougotovertheborder.”

“It’sstillcreepy,”Amysaid.

“Speakingofcreepy,sheprobablyknowswhereyouarerightnow,”Evansaid.“I’vebeen looking at the manuals for the Vesper phone. I’m guessing that there’s a GPSembeddedinit,too.”

Amy shivered as she glanced at the few pedestrians walking by. Was Cheyennewatchingthemrightnow?WasCasper?

“Canwedismantleit?”sheasked.

“Youdon’twantthemtoknowthatyouknowit’sthere.Butyoucanlearnhowtoturnitoffandon.You’vegottobecareful—it’sgottolooklikesatellitedisturbance.”

“LetDandoit,”Amysaid.“He’sbetteratthesethingsthanIam.”

ShehandedDantheVesperphone.Dantossedhisapplecoreintothebushes.HepriedoffthebackoftheVesperphoneandlistenedtoEvan.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Thenwhat do I… oh, gotcha. Cool.Awesome! Take that,V-One!”

“Canweturnitoffforabit?”Amyasked.

“Ithinkyoucangetawaywithit,”Sineadsaid.“JustgettoLucerneassoonasyoucan.There’sanauctionatthree.Thatcangiveyoucover.”

“Gotit.”Amysnappedthephoneshut.Shealmostwishedshedidn’tknowabouttheGPS.

ThatmeantthatVesperOnecouldgettothemanywhere.Anytime.

Lucerne,Switzerland

MilosVanekwas tired.Hewasalways tired.Hereliedoncoffee tokeepawake.Coffeeandduty.Hesat in thecaféonanupscalestreet inLucerne.He’dchosenit for its largewindows.Hewatchedthecrowd.Youneverknewwhenyoucouldgetlucky.

Tracing criminals… sometimes it was like a seed stuck in a tooth. Something thatnagged him, some small detail thatwouldn’t go away.A crimewould occur, a suspectidentified,asearchbegun.Somewereroutine.Andsomewereaseedinatooth.

Thisbrotherandsister—AmyandDanCahill.Hecouldn’tfigurethemout,andthatwas bothering him. Rich brats out for kicks? Most likely. Yet he dug a little bit anddiscovered that although theywere fantasticallywealthy they attended a public school,had not exhibited discipline problems, were not featured in the tabloids, did not giveinterviews,didnotappearinarealityTVprogram…noneofthethingsheexpected.

YetsuddenlytheyhaddroppedoutofschoolandheadedforEurope.Therewasasmallitem in a Boston paper about a fuel truck and a school bus and a possible attemptedkidnapping. It was the lack of detail that bothered him. Small article, then nothing.Schoolchildrenhadbeenendangered.Usually,Americanswentcrazyoverthingslikethat.

AndwithinafewdaysthesetwokidshadstolenapricelesspaintingfromtheUffizi.Atheftsocoolanddaringitmusthavebeendonebyprofessionals.

Butithadbeendonebychildren.

Then therewas the strange accusation fromanAmerican student thatDan andAmyCahillhadstolenthefirsteditionofMarcoPolo’smanuscript…amanuscriptthatdidn’tevenexist.Theaccusationhadbeenburiedinafile,butVanekhadfoundit,becausehedidn’tsleepmuchandhehadaseedinhistooth.

They’dbeenontheZurichtrain,hewassureofit.That’swhyhehadthetrainstoppedattheborder.SomewherebetweenthereandLucerne,theyhadgottenoff.Butwheredidtheygetoff?Andhowdidtheygetoff?

Kidscoulddisappearmoreeasilythanadults.Peopledidn’tnoticekids.Andthesekidswereso…neutral.SoblandinthatAmericanway.

Hispartnercameoutof the ladies’ room.Mostwomenwhen theyexitedabathroomappearedwithnewlybrushedhair,afreshswipeoflipstick.NotLunaAmato.Shewentinlooking likeaslightlyrumpledItaliangrandmotherandcameout looking likeaslightlyrumpled Italiangrandmother.Grayhair curlingaroundher face.Blackdress, flat shoes,

unfashionablejacketwithacoffeestainonthesleeve.Sharpbrowneyesthatcouldlookvacant,kind,ormerciless,dependingonthesituation.

He’d never worked with her before, but he needed someone who could blend in.Someonewhocouldapproachthekidsandnotscarethem.Heknewthey’dbeenclosetotheirgrandmother,GraceCahill.He’dbeenbettingthatthey’dbesuckersforsomeoneherage.

Amatosatdownand fishedan icecubeoutofherwaterglass.Sheplopped it inhercoffee.He’dworkedwithher for threedaysnowand theonly thingheknewaboutherwasthatcoffeewasalwaystoohotforhertaste.

She tookasip.“Zurich,”shesaid.“I think theywenton toZurich.Theycouldhavetakenanynumberoftrainsfromthestation.Thecityisbigger.Moreplacestofencetheartwork.Isayweheadthere.”

Vaneknodded.Shecouldberight.Itwaslogical,agooddeduction.Andyet…

Theseedinhistooth.Thenaggingfeelingthattheywereclose.

“Youcouldberight,”hesaid.“Butfirst,let’sseewhatwecanfindinLucerne.”

“Ican’tdothis,”Dansaid.

AmyandDanstoodonanexclusiveshoppingstreetinLucerne.Stepsaheadtheysawthe stone frontof theexpensiveboutique Ianhad told themabout.One itemhungonaskeletalhangerinthewindow,somethingblackandtinythatappearedtobeadressoratunic,ormaybeashirt?

If she couldn’t even identify the clothing, how could she pass herself off as afashionista?

“Wejuststoleapaintingandsmuggledourselvesoffatrain,”Amysaid,tryingtosoundconfident.“Andwecan’tshop?”

“Don’tmakeme.”Dangaveheramutelookofappeal.“Can’tyoudoit?”

“No.”Amyfeltherphonevibrate.Shehelditup.ItwasfromIan.

DON’TASKTHEPRICEOFANYTHING.DON’TSMILE.DON’TSAY “DOYOUHAVEANYTHINGCHEAPER?”DON’T

Amy shoved the phone back in her pocket. “Just pretend to be Ian,” she told Dan.“Comeon,theauctionisinanhour.”

Theypushedopenthefrostedglassdoor.Thereappearedtobeabout tengarments inthewhole store, each separated by a foot of polished stainless steel rod.Amy stopped,confused.Shewasused to the cheerful jumbleof fabrics andcolors at the stores at themall.ButmostlysheshoppedontheInternet,findingonesweatershelikedandorderingitinacoupleofcolors—usuallynavy,black,orgray.LastChristmas,whentheKabrashadvisited,Natalie’seyeshadflickedoverhersweaterandskirtandsaid,“Isthisaholiday,Amy,ordidsomebodydie?”

Whentheyhadbeenenemies,Nataliewouldhavepunctuatedtheremarkwithacruelsmirk,butthistime,she’djustshakenherheadandlaughed.AndgivenAmyabeautifulwoolscarfinaheatherybluefortheholidaythatAmyhadworneveryday.

Ofcourse,amonthlaterAmyhadreceivedthebill.

Danwasdoinghisbest IanKabra impersonation, lookingaround thestoreas thoughinspectingitforcockroaches.Amytriedtoturnhersnortoflaughterintoacough.

“Espresso?” The saleswoman materialized seemingly out of nowhere. Amy realizedthatthefull-lengthmirroronthewallwasactuallyadoor.

IfshewereAmyCahill,shewouldblushandshakeherheadno,justbecauseshedidn’twanttocauseanybother.SheimaginedwhatNatalieKabrawoulddo.

“Tea.Darjeeling,”shesaidinacurttone.

“Oh,notDarjeeling,sis,”Dansaid.“That’sjustsomiddleclass.”

“Lapsangsouchong?”thesaleswomanasked.

“Ijustadoredhislastcollection,”Dansaid.

Thewoman’stightsmiledimmed.“That’satea,”shesaidthroughpursedlips.Forthefirst time,her icygaze traveledover theirbulgingbackpacksandsettledon theirhikingshoes.

“Ofcourseit is,”Amysaid.“MybrotherandIareonholiday,”sheaddedcarelessly.“Wecamestraightfromboardingschoolandwe’reheadingtoourchalet,butMummyhasarrangedsomeparties,andwethoughtwe’dpickupafewthings.”

The woman appraised them coolly. It was clear that she didn’t believe Amy at all.“Perhapsyou’llbemorecomfortableinadepartmentstore.”

Amydidn’treply.SherememberedthataboutIanandNatalie—theyneverreactedtosomethingtheydidn’twanttoacknowledge.Theyjustpretendedthepersonhadn’tsaiditatall.Shehandedthesaleswomanacreditcard.“Whydon’tyoutakethis?Wedon’twanttowastetime.Justsetupanaccount.”

The saleswoman bit her lip. “I’ll only be a moment,” she said curtly. When shereturned,shemusthavecheckedoutthecreditlimitofthecard,becauseshewaswearingawidesmile.

“Pleasefollowme,”shesaidgraciously.“MynameisGreta.”

Greta led themintoaprivateroomwithplushsofasandawallofmirrors.Anemptyrack lined the other wall. She disappeared again, then reappeared with an armload ofclothes.Amygulped.Sothiswashowrichpeopleshopped.Theydidn’tevenhavetoliftahanger.Theyjusthadthingsbroughttothem.

Forthenexthalfhour,AmyandDanalmostdrownedinsilks,featherweightcashmeres,andsuppleleathershoes.Amywasoverwhelmed,butsheknewsheneededtobeefficient.Withinthirtyminutestheywalkedoutofthestoreinnew,impeccablytailoredcashmerejackets,DaninblackandAmyincamel.Underneathsheworeagreendresswithheeledboots.DanbalkedatthetiesbutchoseablacksweaterthatAmydeemedIan-worthy.Thelast thingAmy asked ofGreta, now their best friend,was to call up a private car anddriver.

“Do you knowhowmuch this purse cost?” shewhispered toDan as they sat in thebackseatonthewaytotheauctionhouse.Shepointedtothelargeleathersatchelonthefloor.“Morethanayearatafancyprivateschool!”

“‘Everyoneneedsastatementbag,’”Dansaid,mimickingthesaleswoman’saccent.

Amydirectedthedrivertopullthelimoupinfrontoftheauctionhouse.Itwasawhitebuildingthatlookedlikealargemanorhouse.

“It’stoobadwecouldn’tgetanyimagesoftheinterior,”Dansaid.

Thepeoplegoinginsidetheheavybrassdoorslookedso…important.Soself-assured.

Idon’tbelonghere,Amythought.

Avoiceroseinherhead.Nellie’svoice.C’mon,kiddo.Youcandoit.You’rerockingthefancythreads.Workit.

Amysmiled,butshefeltherheartconstrict.ShemissedNelliesomuch.

Theclotheshelped.Eventheridiculouslylargepursethesaleswomanhadinsistedsheneeded.Shesawsimilarpursesonthearmsofthechicwomenwalkingthroughthedoors.

Shetriednottowobbleinherheelsastheywalkedintothelobbyoftheauctionhouse.It was a double-height roomwith ornatemoldings and a gleaming floor. Aheadwas agrandcurvingstaircaseandtotheirrightwasapairofdoubledoors.Apetitewomaninablack suit andmany strands of large pearlswelcomed them inGerman, butwhen theyansweredsheswitchedtoflawlessEnglish.“Welcome.IamFrauGertler.Theauctionwillbegin in tenminutes.”Shehanded themacatalog. If shewonderedwhat two teenagersweredoingatanauctionforOldMastersprintsandpaintingsshegavenosign.

Danmovedclosertothewoman.“IwonderifImighthaveasecondcatalog,”hesaid.“Papawillbejoiningus.Bytheway,thosearefabulouspearls.Mummyhasasetjustlikethem,buthersareslightlylarger.”

Amynudgedhim.HewastakingthisIanKabraimpersonationwaytoofar.Theyhadtoblendin,notcallattentiontothemselves.

“Thankyou,”FrauGertlersaid,andleanedovertograbanothersmallstackofcatalogs.

The double doors to the auction roomopened, and they glimpsed a large roomwithrowsofgiltchairs.Anemptyeaselsatonanelevatedplatform.Peoplewerefilinginandsittingdown.

Amy’seyesmovedaroundthelobby.Shesawnowthatmanydoorsweretuckedawayin alcoves and underneath the stairs. Too many. Then she noted one that was markedBÜROS.SheknewthatwasGermanforoffices.ShenudgedDanandpointedtoitwithherchin.

Agroupof peoplewalked in andweregreetedby the chicwoman in theblack suit.Whileshewasoccupied,theypretendedtostrollandadmirethemoldings.TheybackedupagainstthedoormarkedBÜROS.

“There’saslotforakeycard,”Amymurmured.“SoIdon’tthinkyoucanworkyourlock-pickingmagic.”

“That’sokay,”Dansaid.“Ihaveakey.”

“Howdidyougetthat?”

“‘Fabulous pearls. Mummy has a set just like them,’” he mimicked himself as helookedupatthemoldings.Dan’sfacewassetinalookofconcentrationAmyrecognized.“Iknew…”ShesneakedalookandsawthatbehindhisbackDanwastryingtoslidethecardthroughtheslot.“…ifsheleanedover…fortherestofthecatalogsthatIcould…slipitout….”

Amyleanedback.“Aboutafractiontotheleftandupaninch,”shemuttered.

Danfoundtheslotandslidthecardin.Thedooropenedacrack.Withonelastglanceattheactivityinthelobby,theyquicklyslidinside.

Thedoorclickedshutbehindthemsoftly.Amyletoutabreath.

“Whendidyouturnintosuchacriminal?Ididn’tevenseeyoumove!”

“There’s a fine line between criminality and genius,” Dan said. “That’s whatLightfingerLarryusedtosay.”

Thehallwaywascarpetedinseveregray.Steel-framedartmarcheddownonewall.Theofficesontheirleftallhadglasswalls.Theycouldhearthemurmurofvoicesfrombehindadoortotheright.Amyputafingertoherlips.Theytiptoeddownthehallway,slippingpasttheemptyoffices.TheywereluckythatitwasaSaturday.Theglasswallsgavethema sightline into offices that looked like living rooms, with sofas and easy chairs andpaintingsonthewalls.Amystoppedshort.

“I think that’saRembrandt,”shewhispered,pointingatasmalldarkpaintingon thewallofthelargestoffice.“Isn’titamazing?”

“Sorry.Onlyoneartheistaweekforme,”Dansaid.

They tiptoedpastandkeptongoing.Finallyat theendof thehallway,adooron theright was marked REKORDBÜRO. Amy nodded, and, after listening for a minute, theycautiouslypusheditopen.Theofficewasempty.

“Whew,”Amywhisperedaftertheyclosedthedoorbehindthem.“Lucky.Ithinkthisiswheretherecordsarekept.”

Unliketheelegantofficesthey’dglimpsed,thisroomwassmallandcluttered.Asmalldeskwithafaxmachinewasshovedinbetweenatableandthedoor.Therestoftheroomwasfilledwithfilingcabinets.Theoldfilescouldberighthere.

“Idon’tthinktheywouldhavedigitizedtheirtransactionsfromeightyyearsago.Buttheyshouldhavedeadfiles.”

Amypeeredatthelabelsonthefilingcabinets.“Bingo.Thesearetherecordsfromthe1950s.Therearenorecordsforthe1940s…theyclosedthebusinessduringWorldWarTwo… so… here!” She stopped before the last filing cabinet. “The records from the1930s.”Sheopenedthedrawerandgroaned.“Thiscouldtakeawhile.Theyaren’tfiledbythenameoftheobject.It’sbydate.Weknowit’s1932,butwedon’tknowwhatmonth.”She handedDan a hanging file. “Let’s get started.Wehave to get this done before theauctionisoversowecanleavewiththecrowd.”

Sheopenedthefirstfile.Recordswerekeptinatiny,neathandwriting.Amyslumpedagainstthecabinet.“TheseareinGerman.Ofcoursetheywouldbe.”

“It’sallright,”Dansaid.“Itwillstillsay‘deVirga.’”

She andDan bent over the files. They had to keep the light off, so they used theirpenlights,flippingthroughpaperafterpaper.Theireyesalmostcrossedtryingtodecipherthethin,spideryhandwritingorfainttypewriterink,allwritteninalanguagetheydidn’tknow.Occasionally,theywouldfreezeiftheyheardfootstepsoutside.Amy’spalmsweredampwithnerves.Iftheygotcaught,whatwouldtheysay?

Finally,justwhenwildgoosechasewasstartingtodancearoundinAmy’sbrain,Danwhispered,“Gotit.”

Hepassedoverapaper.AmysawthewordsdeVirgaandmappamundi.

Amy’s heartbeat speeded up. Here it was, the original notes on the auction of theantiquemap.“Ican’treadtherest,”shemurmured.“Butlook—there’salistofnames:‘Prof. Otto Hummel… Jane Sperling…MarcelMaubert… Reginald Tawnley.’ Andthere’sanotationnexttoeachname.”

“Doesn’tIanspeakGerman?”Danasked.“Maybewecangetagoodenoughresolutiononaphotographtosendittohim.”

“Worthatry.Andifhecan’ttranslateit,hecanfindaCahillwhocan.”Amyspreadthesheetoutonthefloorandtookaphotographwithherphone.Shee-mailedittoAttleboro.

A loud noise sent them shooting to their feet. Amy looked around wildly, but Danlaughedsoftly.“It’sjustthefaxmachine,”hesaid.

“Make it stop,” Amy groaned. “Somebody might come in. We’re overstaying ourwelcome.”

Dan crept over to the fax machine. “I wonder if it’s somebody bidding on an OldMasterful.”Hemimicked a snootyBritish accent.“ I say, old chap, amillion for thatdrawingofthecow.Makethattwomillion….”

Amystareddownatthephone,willingittochimeananswer.WhenshelookedupatDan,hewasstaringatthefaxinhishand.

“I think you’re right about overstaying ourwelcome,” he said. Hewalked over andhandedherthefax.

INTERPOLMOSTWANTED

AMYCAHILLDANCAHILL

ALERTTOARTDEALERS,MUSEUMS,AUCTIONHOUSES

BE ON LOOKOUT FOR TWO SUSPECTS. CONFIRMED THEFT OFCARAVAGGIO MEDUSA FROM UFFIZI. CONSIDERED TO BE PLANNINGADDITIONAL HEISTS IN EUROPE. BELIEVED TO HAVE CROSSED THEITALIAN/SWISS BORDER. IF SPOTTED, CONTACT INTERPOL NUMBERBELOW.

“It’sfromsomeguynamedMilosVanek,”Dansaid.“He’sthedetectiveassignedtoourcase,Iguess.”

“Photosanddescriptions,”Amysaid,lookingatthenextsheet.“Thisisnotgood.”Shestaredatthephotosonthepaper.Theyweretheirrealpassportphotos,sotheyhadbeentakenafewyearsbefore.Onthefaxtheyweresmudgedandindistinct.Onepieceofluck,anyway.“Thiscan’tbetheonlyfaxmachineinthisplace.We’dbettergetoutofhere.”

TheyjumpedagainwhenAmy’scellphonevibrated.AmypressedSPEAKERandIan’svoicerangout.

“Simpletotranslate,”hesaid.“Easierthanhomework.Backin1932,somebodyattheauctionhousemadealistofpotentialbuyersforthedeVirga.Thosefournamesthathavethelittlecrossesandnotationsnexttothem?Theyweretheclientsthathadtobetreatedwithkidgloves.Hummelwasaprofessorbuthehadfamilymoney.JaneSperlingwasasocialitefromChicago.Maubertwasanartdealer—there’sanaddressinParis—andthelastone—Tawnley—wasanEnglishmanwhohadaprivatelibrary.”

Amylookedatthenamesagain.“Canyoudomoreresearchonthenames?”

“But why?” Dan asked. “We know they didn’t buy it. It disappeared before theauction.”

“It’stheonlyleadwehave,”Amysaid.Shefoldedupthepaperandslippeditintoherpocket.“TheauctionhouseknewthatthesefourpeoplereallywantedthedeVirga.Maybeoneofthemstoleit.”

“We’llgetbacktoyou,”Iansaid,andhungup.

Activityinthehallwayoutsidehadincreased.Theycouldhearfootstepsandvoices.

“Comeon,”Amy saiduneasily. “We’dbetter get out of herebefore somebody readsthatfax.”

When they cautiously cracked open the door, the gray-carpeted hallwaywas empty.Theyswiftlymadetheirwaydownit.Whentheyturnedthecorner,adoortotherightwasopen,andtheysawFrauGertlerstandingwithherbacktothem.Amaninadarksuitwithanearpieceapproachedandhandedherthefax.

FrauGertlerreadthefax,thensnappeditbacktothesecurityman.“Searchtheauctionroom,”sheordered.“Discreetly.Therearetwoteenagersherethatcouldpossiblybethem.Justkeepasharpeyeout.”Shehesitated.“Mykeycardismissing.Bettersearchthebackroomsaswell.”

If Frau Gertler moved an inch, she would catch them out of the corner of her eye.

Slowly,theybegantobackup.

Amy jerked her head. Next to them was a keypad. Dan took out the key card andswipedit through.Thedooropenedandtheyslid insideandclosedit.Theywere in theluxurious office they’dglimpsed earlier, the onewith theRembrandt on thewall.Theyleanedagainstthedoortocatchtheirbreath.

“We’vegottoditchthisplacefast,”Amysaid.

Danhurriedoverandcheckedthewindows.“They’resealed.Wecouldbreakone,but…”

“Alarms.”Amysaid.Hergazeroamedovertheoffice,andshefoundherselfstaringatthebrownandamberpaintingonthewall.TheRembrandt.

Alarms,shethoughtagain.Usually,theyweretryingnottotripthem.

Butthistime…maybeanalarmcouldhelp.

AmyslippedtheRembrandtoffthewallandturneditover.Justasshe’dhoped,therewasasmallelectronicdevicestucktotheback.

“It’s a sensor,” she said. “Remember when we came in? There was a securitycheckpointthere.”

“Andwe’regoingtosetoffanalarm?”Danasked.“Um,pretendI’mstupid,becauseI’mnotgettingthis.”

Amyopenedhernewhandbag,theonethathadcausedhertofeeldizzywhenshefirstheardtheprice.Theonlythinginitwasabagcontainingtherestofherlunch.Sheopeneditupandplacedthesensorinsidethesandwich.“Someoneelseis.”Quickly,sheoutlinedherplan.

“LightfingerLarryisgoingtocomeinhandyagain,”Dansaidafterheheardit.

They peeked out through the glasswalls. The corridorwas empty for now.Quickly,theyran to thedoor leading to the lobby.Danopened thedooracrack.“Theauction isover,”hewhispered.“Peoplearestartingtoleave.”

“That’sgood.We’llgetlostinthecrowd.”

“Notforlong.There’satleastfoursecuritygoonsatthedoor.”

“We’vejustgottogivethemabiggerproblemtohandle.”

Amypressedhereyeagainstthecrack.Peoplewerestillclusteringoutsidetheauctionroom.FrauGertlerstoodby,greetingcustomers,atightsmileonherface.Amynotedhowhergazedartedaroundthelobby.

Shequicklyscannedthelobby,focusingonthefashionablydressedwomen.

Asleekblondwomanstoodclosetothedoorway,checkinghersmartphone.ShehadaraincoatslungoveronearmandareplicaofAmy’spurseontheother.

“Thatone,”shetoldDan.“Ready?”

Theyslippedthroughthedoorandcameupbehindthewomanjustassheswitchedherhandbagtoherotherarminordertoputonherraincoat.

“Allowme,”Dansaid,steppinguptoassisther.

“Thankyou,youngman,”thewomansaidapprovinglyinaFrenchaccent.“AndtheysayAmericanyoungpeoplehavenomanners!”ShetwistedasDanhelpedheronwithhercoat.Dantwistedatthesametime,andthewomanwassuddenlytangledinhercoat.

“Sorry!” Dan smiled winningly, and turned again, now pinning the woman’s armaroundherbackasifbyaccident.

“Letmego,youngman!”

“Sorry…justaminute.IfIcanjust…getthisaroundlike…that…”

AmymovedupbehindDan.Shewastheretocatchthehandbagasitslippeddownandquicklyreplaceditwithherown.Withoutbreakingstrideshemeltedintothecrowd.

“Thereyougo!”Dansaid,finallygettingthewomanuntangled.“Haveagreatday!”

He caught upwithAmy, but they slowed their steps, keeping their heads down andconcealingthemselvesfromtheguards.Thewomanmovedaheadofthem.Asshepassedthesecuritycheck,apiercingalarmsounded.

FrauGertler’sheadjerkedtowardthecheckpoint.Shebegantopushherwaythroughthecrowd.AmyandDanwriggledcloser.

“MayIseeyourhandbag,madam?”thesecurityguardasked.

“Absolutelynot!Thisisabsurd!”thewomanprotested.

Thesecuritymanheldhishandout.“Madam.”Itwasn’taquestion.

“What’s going on?” a silver-haired man asked in English. Someone else askedsomethinginFrench.Amydidn’tneedatranslatortorealizethatrichpeopledon’tliketobepreventedfromdoingwhattheywantedtodo.

FrauGertlercheckedthesecurityscreen.“It’stheRembrandt,”shesaidinalowtonetotheguard.“Wehavetosearchthebag.”

“SomebodystoleaREMBRANDT?”Danyelled.“Whatkindofsecuritydoyouhavehere,anyway?”

“MyLeonardo!”someonecried.

“Goaheadandsearchher,butIhaveanappointment!”Amyshrilledabovethecrowd’smurmur.

“Ihaveaplanetocatch!”someoneshouted.

“Mydriveriswaiting!”astoutmaninsisted.

“Letthemallgoanddetainthiswoman,”FrauGertlermuttered.

AmyandDan joined thecrowd thronging toward thedoors.As theypassed through,theysawthesecuritymanholdupasandwich.

“Whatisit?”FrauGertlerdemanded.

“Hamandcheese,FrauGertler,”themansaid.

“Aha!”thewomantrilledtriumphantly.“Yousee?I’minnocent!I’mavegetarian!”

Whentheyhitthecoolair,AmytossedthepurseintothebushesandjumpedinthecarafterDan.

“Justdrive,”shetoldthechauffeur,andcrashedbackagainsttheseat.

FROM:V-1

TO:V-6

Remindmeofyourmissionagain?Oh,yes.SurveillanceoftargetsAmyandDanCahill.Thatwasit.Nowenlightenmeastothereasonforyourutterfailuretocompletemission.Caretocheckin?Orwouldyouliketocheckoutpermanentemente,cara?

VesperOne slammed the phone down. Took a breath, then another. Itwas a shame hecouldn’t do everything himself. He had to rely on the Wyomings for muscle andsurveillance.Theywerearuthlesspair.Buttheyneeded…prodding.

Fear was such a great motivator. Look at Amy and Dan, scampering around likehamsters,justforhim!

ThedeVirgamapwasthepieceneededforthenextstep.Thethoughtof itmadehispalmsitch.Hecouldfeelitdroppingintohishands.AmyandDancoulddoit.Giventherightincentive,theycoulddojustaboutanything.

Inanoddway,hebelieved in them.Certainly,hewas rooting for them.Theywouldcollectthepiecesandhewouldassemblethem,andthen…

Eyesclosed,heenvisioneditall.Whathewouldgain.Nothinglessthaneverything.

Cheyenne Wyoming shoved her phone back in her purse as she swung down theTrüllhofstrasseinLucerne.VesperOnewasmakingthreats.Inhisusualstyle,ofcourse,callinghercara,anendearmentinItalian,evenwhilehewasthreateningtokillher.

It had taken her years to work herself up to Vesper Six. After Casper had totallybotched the job inZermatt,whenhe’dalmostdied trying toget the ring…well, she’dvaultedrightaheadofhim.Casperhadbeenfurious.

And even she didn’t like to get on the bad side of her twin. The bad side was…extremelyunpleasant.Sherubbedherwristabsentmindedly.Thefracturehadrequiredasmallmetalplatetorepairthebone.Casperhadn’tlikeddiscoveringhewasoutandshewasin.

JustthenayellowBMWpulledovertothecurb.“Hey,wantaride,fräulein?”

Shestoppedandshookherhead.“Areyoucrazy,Casper?Whatareyoudoinginthatcar?Surveillanceissupposedtobecovert.Thatmeansnobodyissupposedtonoticeyou.”

Herbrothersmirked.“SpokenbythetubaplayeroftheWilmingtonWowzabelles?”

“Wasn’tIright?Didn’tthetubatotallydrawthemin?”Sheslidinsidethecarandhadbarely closed the door before Casper gunned the motor and took off. “Your timingcouldn’tbeworse.IlosttheCahills.TheGPSisallwonky.Satelliteproblems—itkeepsgoinginandout.”

Savagely,Cheyenne rippedoffherdarkwigand took thepinsoutofher longblondhair.Sheshookitanditcascadeddownpasthershoulders.Thenshetossedherglassesoutthewindowandpoppedoutthedarklenses.Shetiltedthemirroranddrankinthesightofherownbabyblueeyes.Shewasherselfagain.Immediately,shefeltcalmer.

“I’mgettingkindof sickofdancing toV-One’s tune,” shebrooded. “AndhavingV-Twobreathingdownournecksallthetime,waitingforustomakeamistake.”

“Word.Andnowyou’veplayedrightintoit.WemightgetdroppedfromtheCouncilofSix.”

Who’swe,bro?Cheyennewanted to say. I’m the one in theCouncil. Youdon’t evenhaveanumberanymore.

Butshecouldn’tsayit.Shestillneededherbrother.

“Nowit’sgoingtotakeusevenmoretimetoclimbuptheladder,”Caspercontinued.

She looked out thewindow as the picturesque streets of Lucerne slipped by. Streetswithfancystoreswiththingsinthemthatcostalot.Thingsshewantedanddeserved.

Aplanwasforminginhermind.“Itdoesn’thavetotakemoretime,”shesaid.“Notifwe’reproactive.”

AsmallsmilebeganonCasper’slips.“Oh,sister-friend.Iknowthattone.Whatareyouthinking?”

“Ifyouwantsomething,youtakeit,”Cheyennesaid,repeatingwhat the twosiblingshad toldeachother from thebeginningof their lives in crime.Backwhen theirparentsrobbedbanks,pulledscams,draggedthemalloverthecountry.CheyenneandCasperhadaddedInternetscams to thefamily’scrimes,and they’dpulled inmore than they’deverdreamed. Soon they were known in the criminal underworld. And to the FBI and thepolice departments of various states. So when the Vespers came calling, Casper andCheyennewereonlytoogladtoditchtheirparents(nowservingtwenty-fiveyearstolife)and join upwithV-1.Now theyweren’t just criminals— theyweremaster criminals,linkedintoaglobalnetwork.

Andshewasn’tgoingtogivethatupforanybody.

“HethinkstheCahillscanfindwhathe’slookingfor,”shesaid,tiltingthemirroragaintocheckoutherimage.“Butwhatifwefinditfirst?”

ThedrivercheckedoutDanandAmyintherearviewmirror.Itwasthesecondtimehe’ddoneitinlessthanaminute.

Dan’sfingersdrummednervouslyontheleatherupholstery.HetookouthiscellphoneandwroteatexttoAmy.

DRIVERCHECKINGUSOUT.WHY?

Amyrespondedinseconds.

NOTICEDITTOO.WESHOULDBAIL.

Casually, Dan pretended to adjust his backpack. Meanwhile, he looked over hisshoulder.Asedanslippedinandoutoftrafficbehindthem.Itspeededuptoavoidatram.

Atail?Orjustanaggressivedriver?

TheyweredrivingalongtheReussRivernow.LucernelookedlikeamashupofZurichandGenevaandZermatt toDan—picturesqueand impossiblyclean, thestreets fulloflaw-abiding citizens.Wide, curving streets, buildings painted in pale colors.Everythinglookedfreshandpretty.Itmadehimnervous.Whatheneededwasanarrow,dirtyalleytohidein.

Amybegantocough.Shebentover.

“Amy?Areyouokay?”

“IthinkI’mgoingtobesick,”shesaid.

“Driver!”Dancalled.“Pullover!”

Thedriverpulledover.Amytumbledout,followedbyDan.Shebentover,buthereyesswepttheroadway.

“Thedarkbluecar…”

“Iknow.”

Amywheeledandran,Danclosebehindher.Heheardhonkinghorns,andhelookedbehindthem.Thedarkbluecarsquealedtoastopatthecurb.

“They’recoming!”hetoldAmy.

Theyturneddownasidestreet,thenanother.DancouldseethatAmywasstruggling.Hissistercouldbarelywalkinhighheels,letalonerun.

Theroadcurved,andsuddenlytheywereattheriveragain.Itwasacrispfallday,andpeoplewerestrollingalongthewalkway.DanandAmyweavedthroughthecrowd,tryingtoputdistancebetweenthemselvesandwhoeverhadbeeninthedarkbluecar.

“Dan,”Amycalled,“Itwistedmyankle!”

She limpedbehindhim.Dansawsomethingahead,acrowdof tourists listening toaguideinfrontofawoodencoveredbridgethatspannedtheriver.

“Justafewfeetmore,”hesaid.“Hurry.”

Theymeltedintothecrowd.

“OneofthemostfamouslandmarksinLucerne,theChapelBridge,orKapellbrücke,istheoldestwoodenbridgeinEurope….”

DannudgedAmy.Theyskirtedthetouristsandbegantowalkacrossthebridge.Clomp,clomp…theirfootstepsechoedunderneaththewoodenroof.

“Areyouokay?”hewhisperedtoAmy.

“Icanmakeit.Ijustneedtositdownsoon.”

“Okay.Whenwecrosstheriver,we’llstop.”

Clomp, clomp… their footstepsmingledwith the sound of the tourists entering thebridgebehindthem.

Onepairoffootstepswaswalkingfasterthantheothers.

Danstiffened.HepressedAmy’sarm,andtheymovedabitfaster.

Clompclomp.Clompclomp.

Andthefootstepsbehindthemmovedfaster.

Clompclompclomp.

Fasteryet.Andthefootstepsbehindthemechoedtheirhurry.

“Dan…”Amywasclosetosobbing.

Hepressedherforward.

Clompclompclompclomp.

Thefootstepswererunningnow.Thepersonwasimmediatelybehindthem.

DansuddenlybrokeofffromAmy,turned,andbarreledintothefigurefollowingthem,straightintoastomach.Heheardthesurprisedoofandhekeptgoing,slammingthepersonintothewoodenrailingofthebridge,liftinghimatthesametimeinamovethatwouldgetahalfbackthrownoutoftheSuperBowl.

HejusthadenoughtimetoseeWilliamMcIntyre’ssurprisedexpressionastheirfamilylawyerflippedbackwardovertherailingandintotheReussRiver.

Mr.McIntyresatinthebackofthedarkbluesedan,wrappedinblankets.Histeethwerestillchattering.DanrefilledMr.McIntyre’smugwithmorehotchocolatefromathermos.

“I’mgettingtoooldforthis,”hesaid.

“I’mreallysorry,”Dansaid.“Ijustthought…”

“Youcouldhavecalledout,”Amysaid.

“Ididn’twanttouseyournames,”Mr.McIntyresaid.“AndIcouldn’trememberwhichaliasyouwereusing.Theyknowyou’reinLucerne.Ineededtogetyououtofthecityassoonaspossible.”

“So where are we going?” Amy held out her cup and Dan poured her more hotchocolate.

“Basel.ThirdlargestcityinSwitzerland.Youcanhidethereforabit.There’saplaceIknowwhereyou’llbesafe.Getagoodnight’ssleep.Youlooklikeyoucoulduseit.”Helookedatbothof them.“This isdifferent fromthe thirty-nineclues.You’renotonyourown.Youhaveasolidteambehindyou.Soreachout.”Hesmiled.“Justdon’treachoutandpushmeintoafreezingrivernexttime.”

“I’lltrytorememberthat.”Dangrinned.

Outsidethewindows,thesoftrainmadetheairlooklikesilvermesh.Thewetstreetsgleamed.Amysnuggledunder the softwool throw.Mr.McIntyrealwaysmadeher feelsafe,withhiskindgazeandgentle,deepvoice.Onlyhewould think topacka thermosandblanketsincaseoftrouble.

Shewassogladhehadn’tbeenkidnapped,too.Iftheylostallthreeofthem—Fiske,Nellie,andMr.McIntyre…itwasunimaginable.Amypushedthethoughtaway.Shewashere,andwarm,andcozy,andshebreathedinthecomfortMr.McIntyrealwaysbroughther.

Amysighed.“Idon’tknowifIcansleepuntilIfigurethisout.”

“Attleborohasalreadybeguntoresearch,”McIntyrereassuredthem.“AndIbroughtatreat.”Hereacheddowntothefloorofthecarandploppedablacknylonbagontheseat.Heremovedwhatlookedlikealargestainless-steelwatch.Heflippedupthefaceofitandtheysawadigitalmapwithagreendotonit.“ThisisawristGPSdevice.Andithasanaudiocomponentifyouneedit—sothatitcantalkyouthrougharoute.Comeswithanearpiece,too.”

“Awesome,”Dandeclared,reachingforit.

“It’salreadyconfigured toourGideon satellite.Youcan loadyour infoonto it usingthisflashdrive,”McIntyresaid.“Afteryouloadit,destroythedrive.”

Amyfeltthenextfewdaysopenlikeadarkholeshewasabouttofallinto.SheshookoffthefeelingandconcentratedontheobjectinMr.McIntyre’spalm.

“Thisisallsocool,Mr.McIntyre,”Dansaid.“Ifeellikeasuperspy.”

McIntyrehesitated,andforamomentthetall,gray-hairedmanlookedalmostboyish.“Afterallthistime…don’tyouthinkyoucouldcallmeWilliam?”

AmyandDanexchangedglances.Asfondastheywereofhim,theycouldn’timaginecallingtheirlawyerbyhisfirstname.

Hesawthehesitationontheirfaces.“Will?”

Amyclearedherthroat.DanfiddledwiththenewGPS.

“Howabout‘Mac’?”

“Mac,”Dansaid,tryingoutthename.

Mr.McIntyrelookedwistful.“IalwayswantedtobeaMac.”

“It’sperfect,Mr.McIntyre.”Amysaid.“Imean…Mac.”

“I just have to say one more thing.” Mr. McIntyre loaded the devices into Amy’sbackpack.Thenhelookedateachoftheminturn.

“Iamveryproudofyoutwo.Gracewouldbe,too.”

Amy’s eyes misted. She leaned forward and huggedMr.McIntyre. That didn’t feelawkwardatall.

Attleboro,Massachusetts

Evansatinfrontofthecomputerinthecommandcenterattic,hisheadrestinginhishand.Itwasmidnight.Thehousewasquiet.EvenSaladinwasasleeponastackofpapers.

Sinead slipped through the doorway and came to sit in the chair next to him. “Youshouldgetsomesleep.”

“Iwanttobeherewhenshewakesup.”

“Don’tyourparentswonderwhereyouare?”

“TheythinkI’minasleepoverstudygroup.AslongasIsaythewordsHarvardandextracurricular,they’reonboard.”

Sineadsnorted.“Look,theydidn’tgettoBaseluntilmidnight.Whenshecontactsus,I’llwakeyouup.There’sasix-hourdifference—it’sonlysixA.M.there.”

Evanshookhishead.“I’llcrashonthefloorifIneedto.She’sgoingtowantall thisinformationassoonasshewakesup.Andthere’sstuffIcandowhileIwait.”

“There’salwaysstuffwecando,”Sineadsaid.“Butifweworkourselvestoexhaustion,wecanmakemistakes.Andthatdoesn’thelpanyone.”

He knew shewas right.Around him the blue screens of the computers glowed.Themonitorsfromlocationsaroundtheworldweretemporarilydark.Tackedtothewallswereprintoutsfromtheirresearch.Sineadhadputupsixbulletinboards,oneforeachVesperintheCouncilofSix.

Theyhadrunoutofspaceonthewall,soEvanhadstrungawirefromoneendoftheroomtotheother.They’dbeguntoclothespinrandompiecesofinformationfromCahilltextsaroundtheworld.

Oneaftertheother,thepagesflutteredlikeflagsintheslightbreezefromtheheatingducts.Impossibletotellwhichshouldbeinvestigated,andinwhatorder.

Evanrubbedhisforehead.“ThatnotethatAmyandDanfoundfromtheirgrandmother.VSP 79 – Pliny described first test. How could all this circle back to some volcaniceruptionbackinItalyinA.D.79?”

“Wedon’tknow.Butwe’llfindout.”

Her tonewas confident. It remindedhimofAmy’s.Evanhadbeenplunged into theCahillworldlikeadeepwaterpool,andhewasstilltryingtostayafloat.Hestillcouldn’tquitegetoverthefactthathisgirlfriend,whomhethoughtofasshyandreserved,actuallyhadtheskillsofaninternationalspymaster.

AndSinead—hehadmetherplentyoftimes.ShewasAmy’sbestfriend,buthehadfoundherdistantandchilly.He’doftenfelt thathekeptfailingtopassa testshehadn’texplainedtohim.Butnowthattheywereworkingtogether,herealizedthatshejusthadahard time letting people in. And no wonder — Amy had told him that Sinead’s twobrothers had been severely injured in a freak explosion in Philadelphiamore than twoyearsago.Nowheknewthat theexplosionwascertainlyCahill-related,buthecouldn’tfindthecouragetoaskSineadaboutit.HerbrotherTedwasoneofthehostages.Nodoubtthatwaswhatgavehersuchincredibledrive.

Sineadcameoverandputherhandsonhisarms.Shegavehimashove.“C’mon.Gosackout.I’mgoingtorunafewprograms.IpromisetogetyouifAmychecksin.”

Hestumbledtohisfeet.Hefeltlikehiseyeswerefullofsand.“Okay.I’llcatchafewhours.”

Sinead’sgreeneyesweresteadyonhis.“Ineverknewhowmuchyoucaredaboutheruntilnow.”

Henodded.“Me,neither.I’lldoanythingforher.”

Sineadnodded.“Me,too,”shesaidsoftly.

Basel,Switzerland

Danwoke inapanic, forgettingwherehewas.He lay for a longmoment taking in theroom,thefloweredduvetonthetwinbed,thefloweredwallpaper,theflowerpaintingonthewall,thevaseofroses….

Gartenhaus.ThesmallinnonasidestreetindowntownBasel.Mr.McIntyre—Mac—hadleftthemherelastnight,urgingthemtogetsomesleep.HehadtoheadofftoseeaclientinRome.

Danglancedathis sister,curledup likeacomma in theotherbed.Aperfect time tograbashowerbeforeAmymonopolizedthebathroom.

Hestoodunderthespray.Despiteitswarmth,hestillfeltchilled.EverytimeheclosedhiseyeshesawNellie’sface,whitewithpain.

Nomoredeaths,hethought.IfIhavetolivethroughonemoredeath,I’llfallapart.

Heknewwhathehadtodo.Changetheodds.

Whenheemerged,hegavethesmelltesttoaT-shirtinhispackandpullediton,alongwithhisjeans.

Heheardagroanfromtheotherroomandstuckhisheadoutthedoor.

“I’msohungry,”Amysaidsleepily.

“Hey,youstolemyline,”Dansaid.

Therewasasoftknockatthedoor.Theybothtensed.

“Breakfast,”thelandladycalledsoftly.

AmyopenedthedoorandFrauSteinbustledin,carryingatrayladenwithrolls,cheese,sausages,eggs,jam,apotofcoffee,andapitcherofhotchocolate.

“Iheardthestirring.Idon’tknowwhatyoulike,soIbroughteverything,”shesaid.

Dantookthetray.Itsmelledlikeparadiseonaplate.“Thankyouabazilliontimes.”

“Idon’tknowthisbazillion,butyouarewelcome.”Shesmiledandwalkedout.

AmyandDanattackedthefood.Inmereminutes,theplateswerecleanandtheyweresitting, stuffed,with cups of hot chocolate. The food and sleep had helped. Theywereraringtogo.Butwhere?

“We’veonlygotthreedaysleft,”Amysaid.

“Andcounting.”

Amyspreadoutthepapershe’dtakenfromtheauctionhouse.Sheranherfingersoverthenames.“Aprofessor,asocialite,anartdealer,aguywithaprivatelibrary.Justwhatyou’dexpect.Andtheyallhavemoney.Sowhywouldoneofthemstealit?”

“And why would it stay hidden?” Dan asked. “It’s been eighty years. Why hasn’tsomeonefoundit?Whyhasn’tsomeonetriedtosellit?Itdoesn’tmakesense.”

Amyfrowned.“Attleborohasprobablyresearchedthesenamesalready.”Shereachedfor thecomputer. Inamoment theysawEvan’sconcerned face.Sineadwas rightathisshoulder.

“McIntyretoldusthathebroughtyoutoasafehouse,”Evansaid.“I’mgladyougottocrash.Wehavesomebackgroundinformation.Areyouready?”

“Ready,”Amysaid.

“Let’ssee…MarcelMaubertandReginaldTawnleybothdiedduringthewar.Butthisis interesting— theGermanprofessorwith all thedough?Hebecameabigguy in theNazi party.Hekilled himself—ormaybe someonekilled him—after theAllies tookBerlinin1945.AndJaneSperling—shewasasocialite—herfatherwasMaxSperling,whohadachainofdepartmentstoresintheMidwest.Shewasalsoamedievalscholar—studied at theUniversity ofChicago and thenwent toGermany.We’re betting that sheknewHummel,becauseshestudiedinHeidelbergattheuniversitythere.”

“Heidelberg,”Amysaid.“Wasn’t thatwherethefamilywhoownedthedeVirgawasfrom?”

“That’sright.Interestingcoincidence,isn’tit?”

“WhathappenedtoJaneSperling?”

“She moved to London. During the war she worked for the War Department as asecretary.Later,afterthewar,shemarriedaGIinMaine.Ledaquietlife.”

“Sothere’snotmuchthere,”Dansaid.

“We’llturnupsomething,”Sineadsaid.“Wejusthavetokeepdigging.”

“HaveweheardanythingfromVesperOne?”Danasked.

“Nothing,”Evansaid.“Asfarasweknoweveryoneisstillokay.”

Theyweresilentforamoment.Rememberingfaces.RememberinghowfarVesperOnewaswillingtogo.

“Well,”Amysaid.“Let’sgetmoving.”

Danhungup thephone.Amybentover thepaper,her fingermovingbackand forthoverthenames.

Shelookedupathim.“We’reonthewrongtrack.”

“Ididn’tknowwehadatrack.”

“Wekeepfocusingonthemapitself.Weshouldbethinkingabouttheworldaroundthemap. What was going on in Europe at the time? What did all those names have incommon?”

“Theywereallrich,”Dansaid.

“Thewar,”Amysaid.“Itwas1932.WorldWarTwowasstillyearsaway.Buttheworldwasgearingupforit.TheNaziswerecomingtopowerinGermany.”

Sheaccesseda searchengineon thecomputer.Dan lookedoverher shoulder.“Whatareyoulookingfor?”

“Noidea,”shemurmured.“Butsometimesyouhavetogofishing.”

Hesawher type inJaneSperling, thenstart to scroll throughmaterial. “Interesting,”shesaid.“JaneSperlingwasJewish.DidsheknowherteacherwasaNazi?Hangon.”Shetapped a fewmorewords into the computer and then turned back toDan. “Justwhat Ithought.TheNazistookoverthegovernmentin1933.Jewishstudentswerepressuredtoleaveuniversitiesasearlyas1932.Eventually, theNazisexpelled Jewish students fromeveryuniversityinGermany.”

“Ididn’tknowthatpart,”Dansaid.“Thoseguyswerenastydudes.”

Amy looked up. “Why was she at the same auction as her Nazi professor?Coincidence?Ijustdon’tbuyit.”

He tried to followAmy’s logic. He’d learned aboutWorldWar II and the Nazis inschool,hadreadbooksaboutit.Buttoputhimselfintheheadsofthepeoplewhoactuallylivedthehorrorofit—thatwasharder.Amyhadagiftforit.

“Shewasayounggirlalone—shewasonlynineteen,”Amycontinued.“Youcanbetherparentswantedhertocomehome.GermanywasturningintoascaryplaceforJews.Butshestayed.Shestayed,Dan!”Amysmackedthepillownexttoher.“Shehadcourage.So,maybe she knew that herNazi professorwas coming to bid on a famous historicaldocument. The family who owned the de Virga was Jewish.Maybe she was trying toprotectit!”

“Sowhydidn’tshejustbuyit?Shewasrich.”

“Maybeshewasplanning to.That’swhyshecame toLucerne—tooutbidHummelandtheothers.Butsomebodygottoitfirst,”Amysaid.

“Hummel?”

Amy’sfingersflewasshetypedane-mail.“I’maskingtheAttleborogrouptoresearchHummel.Thenwe’lldigalittledeeperintoJaneSperling.Ijusthaveafeelingthesetwoareconnectedsomehow.”

DanknewbetterthantoarguewithAmy’sfeelings.

“Look, research isn’tmystrongsuit,”hesaid.“Howabout Igooutandgathersomemoresuppliesforus?”

Amywavedahand.Shewasalreadygone, lost in the1930sand the livesofpeopleshe’dnevermeet.

“Backinanhour,”Dansaid.

Hehadalreadydoneaquicksearchonthetrain,usinghissmartphone.Heknewhedidn’thavemuchtime.He’dmanagedtogatherseveningredientsinItaly.Ifhecouldfindafewhere inBasel— three, at least—he’dhaveone-quarter of the serum ingredients.Andsome ingredients he could save for last, things he could pick up easily at any grocerystore:salt,mint,honey…thosewouldbeeasy.

Heblended in likea tourist inhis jeansand jacketandbaseballcap.Hestopped inapharmacyandinfiveminutesflathadleftwithasmallbottleofiodine.

Amywouldbefurious—andconcerned—ifsheknewhewasassemblingtheserum.Shewasafraidofit.Shewouldneverallowhimtotakeit.Shewouldsayitwouldchangehim—possiblykillhim.

Whatshedidn’tunderstandwasthathedidn’tcare.

The darkness was just … there. Sometimes it scared him. Sometimes it made himangry.Anangerhedidn’tknowhewascapableof,somethingbottomless.SeeingNelliewoundedandscaredhadsearedhim.Justdaysagohe’dheldadyinggirl inhisarms,astrangerwhohadtrustedVesperOne.

Amydidn’trealizethatyouhadtofightwitheverythingyouhad.Notjustyournerveandyourcourage,butthesecret,hard,darkplacesinsideyou.

Heplugged thenextaddress intohisGPS.Hehadfoundaplace,achemistrysupplycompanywillingtosellmercuryandphosphorus.Hehoppedonatramandtookittotheoutskirtsofthecity,anindustrialareawithwarehousesandofficebuildings.

He found the address and rang the bell on the steel door. Amoment later the dooropened.Aman,probablyinhistwenties,peeredoutandaskedhimsomethinginGerman.

“Gutenmorgen,”Dangrowled.

“Oh,you’reAmerican.AndaYankeesfan.”

Dantouchedthebillonhiscapnervously.“I’mtheonewhocontactedyouaboutthe…”

“Yes.Comein.”

He was led into a small office. Theman held up a glass vial. Dan saw the moltenmercury.

“Toxic,”themansaid.“Youknowthis?Youmustbecarefulhowyouhandleit.”

“Iknow,”Dansaid.“Youwouldn’thaveliquidgold,wouldyou?”

“Colloidalgold?Yes…howmuchwouldyouneed?”

“Quarterounceshoulddoit.”

Thetransactionwascompletedinminutes.Danshiftedashecountedoutthebills.Hecouldfeeltheman’seyesonhim.

“So.YoumustbeaNewYorker,”themansaid.“IloveNewYork.TheLionKing—excellentshow!”

Danturnedtogo.

“Idon’tthinkIcaughtyourname,”themansaid.

“Ididn’tthrowit,”Dansaid.

Helefttheplaceandwalkedquicklybacktothetramstop.Ontheway,hetossedtheYankeescapintothetrashcan.Toomanyquestions.Theguywasprobablyharmless.Buthecouldn’ttakeachance.

VesperTworeadthetextmessageandsmiled.

Dan Cahill hadmade several interesting purchases while in Basel. Sending out thatalerttoallchemicalsupplyhouseshadbeenabrilliantstroke.Amazingwhatthepromiseofalittlemoneycoulddo.Ifsomeonecomesaskingtobuyodditems,pleaseletusknow.Wewillmakeitworthyourwhile.

So,justasVesperTwohadthought.HewascollectingtheClues,thirty-nineingredientsfortheserum.

Theserumcouldchangeeverything.AndtheonlyonewhohadtheformulawasDanCahill.

Vesper One didn’t have to know just yet. He wasn’t convinced that Dan could beturned.Not yet.He didn’t realize completely that the ties of blood couldwork in theirfavor.

Notyet.Butsoon.

Amyleanedbackandrubbedhereyes.Shehadwindowafterwindowofresearchstackedon her computer. She’d spoken toEvan and Ian andSinead.They’d thrown theories ateachother,randomfacts,oddbits,wildguesses,hopingsomethingwouldstick.Nothingdid.

“Talktome,Jane,”shesaidaloud.“Youwerearichgirl,usedtocomfort.Londonwasbeingbombed.Whydidyoustay?WhydidyoustayinGermanysolonginthethirties?Whoareyou?”

She typed in Jane Sperling andWorld War II and scrolled through the results. Sheclicked on a page calledDownEasterner, a small-town paper inAngelHarbor,Maine.Amy quickly scanned the article, an obituary for Jane Sperling. She had died at ageninety-two. The obituary documented her early life, her studies at the University ofChicago,andthenthewaryears.

“Yes, I stayed in London during the Blitz. Oh, heavens, I was never heroic. Just asecretary for the OSS — I translated documents and things from German to English.BecauseI’dlivedinGermanybeforethewar.Ineverlookback.ThethingsIdidaredonenow.Alldownthedrain.”

“OSS,”Amymuttered.Shedidaquickwordsearch.TheOfficeofStrategicServiceswasthespyingarmoftheAmericangovernmentduringthewar!

AmyclickedbacktotheresearchEvanandIanhadsent.ProfessorHummelhadturnedouttobeonesuperbadNazi.He’drisentomajorandhadbeeninvolvedinagroupcalledtheEinsatzstabReichsleiterRosenberg,which, asEvanput it,wasquite amouthful for“dirtydespicablethieves.”TheywerealsoknownastheERR,Hitler’sspecialgroupthatstole art and artifacts andproperty from Jewish families.The artworkswere shipped toParis and stored at a museum called the Jeu de Paume. There, the art was cataloged,inventoried,andcrated,thensenttoGermany.Hundredsofthousandsoflootedtreasuresfrom world-famous artists: Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Rembrandt, Van Gogh.Hummel was a high-ranking officer in charge, valuable because of his knowledge ofmedievalart.

“So,HerrHummel,”Amymurmured,“youwereathief.”

Near the end of thewar, as theAllies began bombingGerman cities, theNazis gotnervous.TheymovedthearttosaltminesandcavesandcastlesintheBavarianAlps.Itallwouldhaveworkedexceptforafewinconvenientfacts.One:TheNazislostthewar.Two:In1943,asectionoftheAlliedarmywasformedcalledtheMonumentsMen.After

the invasion they traveled with the front lines, charged with finding the artworks andreturningthemtotheirrightfulowners.

“TheNaziswereevil,butwhatmadethemsoespeciallychillingisthattheywerereallyorganizedaboutit,”Evanhadexplained.“Theykeptrecordsofeverythingtheystole.Sowhen theAllied armiesmoved in, they found everything—hidden caches of pricelesspaintingsandartifacts….IfHummelhadthedeVirga,thereshouldhavebeenarecordofit.Butthere’snothing.It’sanotherdeadend.”

“Maybe,” Amy murmured now to herself. She typed Monuments Men and OttoHummel into thesearchengine. If theUSArmywaschasingstolenart, theymusthaveknownaboutHummel.

AdocumentpoppeduponHummel’sdeath.Hisbodyhadbeen foundbyagroupofMonumentsMenas thewarwasending.Hehadbeenshotandwasstill sitting inagiltchairintheballroomofNeuschwansteinCastle,thefamoussitebuiltbyKingLudwigIIofBavaria,oftencalledtheMadKing.

TheMonumentsMen had been acting on information from oneAmerican spy, codenameSparrow,whohadtracedthousandsofartworkslootedfromJewishfamiliesalloverEuropetoNeuschwansteinCastle.

Amy read through a record of a soldier who had served there. “We had a strongsuspicionthatSparrowhadkilledHummel,”hesaid.

Amy rubbed her forehead. Everything was jumbled together in her head. Spies andstolen art, Nazis, heroes, victims. A medieval map. How was it all connected?Was itconnectedatall?

Shejustknewtheanswerwashere.

ShecontactedAttleboroagain.Iananswered.

“Canyouhelpmeoutwithsomeresearch?”sheasked.“IneedtoknowtheidentityofaspyattheendofthewarcalledSparrow.HemightleadustoJane.”

“Youknow,”Iansaid.“That’safunnycoincidence….”

“What?”

“SparrowisSperlinginGerman,”Iansaid.

“Ofcourse!”Amysatup.“It’sJane!It’sgottobe!Weneedconfirmation.”

“I’monit,”Iansaid.

Amycheckedherwatch.WherewasDan?He’dbeengoneforwayoveranhour.Justasshehadthethought,hewalkedin.

Sheexaminedhimbrieflyashetossedhisbackpackonthefloor.Thatmaskwasthere.Hehadgonedeepinsidehimself.Whenevershesawit,itchilledher.Itwaslikeshehadlostherbrother.

“IthinkwefoundtheconnectionbetweenJaneSperlingandHummel,”shetoldhim.“Ithinkshekilledhim!”Quickly,sheexplained thatshe thoughtJaneSperlinghadbeenaspyfortheOSS.

“SparrowwaschasingHummel.IthinkshewasstilltrackingthedeVirga.WhatifthedeVirgawasatNeuschwansteinCastle?Theywereboth thereat thesame time—thatcan’tbeacoincidence!”Amyinsisted.

Ianbrokein.“WejustgotaconfirmationfromaCahillinthefield—ourgovernmentsource.He’sconfirmedthatJaneSperlingwasSparrow.”

“Yes!”Amyexclaimed.

“NeuschwansteinCastleisaJanusstronghold,”Sineadsaid.“WecandefinitelygetyouaschematicoftheinteriorandsendittoyourwristGPS.”

“Andwe’llsendHamiltonandJonahinforbackup,”Iansaid.“They’realreadyintheairflyingbacktoEurope.We’llhavethemflyintoMunich.”

“I don’t know about this, Ames,” Evan said. “You’re building a case just based onguesses.”

“Notguesses,”Amysaid.“Instinct.”

“AndItrustAmy’sinstincts,”Dansaid.“Isaywego.”

“Dan’sright,”Sineadsaid.“Wetrustyou,Amy.”

Apprehension suddenly bloomed in Amy. Despite their confidence — or maybebecauseofit—shewasafraid.

Sometimesthisfeltsosurreal,likeshe’dwalkedintoanalternateuniverse.Maybethereal Amy was back in Attleboro, Massachusetts, a nerdy grind who got excited overresearchpapersandwhoseideaofabigdaywaswhippedcreamonherchai.

ThatAmydidn’tlayeverythingonthelineandsaywehavetodothis.AndthatAmydidn’t have a gut-wrenching fear staring her in the face every moment — that shewouldn’tbesmartenough,orbraveenough,tosavethelivesofthepeoplesheloved.

LocationUnknown

“Fifty-four,fifty-five,fifty-six…”Reaganrappedout.Shewasn’tevenwinded.

Nelliestruggledwiththenextsit-up.Alistairhadcollapsedatseventeen.Fiskehadkeptup until forty. Natalie was humming to herself as she moved. Ted was concentrating,perspirationonhisforehead.AndPhoenixwasfollowingReaganeasily.

“Sixty.Goodjob,people.Donefortheday.”

“Thankyou,”Alistairbreathed.

“All right,” Reagan said. “Tomorrow we’ll tackle shoulders and arms. That meanspush-ups, people! And if you want to fit in some extra ab work after dinner, I’ll becrankingoutsomemorecrunches.”

Atthementionofdinner,Nellie’sstomachgrowled.“Pleasedon’tmentionfood,”shesaid.

Just then theyheard the soundof thedumbwaiter shudderingdown.Fiskewentoverandliftedthepanel.“Cabbageandpotatoes,”hesaid.

Nellie shook her fist at the camera closest to her. “Hey, bozos!” she yelled. “Get adecentchef!”

“Yellingdoesn’twork, remember?”Fiskesaidmildly.He tookout thecasseroledishwhileAlistairsetoutpaperplates.“Thelasttimeyoucomplainedaboutthefood,wegotbreadandwater.”

“Iknow,”Nelliesaid.“I’msorry.It’sjustthat…whatIwouldn’tgiveforapouletrôtiauxherbes.Withcrispy frites.AndI’dreallyliketoseethelookontheFrenchwaiter’sfacewhenIaskforketchup.”

“Imisssalad,”Nataliesaid.

“Cookies,”Phoenixsaid.

“Sushi,”Fiskesaid.

“Bibimbap,”Alistairputin.“Orachickenburritowithchipotlesauce.”

“Grilledcheesesandwiches,”Tedmurmured.“Withpickles.”

Everybodystareddownatthecabbageandpotatoesontheirplates.

Fiskepickeduphisfork.Hetookabite.“Delicious.”

Theyallexchangedglances.Therewasnothingtodobuteat.

Nelliechewedtheovercookedpotatoesandthelimpcabbage.Thecasseroledishwasscrapedclean.Theirkidnapperswerenotgenerouswithportions.

Thecasseroledish…

Someonehadmadeamistake.Theirfirstmistake.

Thecasseroledishwasmadeofceramic.Usuallytheysentfoodinplasticcontainers.

Nellienoted thatFiske’sgazehad followedhers.She saw the same idea lightuphiseyes.Theirgazesmet.

Me,NelliesilentlyaskedFiske…oryou?

Me.Ithadtolooklikeanaccident.Withhershoulderinjury,itjustmightwork.

Shedroppedtheplasticspoonontoheremptyplate,thenstood.Shewalkedovertothegarbage in the corner and tossed them into the container — no recycling for thesekidnappers.Thenshepickedupthecasseroledishandstartedtowardthedumbwaiter toreturnit.

“Ow!”shesuddenlycried,asthoughhershoulderhadgivenheraterribletwinge.Herhandjerked,andshedroppedthedish.Shewassuretoreleaseitwithforce.Itshattered,thepiecesshootingacrossthefloor.AhugeshardskitteredtoastopagainstTed’sfoot.

“Sorry!”shecalled.Shebentdownandretrievedthepieces.Alistairgotuptohelp,aswellasFiske,Phoenix,andReagan.OnlyNataliecontinuedtoeat.

Tedcasuallyputhisfootontopoftheshard.

Theydumpedthebrokenpiecesinthedumbwaiter,shutthepanel,andreturnedtothetable.Onebyone,theygotupandthrewawaytheirplates.PhoenixclearedTed’s,thewayhealwaysdid.

Ted’sfootremainedontheshard.

Thingshadchanged.Nowtheyhadaweapon.

Munich,Germany

“Dude,”HamiltonHoltsaid.

“Dawg,”JonahWizardsaid.Theyknockedknuckles.“We’reonthecaseagain,bro.”

TheyhadjusttoucheddownatMunichAirportinJonah’sprivatejet.Jonahhadalreadyrentedacar;itwouldbefastesttodrivetoNeuschwansteinCastle,especiallyatthespeedhecouldhitontheautobahn.IttookonlyminutesforJonahandHamiltontopassthroughcustoms,loadtheirluggage,andswingintotheredsportscar.

“Weareofficiallyoncelebrity time,”Jonahsaid,adjusting thesidemirror.“No linesfortheWizard.”

Hamilton awkwardly folded himself into the passenger seat. “Couldn’t you getsomethingbigger?”heaskedashebangedhiskneeagainstthedashboard.

“We’re supposed tobe adiversion,” Jonah said. “Got tomakeanentrance.Can’tdothatinaminivan,GigantoBoy.Can’tdomuchofanythinginaminivanexceptlookaboutasuncoolasitgets.”

“Hey!Mydaddrivesaminivan.”

“Snap.”

“IguessIgetyourpoint,”HamiltonsaidasJonahflooredtheaccelerator.EisenhowerHoltwasnotknownforhishipness.Hewasknownforsmashingthefamilyrecyclablesintoneatlittlepiles.Withhishead.

“ItookaracingcardrivingcoursefromaNASCARdudeformymovie,”Jonahsaid.“Ispentaweeklearningdefensiveandoffensivedriving.”Hesquealedaroundacorner.

“That’sgreat,”Hamiltonsaid.“Butcanyoudrivelikeyou’renottryingtokillme?”

Theyzoomedontotheautobahn.JonahslippedaCDintotheplayerandthesoundsof“YourLoveMakesMeSoFly(MoreThanMoney)”cameboomingout.Hamiltonhadtorestrainhimselffromreachingfortheearplugshe’dwornontheplane.Jonah’smusicwaslovedbymillionsallover theworld,but itwasamystery tohim. It sounded likenoisewithabassline.

He endured three CDs before they were zipping closer to the foothills of the Alps,through scenery that even Hamilton had to admit was stunning. He appreciated powershakesandgreatfootballtacklesandthewayyoufeelafteraforty-milebikeride.Scenerywasn’ttheretobeadmired,itwasthereasabackdropforclimbing,running,rowing,and

pickinguplargeobjectsandthrowingthem.Butthesemountainsweresobeautifulthathedidn’teventhinkabouthowitwouldfeeltodriveapitoninthemwithahammer.

Up ahead they saw a yellowBMW pulled to the shoulder and a tall red-haired girlsittingonthebumper.Shewavedherarmsatthem.

“Weshouldstop,”Jonahyelledoverthemusic.

“Noway,”Hamiltonsaid.“We’reonaCahillmission.”

“Wehavetimetogiveheralifttothenextgasstation,”Jonahsaid.“C’mon,Ham—she’sadamselindistress.Where’syourSamaritanspirit?”

“Idon’t think—”Hamiltonstarted,butJonahwasalreadycrossinga laneof trafficandpullingover.

Thegirlslidoffthebumperastheycamecloser.Herjeansweretuckedintosoftleatherboots.Hersweater fellalluringlyoffoneshoulder.Hamiltongulped.Herhair, skin,andteethwereperfect.Hereyeswereavividgreen.

“Nice ride,” Jonah remarked.He paused, as thoughwaiting for the girl to recognizehim.

“Eetwouldbenicerifithadlegas,”thegirlsaidinaFrenchaccent.“I’monmywaytoSalzburgforashoot.”HergazeflickeredpastJonah,andHamiltonsawsurpriseonhisfacethatshedidn’tinstantlyrecognizehim.

“Shootingwhat?”Hamiltonasked.“Ducks?”

“Atirecatalog.”Sheshrugged.“Notsoexciting.Buteetpaysthebillswhenyou’reamodel.”

“You’reamodel?Neverwouldhaveguessed,”Jonahsaidinalazy,teasingvoicethatcausedHamilton’sheadtoswivel.He’dneverseenJonahflirtbefore.

Thegirltiltedherhead.Theglossyhairspilleddownonebareshoulder.“Unmoment…youlookfamiliar.”

Jonahgrinned.“Yeah?”

“’Avewemet?”Areyouan’airdresser?”

“Ahairdresser?”Jonahchokedout.

“Guys,we’dbettergetgoing,”Hamiltonsaid.

“ThenameisJonah,”Jonahsaid,pronouncinghisnamecarefully.Hewaitedforasignofrecognition.

“Nicole.”

“JonahWizard.”

Nicolesquintedathim.“Youareawee-zhard?LiketheHarryPotter,non?”

“I’mHamilton,”Hamiltonsaid,eventhoughnobodyasked.

Nicolelookedatherwatch.“Iamsoverylatenow!”

“Let’sbounce,”Jonahsaid.“We’llgiveyouaridetothenextgasstation.So,whereareyoufrom,Nicole?I’vebeenalloverFrance.”

“IamfromParis.”

“Score!TheyloveyourboyinParis!”

JonahtrailedafterNicole,wholeanedagainst thebumper toapply lipstick.HamiltonscoopedupNicole’sheavysuitcasefromheropentrunk.Heslammedthetrunkshutandtrudgedbacktowardthecar.Nicolewascheckingitout,circlingarounditwithlittlecoosofadmiration.Sheranherhandalongthefender.“Eetissoformidable,zeescar.”

“Whydon’t youget into thebackseat,Hamilton?” Jonah suggested. “Nicole, doyoulikemusic?Areyouahip-hopfan?”

“Ilikelamusique,oui,”Nicolesaid.“Lejazz.”

“Icanbemadjazzy,”Jonahsaid.

HamiltonwasstuffedintothetinybackseatwithNicole’ssuitcase.Evenherpursewastoobigforthefrontseat.Instead,itsatonhislap.

Abeebuzzedintotheopenwindowofthecar,and,withoutpausinginherconversationwithJonah,Nicolegrabbeditinitsmidairflight.Shecrusheditinherfist,thenflickedthecarcassoutthewindow.

Whoa,Hamiltonthought.Evenmodelscouldhaveamazingreflexes.

“TellmethestoryofyourlifeandI’lltellyoumine,”JonahsaidtoNicole.“Butfirst,areyousureyoudon’trecognizeme?”

“Is this place real?” Dan asked, looking up at King Ludwig’s castle. “Or am I inDisneyland?”

Upthewindingtrailthroughthepinesloomedthecastle,afollybuiltbyamadking,allturrets and windows and gables and peaked roofs and windows wink- ing back in theslowly sliding sun. The castle was situated on a high, rocky cliff, with snow-cappedAlpinemountainsrisingaroundit.Itoverlookedasparkling,deepbluelake.Isolatedandyetproudofitsgrandeur,thiscastleflauntedthecrazy.

TheNazishadcrammedmillionsofdollarsoflootedtreasureinthatmagnificentcastle.JaneSperlinghadcomein1945,maybeonamistydaylikethisone.She’dfoundheroldenemyhere.Amywassureofit.

“Actually, the castle was used as the model for Sleeping Beauty’s Castle inDisneyland,”shesaid.Shecheckedhercellphoneagain,buttherewerenomessages.Nocalls.“Wherearethey?”

She’d left messages for both Jonah and Hamilton. They hadn’t checked in withAttleboro,either.Shewasstartingtoworry.

Shepunched in theAttleboronumber.“AreyouhavinganyproblemswithGideon?”sheasked.“Westillhaven’theardfromJonahandHamilton.”

“Satelliteinthemountainscanbeiffy,evenfortheGideon,”Evanreassuredher.“Givethemmoretime.”

“DidtheGPSmapcomethrough?”Ianasked.

“Check,” Dan said, glancing at his wrist. “I’ve got a bead on a room down in thetunnels.”

“That’stheroomwheretheERRkeptitsrecords,”Iansaid.“Wethinkyoushouldstartthere.ThatwouldhavebeenthefirstplaceJanewouldhavegonetolookforevidenceofthedeVirga.”

“Iftheydon’tshowupintwentyminutes,we’regoinginwithoutthem,”Amysaid.

“Let’shopeitdoesn’tcometothat,”Ianputin.“Justfridgeyourselves,asJonahsays.”

“Dude,”Dansaid.“Doyoumeanchill?”

“Precisely.JustwhatIsaid.”

“Givemethephone,Ian.”Evantookthephoneoffspeaker.“Listen,Iknowit’shardtowait.ButIdon’tlikeyougoinginwithoutbackup.”

“I’llgivethemtenmoreminutes,”Amysaid.

“I’vegotastubborngirlfriend.”

“You’rejustrealizingthat,huh.”

Amycut theconnectionanddrewher jacketcloseraroundher. Itwascoolunder thepines.Dansatonthesideoftheroad,leaningagainsthispackanddrinkingoneofthesix-packofsodahe’dboughtinthevillage.AmycouldpictureEvan’shalfsmile,thewayhismouthcurvedononeend.Itwasasthoughshecouldfeelit,thewarmthinhiseyeswhenhelookedather.

Justthenshefeltabuzzinginherjacketpocket.VesperOne.ShesignaledtoDan.

Sightseeing?TheAlpsaresolovelythistimeofyear.Butdon’tforgetI’mwaiting for the arrival of the next package! If you need some incentive,I’vegotsevenideas.Justletmeknow!

VesperOne

“Anotherthreat,”Dansaid.

Theybothturnedtofacethecastleabovethemonthemountain.Thesunhaddroppedbehindthetallpines,andshadowsstretchedtowardthem.

“Wecan’twaitanylongerforbackup,”Amysaid.“We’vegottogoin.”

Jonahdidn’tknowhowithadhappened.Heonlyknewthattheywerelost.TheGPShadstoppedworking.They’dhadtogetofftheautobahn.Nicolehaddirectedthemtoanexit,since theGPSwasstillworkingonherphone.Butafter twentyminutesofdrivingpastfarmsandcows,JonahwasbeginningtosuspectthatNicolewasnotwhatsheseemed.

Hecheckedheroutagain.Therewassomethingabouther…

Thecloudscleared,andabrightshaftofsunlight illuminated thecurveofhercheek.Jonahtriednottostare.Hewasanactor,andheknewmakeup.Therewasatelltalelinealongthebridgeofhernose.Anddidperfectgirlssweatalongtheirhairlines?

Theydoifthey’rewearingwigs.HemetHamilton’seyesintherearviewmirror.HecuthiseyesovertoNicole.Hamiltonnodded.Heknewsomethingwasoff,too.

Oldesttrickinthebook.Andhe’dfallenforit.

“Zegasstationeesjustaroundtheesbend,”Nicolesaid.“Izink….”

“Whydon’tyouletHamiltontakealookatyourphone?”Jonahsuggested.AgainhiseyesflickedtoHamilton’s.

“Letmecheck itout,”Hamiltonsaid. “I’m totallygoodatGPS.”He leaned forwardandputhismeatyhandonherphone.Shetriedtokeepit,butHamilton’sgripwasnottobedenied.Withaslighthissthroughherteeth,sheletgo.

Jonahmadetherightturn.Hepulledthewheelhard,andsheputoutahandtosteadyherself.Hecaughtaglimpseofatattooontheinsideofherwrist.Apurpletriceratops—justlikeherbrother.

He almost groaned out loud.How could he have been such an idiot?He’d seen thephotoofCheyenneWyoming.Butthisgirllookednothinglikeher.

Because,youfool,she’swearingawig,afakenose,andcontactlenses!

“Ican’tgettheGPStoworkonthisthing,”Hamiltonsaid,lookingatthephone.

“MayI’aveitback?”Cheyenneputherhandoveritandyankedit.

Theyneededtoditchher,andfast.Whoknewwhatshewasplanning?

“Look,there’safarmer!”hecalled.

“’Eeiswayoutinzefield,”Cheyennesaid.

Itwastrue.Themanwasadotinthegrass,andthestonewallinfrontwasatleastsixfeethigh.

“It’sthebestwecando,”Jonahsaid,jerkingthewheel.

Thecarskiddedtoastop.“Hmm,”Jonahsaid.“Girlsaresomuchbetteratcharmingdirectionsoutofcrankyfarmers.”

“Totally!”HamiltonjumpedoutandthenopenedCheyenne’sdoor.Hepracticallyliftedherout.

“Icannotclimbzatwall!”

“Noproblemo,”Hamiltonsaid.Hepickedherup,and,assheshrieked,liftedherontothewall.

Hamiltonquicklyjoggedbacktothecarandsqueezedintothefrontseat.

“Punchit!”heyelled.

Gravelflewasthecarskiddedbackontotheroad.

“Thatwascrazy!”Jonahsaid,poundingthewheel.“Ican’tbelieveweweresostupid!ThatwasCheyenneWyoming!”

“Wewerestupid,dude?You’retheonewhosaidlet’spickherup!”

“Dawg,that’salowblow.”ButheknewHamiltonwasright.

“Shecompletelyhosedus,”Hamiltonsaid.“Ithinksheblockedoursatellitesignal.Shemusthaveplantedsomesortofdeviceinthecar.”Hebegantosearchalongthedashboardand floor, looking for a blocker. “You were probably too busy trying to get her torecognizeyoutonotice.AtleastIgotherphone.”

“Whoa!Howdidyoumanagethat?Isawhertakeitback,bro!”

“Lastsummer,atthemansion?DanandItooklessonsfromLightfingerLarry.”

Hamiltonaccessedthephone.“I’mgoingtocheckheroldmessages….Shehasatext!‘Gisinthepicture.Couldneedremoval—’”

Hamilton stared at the screen as the letters began to disappear. “It’s gettingwiped! Ican’treadtherest!”

“Thephoneisprobablypassword-protectedtoerase,”Jonahsaid.“Chill,bro.Attleboromightbeabletoputsomespywareonit.”

Hamiltonlookedoverathimnervously.“Butwhywasshetryingtodelayus?DoyouthinkCasperisuptherewithAmyandDan?”

Jonahpressedtheacceleratordown.“Let’sjusthopeAmyandDanwaitforusbeforetheygoin.”

AmyandDanhadtouredthecourtyardandpretendedtoadmirethesplendidpanoramaoflakeandmountainswith theother tourists.They’dshuffledthroughtheimposingroomsthatopenedoneafteranotheringrandmagnificence:thethroneroom,thestudyroom,andthe drawing room. They had tilted their heads back pretending to admire the elaboratemurals that portrayed scenes from Ludwig’s favorite operas. They had circled around,tryingtofigureouthowtogetawaywithouttheguidenoticingthem.Buttheroomsweretoolarge,andthecrowdwastoosmall.

“Wejusthavetodoit,”Amywhispered.“Thisplaceissobigthey’llneverknowwherewewent.Andwe’llbeinthetunnels…theywon’tthinkoflookingthere.”

“Allright.Assoonastheguidestartstotalkagain,fadeback.”

TheguideturnedtowardamuralandstartedtotalkaboutaWagneropera.Danfigureditwastheperfectopportunitytogo,orelsehe’dpassoutfromboredom.

They backed away behind a red curtain,made their way to a doorway, and steppedthrough.Theywereinalonghallway,andtheyquicklyrandownit.DancheckedhisGPSwatchandputtheearpieceinhisear.

“Left,thenright.”

Theywere inapartof thecastle thatwasclosed tovisitors.Dan led themdown theback staircase andpast thevast kitchen.From there they found thedoor that led to thelowerlevelsandthetunnels.Amywasexpectingsmall,cramped,anddirtyspaces,butthetunnels were large and airy. They could see a group of tourists just exiting out to thecourtyard.

Dankeptmoving,listeningtotheinstructionsinhisearpiece.Theyfollowedturnafterturn.Finally,hestopped.

“Thisistheone,”Dansaid.Heremovedtheearpieceandpushedopenthedoor.

Theroomwascompletelyemptyexceptforabatteredgrayfilingcabinet.Theyopenedthedrawers,buttheywereempty.

“Talktome,Jane.”Amyslammedthedrawershut.“Wheredidyouleaveit?”

Danbegan to runhishandsalong thebrickson the farwall.He followed the lineofbricksthatmetthefloor.Nothing.

“Thefloorslopes,”Amysaidsuddenly.“Whyisthat?”

“Well,it’satunnel,”Dansaid.“Itcouldflood.There’sprobablyadrain.”

Amyfollowedtheslopeofthefloorandfoundatinysquaredrain.

“Dan!”shecried.“InthearticleIread,Janesaid‘Alldownthedrain’!”

Danpeereddownatthedrain.“Youthink?”

“Ithink.Canyougetthegratingoff?”

Dangot out hismulti-tool and fitted the blade against the drain. It took him severalminutes,buthewasabletopopitfree.

Takingabreath,Amyreachedherhandin.Shefeltalongacorrodedpipe.“Yuck,”shesaid.Shelaydownonthefloor,hercheekagainstthecoldstone,andstretchedherarmasfarasshecould.

“There’s something here,” she said, her heart beating. “A string … looped aroundsomething…”

“Canyougetit?”

“Ithinkso….”Slowly,painstakingly,Amydrewupasmall,flatpackagewrappedinyellowedplastic.Herhandsshookasshecarefullyunwrappedit.

A small black leather notebook was revealed. Not the de Virga map. Disappointed,Amycarefullyopenedtheflapofthenotebookwithafingertip.

Writteninfadedpenshesawinitialsontheinsidefrontcover:JSjune1945.

“Jane,”Amybreathed.

Shegentlyturnedthepage.Writteninpencil,sofaintshecouldhardlyreadit,was:

“Oh,terrific,”Danmuttered.“Justwhatweneed!Anothercode!Whycan’tpeoplejustsaywhattheymean?Whycan’ttheysayTHEMAPISINTHEDESK?”

Amyquickly thumbed through the notebook.The rest of the pageswere empty. “Atleastwefoundsomethingthatwillleadustoit.”Amyslippedthenotebookintotheinnerpocketofherjacket.“Nowlet’sgetoutofhere.Ihaveacreepyfeelingaboutthisplace.”

“Hmmm.Secretpassageways,tunnels,Nazighosts,security,amadking…Ihavenoideawhatyoumean.”

“Goingsofast?Butyouforgotsomething.”

Thevoiceechoedoutsideinthetunnel.AmyandDanjerkedupfromwheretheywerekneelingasafigureblockedthedoorway.

“Me.”

ItwasCasperWyoming.Heleanedagainstthedoorway,aglitteringknifeinhishand.

Theroadclimbedintothemountains,Jonahtakingthehairpincurvesasfastashedared.

“Youlooksomachoclutchingthedoorhandlethatway,”hesaidtoHamilton.

“Just…be…careful,”Hamiltonsaidthroughclenchedteeth.

AheadJonahcouldseeaparticularlywindingsetofturnsthatledtoaspindlylookingbridgeoveragorge.Heeasedofftheaccelerator.Hewantedspeed,buthewasn’tsuicidal.

He hit the brakes for the first curve. The car didn’t slow but scraped against theguardrail.

“WHOA!”Hamiltonshouted,lookingdownintothegorge.“Dude,thebrakepedalisontheleft!”

With an uneasy feeling, Jonah pumped the brakes. The pedalwent to the floor. Hishandswere suddenly sweatyon thewheel. “There’s somethingwrongwith thebrakes.”Hedidn’trecognizehisshaky,weakvoice.Hepumpedthemagain.Nothing.

“There’ssomethingwrongwiththeBRAKES?”

“Idon’tthinkwehaveany.”

“Wedon’thaveanyBRAKES?”

“Bro,itdoesn’thelptorepeateverythingIsay!”Jonahyelled.

“Shedidit!”Hamiltoncried.“Sheplantedsomekindofdevice….”

Jonahdownshiftedasthecarroaredupthemountain.Theengineprotestedinanangrywhine.“C’mon,baby,workwithme!”

Atleasttheywereclimbingnow.Thenaturaldragwasslowingdownthecar.

“Itmust be remote-activated or something… .WatchOUT!”Hamilton screamed, asanothercurveloomedahead.Jonahbarelymadeit,tiressquealing.“Ormaybeit’sinsidethecarandIcanfindit!”Frantically,Hamiltonbegantosearch.

Jonahconcentratedonthecar.“Keepyourseatbelton!Andsecureanylooseitemsinthecar.”Iftheywentovertheside,anythingthatflewintheairwouldturnintoamissile.

“Maybeit’s inhersuitcase!”Hamilton twisted inhisseat.Heundidhisseatbeltandreachedbehind,grabbingCheyenne’sbigpurseandflinging itout thewindow.Thenhewrestledwithhersuitcaseandforceditthroughthesmallspace.Hetriednottolookasthe

suitcasebouncedandcareenedoffthesideofthemountain,splittingintwo.Thatcouldbehiminaminute.

“Check thebrakes!” heyelled.He stuffedhimself back into the seat and clicked theseatbeltshut.

AperspiringJonahshookhishead.“Sorry,bro.Thatwasn’tit.”

Jonahwasusingtheshifttobrakenow,rememberinghisdrivingcourse.Hehadbeentaughthowtousesteeringtocontrolthecar,howtoaccelerateintocurvesandkeepthecarontheroad.Hetriedtoremembereverythinghe’dlearnedaboutdownshifting,abouttheprocessofdecelerationandacceleration….

Hejustwishedhishandsweren’tsweatingsobadly….

“Thebridge.”Hamilton’snormallydeepvoicewasasqueak.“Ifyoudon’tmakethatturn,we’llgostraightoff.”

Jonahdidn’tanswer.Therewasnoanswer.Hamiltonwasright.

Hetriedtoplantherouteevenashestruggledtokeepthecarontheroad.Hewouldneedtocomeoutofthatturnanddownshiftimmediately.Hecouldseefromherethatitwasimpossible.Unless…unlessheusedthesideofthemountaintoslowdownthecar.Justenoughsothathewouldn’tlosecontrol…

Heswallowedandgrippedthewheel.

“Hangon,”hetriedtosay,buthismouthwassodrythewordsbarelymadeitout.

Heeasedthecartotheleft.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Hamiltonyelled.

Thecarslammedagainst themountainand then jerkedbackon the road.Thatdidn’twork.Toohard.

He eased it over again, this time watching carefully. The side mirror snapped off.Sparksflew.Thecarwasslowing,definitely…buthewasheadingforthecurve.

Hebumpedbackontheroad,thewheelshudderinginhishands.Hetookthecurveontwowheels.Foraninstant,theclearAlpineairwasalltheysaw,darkblueskyanddarkgreenpines….

The car shivered andkept the road. Jonahdownshifted, fightinggravity, fighting theroad,fightingthemountain,fightingtheVESPERS,becausehewasgoingtoWIN….

Thecarstraightenedoutandzoomedoverthebridge.Jonahkeptitsteady.

“Jonah!Upahead,ontheleft—thatroad.Seeit?It’sgoinguphill.”

JonahsawwhatHamiltonmeant. Ifhecouldmake that turn, thecarwouldnaturallyslow as it climbed the mountain. If he stayed straight, they’d be traveling down themountainagain.Withmorecurvestonavigate,morechancestocrash…

Itwastheironlyhope.

Belowthemwasathousandfeetofair.Thebridgewasnarrow.Hewouldn’thaveroomto swing out to the right.He’d have tomake it—or go spinning out, crash through aguardrailandleapstraightintospace.

Now!

Jonahpulledthewheeltotheleftandthecarresponded,goingairborneforamomentas it bumped off the road, hit a rail, then landed on the uphill road. Jonah steered anddownshiftedall thewayuptheroaduntilhewasabletogentlycrashintoarockontheshoulder.

Thecarstopped.Hisheadhitthewheel.Hamiltoncrashedagainstthedashboard.

“Oh,dawg,”Hamiltonsaid.

“Oh,dude,”Jonahsaid.

“Thatwasclose.Thatwassoclosetoclose,itwasalmostover.”

“AsclosetoafinaldestinationasIeverwanttoget,”Jonahsaid.

With shaking hands, they dug out their cell phones and backpacks.As soon as theysteppedout of the car, the cell phonesbegan towork.Amydidn’t pickup.NeitherdidDan.Attleborohadn’theardfromtheminthepastthirtyminutes.

“We’vegottogettothem!”Hamiltonsaid.Heslammedhisfistonthecar.

“Dude,it’sarental.Doyouhavetodentit,too?”Jonahcrouchedbythecar.“Wejustneed to find thedevice soAttleboro can checkon it. It couldbe a lead.”Heheldup asmallball.“Thisbabyisavideocam.That’showsheknewwhentoblowthebrakesformaximumimpact.”

Theygrabbedtheirgearandhalfran,halfsliddowntotheroad.Itwasempty.

Hamiltonthrewhispackonthegroundandletoutahowloffrustration.

“Wait.Ihearsomething,”Jonahsaid.

Theyexchangedaglance.WhatifitwasCheyenne?Whatifshe’dmetupwithsomeotherVesperbaddudes?Suddenly,theroadfeltisolated,andtheyfeltexposed.

Adotappearedacrossthedivide,takingthelastturnforthebridge.Thedotturnedintoaminibusasitcrossedthebridgeandheadedtowardthem.Nomatterhowjangledtheirnerves,aminibusseemed likeagoodsign. Jonahsteppedout into the road,wavinghisarms.Hamiltontensed,readytoattackifhehadto.

Theminibusscreechedtoahalt.Ayoungwomanwithblondbraidsstuckherheadoutthewindow.

“JonahWIZARD!”shescreamed.

Caspertookoutalargeredapple.Hebegantopeelitwiththeknife.Itwasmesmerizing,watchingthebright,polishedsilverblademovearoundtheapple.Animpossiblythinstripofpeelbegantospiraldownward.

“Hey,guys,”Caspersaid.“Imissedyou.”

DreadinvadedAmy’sbones,andshedidn’tthinkshecouldmove.Hewasblockingthedoorway,andtheyweretrapped.Shedidn’twanttogoanywherenearthatglitteringknife.

“Thelasttimeweweretogether,Iwasdeepinacrevassenexttoadeadguy,”Caspersaid.“Andyoudidn’tevensaygood-bye.”

Thepeelslowlyfelltothefloor.Caspercarvedoutapieceofapplewithafewflicksoftheknife.HediditsoquicklyandexpertlythatAmyshuddered.

Heheldoutthepieceofappleonthetipoftheknife.“Anybody?No?”Hesuckeditofftheknife.Ifhewastryingtounnervethem,itwasworking.

“Whatisit,Casper?”Amyhatedthathervoiceshook.“Whatdoyouwant?”

“Oh,didn’tIsay?Themap.Iwantthemap.”

“Wedon’thavethemap.Andwestillhaveanotherthreedaystoproduceit.”

“But you found something. I heard you.” Casper sliced off another piece of apple,flickeditintohismouth,andcruncheddownonit.

“Youhavetoallowustofollowtheclues,”Amysaid.“That’sthedeal.”

Caspersmiled.HeflickedapieceofappleatAmy.Ithitherintheface.Sheflinched.“Ididn’tmakeanydeal,sunshine.”

HetookanotherstepcloserandflickedanotherpieceofappleatAmy.Itstruckheronthecheek.Danclenchedhisfiststogether.

“‘Atleastwefoundsomethingthatwill leadustoit.’”CaspermimickedAmy’ssoft,highvoice,thensnortedandtossedhisappleaway.“Youthinkyoutwoaretheonlysmartpeople in theworld?You saidyou found something thatwill leadyou to it. So hand itover,sunshine,orelse!”

“Orelsewhat?”Danasked.“You’llkillus?Yourbosswon’tbehappy.”

“Idon’thavetokillbothofyou.”Caspersmiled.“Justonewilldo.”

Amy’slegswereshakingsobadlyshewasafraidshe’dfalldown.ShereachedouttoholdDan’sarm.Ifshecouldn’tfindthestrengthtoprotectherself,sheknewshe’dprotectherbrother.

“Whatdifferencedoesitmake,Ames?”Danasked.“He’saVesper.Whyshouldn’twegiveittohim?”Hestoopeddownforhisbackpack.

Danwasreachingforhispack,butAmyhadthenotebookinherpocket.WhatwasDanplanning?

“Nofunnybusiness,”Casperwarned.

“Dude,ifyouthinkIcarewhichVespergetsthis,you’recrazy.”

Amywasbracedforanything,butDan’smovesurprisedevenher.Hecameupwiththefull can of soda in his hand and hurled it straight at Casper. It slammed him in theforehead.TherewasanalmostcomicallookofstunnedsurpriseonhisfacebeforeAmygatheredhernerveand followedDan’smovewitha flyingmartial-artskickat thehandholdingtheknife.

Theknifeskitteredalongthefloor.Danwhirledandkickeditintothedrain.

Casperscreamedacurse.Danbashedhimintheheadwithhisbackpack.Theyheardathudasthesodacansconnectedwithhisskull.Casperstaggered.

Theyshoulderedpasthimandracedoutintothetunnel.

Amy thought frantically. She knew the tunnel would eventually lead outside to thecourtyard.What they needed was a crowd. But if a tour wasn’t leaving, the courtyardcouldbeempty.

“Whichwaytotheupstairs?”sheaskedDan.

“Idon’tknow!”heshouted.

Theyheardrunningfootstepsbehindthem,andtheyknewCasperhadrecovered.

“Ihearsomething,”shegaspedout.“Listen!”

“Ludwigwasmad,bro

Buthealsowasbad,bro

Washisown‘Iliad,’bro…”

“Jonah!”Amybreathed.WheretherewasJonah,therewouldbeacrowd.

Aheadofthem,Caspersuddenlyappearedfromaroundabend.Hemusthavefoundawayaroundthem.Heliftedahandandsnappedopenanotherknife.Andsmiled.

Theystopped.Fromofftotheright,AmycouldhearJonah’svoice.Butitwasfading,notgettinglouder.

“Before,Iwasannoyed,”Caspersaid.“Now,I’mmad.”

Amy took a deep breath. “OMIGOSH JONAHWIZARD!” she squealed. Just likemillions of girls shrieked all over the world. The sound bounced off the walls of thetunnel.

Casperlookedatherasthoughshe’dlosthermind.

ItonlytookamomentbeforetheyheardJonah’svoice.Comingcloser.Andfast.

“NEVERWOREPLAID,BRO!”

Amyalmostweptinrelief.

Jonah burst into themain tunnel at a run, surrounded by a crowd of giggling girls.Castlesecurityflankedthem.Hamiltonhurrieduptothem.HefollowedAmy’sgazeandsawCasper.Hisfiststightenedathisside.

Caspersurveyedthecrowd.HisgazelingeredonHamilton’sfists,thesecurityofficers,thewayJonahmoved,pushingthecrowdsothatitwouldsqueezeCasperagainstthewall.Hesteppedofftothesideasthecrowdrushedby,AmyandDansafelyinitsmidst.

Astheypassedhim,hedrewhisfingeracrosshisneckinaclassic“you’redead”signalandpointedatthem.

“Later,”hemouthed.

The sunset was spectacular, and they were safe in the minibus with the students fromEstoniawhowereontheirwaytoSalzburgfortheSoundofMusictour.Jonahsatupfrontwiththegirlsandledasing-along.

Whowould have guessed that the hip-hop star knew all thewords to “ClimbEv’ryMountain”?

Amy,Dan,andHamiltonhuddledinthebackofthebus.

“Why would Casper and Cheyenne want to kill us?” Amy asked. “It doesn’t makesense.Whygo to all the troubleof kidnappingCahills andgettingus tohelp if they’regoingtokillusbeforewefinish?”

“Maybe Vesper One doesn’t know about it,” Hamilton said. “Maybe they’re goingrogue.Liketheywanttoimpresshimorsomething.It’sthekindofthingmysisterswoulddo,”headdedsheepishly.

AmyandDanstaredathim.

“Imean,whatdoIknow?”hesaid,shiftinguncomfortably.“Nothing,right?”

“No,that’sbrilliant,”Dansaid.

Amynodded.“Theonlyproblemis,wehavenowayoftellingVesperOne.”

“Andthey’reprobablycountingonthat,”Dansaid.

“Great,”Amysaid.“Nowwe’vegottheWyomingsaswellasInterpolbreathingdownournecks.Andtime’srunningouttofindthemap.”

“I’mgoingtocheckwithAttleboro,”Hamiltonsaid.Hescootedawayandtookouthisphone.TheyhadalreadysentJane’snotationtoMassachusetts.

“Youweregreatinthere,”AmytoldDan.“WhenIsawCasper,Icouldn’tmove.”

“Youkickedthatknifeoutofhishand.”

“Onlybecauseyounailedhimsohardwiththatcan.”Amybitherlip.“Iwassoscared,Dan.Icouldn’tthink.”Sheshookherhead.“Ifeelsoashamedofmyself.Ifitwasn’tforyou,wewouldhavebeentoast.”

“Whoa,”Dansaid.“Ifyou’rethrowingapitypartyforyourself,don’tinviteme.”Hepokedher.“YouweretheonewhogotJonahtofindus.Awesomelungpower.Ithoughtyouonlyusedthatvolumetogetmeoutofthebathroom.”

Amy smiled, but the heaviness was still in her heart. She looked out at the darkmountains.Theyseemedtobepressingagainstthem.“Butwhatifthedaycomeswhenwedon’tfigureitout?When—”

“Wearenotgoingtolose.”Dan’sgazewasfierce.“IrememberwhatNellielookedlikeonthatvideo.AndFiske,andPhoenix,andTed,andallofthem.Andwearenotgoingtolose.Nomatterwhat.”

Amyshouldhavefeltcomforted.ButtherewassomethingaboutDan’sconfidence…whatwasit?

Itwasn’tconfidence.Itwasmorelikedesperation.

Hamiltonslidbackintotheseat.“Theyhavealeadforus.Look.”

THEVWITHKEPLERHUNGUSUPFORABIT.ITMUSTSTANDFORVESPER.IFTHEWORLD-FAMOUSSEVENTEENTH-CENTURYASTRONOMERJOHANNESKEPLERWASAVESPER.

Amyquicklytypedinaresponse:

WASAMANUSCRIPTBYKEPLERSTOLENBYNAZIS?

YES.EARLYCOPYOFMYSTERIUMCOSMOGRAPHICUM.WASHELDATNEUSCHWANSTEINCASTLE. BOOK NOW IN POSSESSIONOF LIBRARYOF PHILOSOPHY AND COSMOLOGY INPRAGUE.

“That means that Jane could have found a record of it in the castle,” Amy said.“Repatriatedmeans‘returnedtothecountryoforigin.’SomaybesheslippedthedeVirgainwith theKeplerbook?Idon’tknowwhat ‘restingwith teacherandvictim’means…yet.Butshe’stryingtotellussomething.”

Dannodded.“Andthatmeanswe’regoingtoPrague.”

Prague,CzechRepublic

TheLibraryofPhilosophyandCosmologyhadexistedinPragueforfourhundredyears.Originally attached to a monastery, it was now housed in an ultramodern buildingdesignedby aworld-famous architectwhowas fondof using stainless steel like ribboncandy.Dandidn’tknowwhethertoenterthelibraryortakeabiteoutofit.

Theywalked insideapaneled foyer thatheldonlyapolished-steelumbrella stand. Itwasempty.“Remember,we’reSarahandJackTeague,”Amymurmured.“TheFarleysarehistory.”

Glassdoorsswungopenastheywalkedforward.Acurveddeskofdarkpolishedwoodwas ahead of them. Through glass doors they could see the great reading room of thelibrary, shelves rising to a second-level gallery. Long tables ran thewidth of the room.Onlyafewpeoplewerescatteredaround,headsbentoverbooksandlaptops.

Thewoman sitting at the desk looked up fromher computer. Shewore glasseswithheavyblackframesthatsomehowmadeherlookcoolinsteadofnerdy.Shinyblackhairwasscrapedbackinatightponytail.

“MayIhelpyou?”

“We’re American students,” Amy said. “We’d like to look something up in yourlibrary.”Shesmiled,tryingtoingratiateherself.

“Doyouhavealetterofreference?”

“No,”Amysaid.

“Thisisaprivatelibrary,”thewomansaid.“Forinvitedscholarsonly.I’msorry.Thereare other libraries in Prague that would be able to accommodate you, I’m sure.” Sheturnedbacktohercomputer.

“But…”Amystarted.Shedesperatelytriedtothink.Howcouldsheblufftheirwayin?“Thisistheonlylibrarythatcanhelpus.”

“Canyoutellmethesubjectofyourresearch?”

“Uh,theearlybooksofJohannesKepler.”

“Wehaveonlyone.”

“Weknow,”Dansaid.“Theone thatwasrescuedfromNeuschwansteinCastleat theendofthewar.”

Shepressedherlipstogether.“Thatisoneofourmostvaluablebooks.Wecannotallowjustanyonetohandleit.”

“Istheresomebodyelsewecanspeakto?Thedirector,perhaps?”Amyaskedpolitely.

“IamKatjaMavel,thedirectorofthelibrary.IamafraidIamyourlastresort.”

“MysisterandIarestudentsofDr.MarkRosenbloom,”Danblurted.

Amytriednottolooksurprised.MarkRosenbloomwasthefatherofJakeandAtticus,theboyswhohadturnedthemintoInterpol.Sure,hewasaworld-famousarchaeologist,butthey’dnevermethim.

Thewomanpaused.“Dr.Rosenbloomreferredyou?”

“Yes,butwemisplacedtheletter.”

“Perhaps you should e-mailDr. Rosenbloom and then he can forward the necessarypapers.”

“Wecan’t,”Dansaid.“He’sonadigin…Eritrea.Nosatellitereception.”

Amyglancedatherbrother.Wherehadthatcomefrom?Shedidn’teventhinkhecouldlocate Eritrea on amap. She didn’t think she could. But suddenlyDanwas projectingmaturity and intelligence. How did hemanage it? And why couldn’t he do this at thedinner table insteadofusinghisspoon tocatapultmashedpotatoesontoherplatewhensheaskedforseconds?

Thewomanseemedhesitant,buthertonewasfirm.“Iamsosorry,butwecannotmakeexceptions. I’vemetDr. Rosenbloom and I know of hiswork. But I cannot let you inwithoutthenecessarypapers.”Hervoicesoftened.“I’msurethereisawaytocontacthim.Perhapshecouldcall in the introductionforyou.Wecanbend therules,butwecannotbreakthem.Goodday.”

Amyquicklyscribbledasecuree-mailaddressonapieceofpaperandthenameSarahTeague. “If we get Dr. Rosenbloom to e-mail you, can you e-mail us back that you’lladmitus?”

“Ican’tmakeanypromises.”Dr.Mavelglancedat thepaper.Shedidn’tsayyes,butshetuckeditintoadrawer.

Therewasnothing to dobut leave.AmyandDan stoodon the sidewalkoutside thelibrary.Itwasalovelyfallday,coolandcrisp.ThecityofPrague,withitsold,gracefulbuildings,itshillsandsteeples,spreadoutaroundthem.TheycouldseetheVltavaRiverandPragueCastle.ButAmycouldn’ttakeitin.Shecouldalmostfeeltimepassing,likethewindthatblewherhairbackandscatteredtheleavesatherfeet.

“Idon’tknowwhattodonow,”shesaid.“ButitwasagoodideatobringupAtticus’sfather.”

“Itstilldidn’tgetusin.Andit’snotlikewecancallhim.Jakeprobablytoldhimthatwe’rethieves.”

AmyrememberedthelookonJake’sface,thecontemptwhenheknewwhattheywereplanning. “We’ll have to put out a Cahill alert,” she decided. “Someone will comethrough.InthemeantimewecanfocusongettingagoodtranslationoftheepilogueofIlMilione.Ithastotieinwitheverythingelsesomehow.”

“PlinytheYounger,MarcoPolo,Caravaggio,JohannesKepler,andaNazi,”Dansaid,tickingoffthenamesonhisfingers.“They’reallcenturiesapart,andthey’reconnected?”

“They’vegottobe,”Amysaid.“Let’sheadbacktothehotel.”

Theyhadcheckedintoasmallhoteltuckedawayonasidestreetupontheirarrivalthatmorning.Theroomhadn’tbeenready,andtheywerecarryingaroundtheirpacks,whichwerestartingtofeelheavy.JonahandHamiltonhadgonetoafour-starAmericanhotel.Theyhadagreeditwouldbesafertosplitup.

Astheytrudgedtheblockstothehotel,Dancouldfeeltheweightofdiscouragementevenmore than thedragof thepackonhis shoulders.HepicturedHamiltonand Jonahsittingaroundtheirhotelroominplushrobes,nibblingatacomplimentaryfruitbasket.

As they entered the hotel, the clerk came around the desk to speak to them. “Myapologies.Yourroomisn’tready,”hesaid.“MayIsuggestasnackinthekavarna—thecafé.Complimentary,ofcourse.”

“Dude,”Dansaid.“Youjustsaidthemagicword.”

Theyweretiredofwalking.Tiredofthinking.Alittlepastrysugarrushwoulddothemgood.

They headed for the café adjoining the lobby, where they sat down at a table andorderedhotchocolateandvdolek,apastrywithjamandwhippedcream.

Danwas just about to dip his spoon into the pastrywhenAmy stiffened. The samehawk-nosedmanwho’dbeenonthetraintoLucernepushedthroughthedoorofthehotel.

“Dan!”

Danlickedhislipsasheregardedhispastry.“Thislookslikeacloudofparadise.”

Themanwentdirectlytothedesk.

Interpol.

Amyduckedbehindthebroadbackofapatronenjoyingalargeplateofpastries.

Don’ttellhimwhereweare.Don’ttellhimdon’ttellhimdon’ttellhim.

Theclerklookedatthepaperthemanheldout.Hepointedtothecafé.

“Wehavetogetoutofhere.”Amystood.“Now.”

“Wait!Myvdolek!”Danprotested,reachingforit.

Sheyankedonhisarm justashegrabbed for it.Danwent facedown in thewhippedcream.

Shebentoveras though topickupapurse. In themirrorover thecounter shecouldclearlyseetheInterpoldetectivetryingtopeerintothecafé.Allhesawwasaboywithafacefulofwhippedcream.

Danreachedforanapkin,butsheshovedthepastryupagainsthisfaceagain.

“Mmff!”Danprotestedaroundamouthfulofcream.

Keepinghisbacktothelobby,shesteeredthemthroughthedoor.Outside,shepushedDanforwarduntiltheywereswallowedbyacrowdoftourists.

Dan swiped at thewhipped creamonhis face and lickedhis fingers as theyweavedthroughthecrowd.“Escapewasneversosweet,”hecrowed.

Attleboro,Massachusetts

Thepackagearrivedthatafternoon.Sineadhadimmediatelytakenitupstairstothecomm.center. Cheyenne’s phone had certainly been wiped clean, but that didn’t mean theycouldn’tgetsomeinformationoutofit.Shegottowork.

IanresearchedthevideocamCheyennehadstuckonthecarfender.Itwassomicroandadvancedthat,liketheDeOssiesmartphone,ithadtocomefrommilitaryorspyagencies.If he cross-referencedwith the names thatwere starting to come in on theDeOssie…maybetheycouldfindaconnection.

EvanandSineadhadwrittenaprogramtoresearchthejacketlabelthey’dgottenoffthevideofromVesperOne.ItwasacompanyintheCzechRepublicwithfactoriesinChinathat sold throughout the US and Europe. With a new expanded search engine, thecomputerwasnowpullingupeveryretailoutletthatcarriedthebrand.Itwasalonglist.

Ian checked the program over Evan’s shoulder.He stared at the store names,whichblurredinfrontofhistiredeyes.

“WhatisWalmart?”heasked.

“It’sthenewestluxurystore.JustlikeHarrod’s.You’dloveit,”Evanassuredhim.

“Whoa!”Sineadsuddenlyleapedtoherfeet.“Bingo!ThatlasttextforCheyenne?I’vetrackeddownthelocation!Youarenotgoingtobelievethis!”

Amyfelthercellbuzzinherpocket.Shepluckeditout.TherewasatextfromSinead.

URGENT!TRACEDORIGINOFLASTTEXTONCHEYENNE’SPHONE.WASSENTFROMTOWNOFKUTNÁHORA—CLOSETOPRAGUE.CONTACTATTLEBOROIMMEDIATELY.

Itwasabreakthrough.Arealbreakthrough.

AmyshowedDanthetext.“That’sthreeconnectionstotheCzechRepublic—Jane’snote, the jacket label, and now the text!Maybe the hostages are being held right nearhere!”

Theyturnedoffthemainstreetontoaquietsidestreet.AmyquicklydialedAttleboroandputDanonthree-waycalling.

“Thereyouare!”Sineadletoutanexplosivesighofrelief.“Didyougetmytext?”

“Greatnews!Where’sKutnáHora?”

“It’s only about forty minutes from Prague. We’ve been able to pinpoint the exactlocation— itwasactually sent fromSedlec, a suburbofKutnáHora.There’s a churchtherecalledAllSaints—wethinkitwassentfromthere.”

“Whatdidthetextsay?”

“We couldn’t retrieve it,” Sinead said, disappointed. “We only knowwhatHamiltonsaw—”

“‘G is in the picture, could need removal,’” Amy repeated from memory. “Janementionsa‘G,’too.Butitcan’tbethesameone.Therearesomanyrandompiecesinthispuzzle!”

“Tellmeaboutit,”Sineadsaid.“ErasmusisonhiswaytoRometoseeMr.McIntyre.They’regoingtobrainstormwaystogetInterpoloffyourback.Maybepullsomestrings.AndIanisworkingonaCahillconnectiontogetyouinatthelibrary.”

“Great.We’llleaveforKutnáHorarightnow.”

“Look,wejustwantyoutocheckitout.Surveillanceonly.Ifyoususpectthehostagesarethere,hangback.Don’tdoanythingcrazy.Wecanputateamtogetherintwenty-fourhoursifweneedto.”

“But if we wait, they could be moved!What would you do?” Amy waited out thepause.Sineadwasherbest friend.SheknewthatSineadwouldwant toprotecther.Butshe’dalsotellherthetruth.

“I’dgoin,”Sineadsaid.

Rome,Italy

Theapartmentfeltlonelynowthattheirfatherwasaway,andinthemorningAtticusandJakeRosenbloombegananewroutineoffloppingonthedeepcouchesintheirdad’sstudytodotheirwork.Surroundedbytheirfather’sbooksandstacksoffiles,theyfeltclosertohim.

Atticus could tell that his half brother, Jake, was still brooding about what hadhappened with Amy and Dan Cahill. Jake had turned them in to Interpol, but theauthorities didn’t seem to believe Jake when he’d said they’d stolen the originalmanuscriptofMarcoPolo’sIlMilione.

Atticuswas getting over his shock and hurt.He’d thought and thought about it, andhe’ddecidedthattheremustbesomethinggoingonthatDanwasafraidtotellhim.Theywere buddies, even thoughDanwas two years older.He still remembered the look onDan’s face as he seized Il Milione and took off. Like he’d wanted to tell Atticussomething,buthecouldn’t.

He’d felt so let down by Dan, but he didn’t have many friends to spare. Being aneleven-year-oldcollege freshmanwasn’t easy.Hecouldn’t exactly join inconversationsaboutdatingorconcerts.Andhedidn’thavemuchtosaytokidshisownage,either.Theyjust thoughthewasweird.Atticussmiled, rememberingwhatDan’s response toAtticussayingthathadbeen.Dude,youareweird.Embracetheweirdness!It’scool.

“Whatdoyouwantforbreakfast”Jakeaskedhim.

“Areyouactuallygoingtocook?”Atticusasked.

“IthinkIcanmanagetoboilwaterandputsomeoatmealinit.”

Atticus snorted. “If you think that’s all there is to it, you haven’t lived in Italy longenough.”

Thephonerang,andbothbrotherslookedatitforamomentbeforebendingovertheirbooksagain.MarkRosenbloomwasaworld-famousscholarwithabestsellingbook.Hegotcallsallthetime.

Theansweringmachinewasturnedup,andtheaccentedvoicewasclearandcrisp.

“Goodafternoon,Dr.Rosenbloom.”

“Hungarian,”Jakesaid.

“Czech,”Atticuscorrected.Jakewasterribleataccents.

“This is Katja Mavel, from the Library of Philosophy and Cosmology in Prague.Perhaps… ah… you’ll remember me from your last visit.” The voice had suddenlydroppedinaflirtatiousway.

Jakerolledhiseyes.Atticussighed.Sometimes itwashardbeingaskinnynerdwithglasses in theRosenbloomfamily.MarkRosenbloomtendedtomakelibrariansweakin

theknees.Jakehadinheritedeverybitofhisdarkgoodlooks.

“Wesharedacupofcoffeeandyouwerezo informativeaboutcatalogingourobjectcollection….”

Withasigh,Atticusgotuptoturnoffthevolumeonthemachine.

“Inanyevent,IthoughtIwouldcontactyoudirectlyabouttwostudentsofyourswhosayyousentthemtous.Abrotherandasister.Theylookedratheryoung…butIknowthatyoudoworkwithyoungerstudents.Perhapstheyareprodigieslikeyourson.”

Atticusstopped.Jakesatup.

“Sarah Teague, she said her name was. They said they were researching JohannesKepler? The Mysterium Cosmographicum — the one that was rescued fromNeuschwansteinCastle after thewar.Odd, because I did not think thiswas quite yourfield.Wecouldnotlettheminwithouttheproperlettersofintroduction.Iamzosorryifthisbecomesaproblem.Ifyoucouldcallmedirectly,I’msurewewouldbeabletoclearthisup.Good-bye,Dr.Rosenbloom…Mark.”

Jakethrewasidehisbook.“It’sthem!It’sthoseCahills!”

“Wedon’tknowthatforsure,”Atticussaid.

“Ofcourse it is.Stopprotectinghim!”Jakefumed.“Nowthey’reprobablyusingourfather’snameandreputationtostealsomethingelse!”

“Youdon’tknowthatthey’regoingtostealanything!”

“Atticus,comeon!Theystoleapricelessmanuscript!They’recrooks!”

“Athiefdoesn’tsayhe’ssorry.Dansaidthattome!Andhereallymeantit!Hedidn’twanttotakeit.”

Jakeshookhisheadsadly.“Buddy,you’vegottostophero-worshippingthisguy.”

“I’mnot!”Atticus’sthroatfelttight.

Jakestoodup.“I’mgoingtocallInterpol.”

“Theydidn’tbelieveyoulasttime.”

“ThistimeI’llbemoreconvincing.”Jakecrossedtheroominthreequicksteps.“Whoknowswhatthey’regoingtostealnext?TheMadKing’sbody?!”

Atticusfroze.“Whatdidyousay?”

“Neuschwanstein Castle. It was built by Ludwig the Second.What you don’t knowabouthistoryafterA.D.100scaresme.”

Atticusfeltthewordshithimlikehardpunches,likewhenheusedtogetbeatupathislockerbeforehisparentstookhimoutofmiddleschool.

Jakehadhishandonthereceiver.Atticusleapedacrosstheroomandthrewhimselfathisbrother.Itwaslikeasmalltwigbattlingaredwood.“Youcan’t!”

“Hey!”Jakebackedup.“Whatisitwithyou?”

“Youcan’t,”Atticus repeateddesperately.HowcouldheconvinceJakenot tocall intheauthorities?Howcouldhetellhimthateverythinghadchangedwhenhe’dmentionedtheMadKing?

Atticus’sthoughtswhirled.Itcouldn’tbeacoincidence.Itjustcouldn’t.

Hesqueezedhiseyesshutforamomentasthememorieslituphisbrain.Thenightshedied.Amemoryhealwaysblocked,because the sight and soundsofherdyingwere soterribleheneverwantedtorevisitthem.

Untilhehadto.Righthere,rightnow.

Thatnight,everyoneelsehadgonefromthehospitalroomwheretheyhadbeensittingvigilforthreedays.Astridhadbeensickforweekswithamysteriousillnessthedoctorscouldnot identify.Suddenly, shehad takena turn for theworse.She’dcollapsedatherofficeandhadbeenrushedtothehospital.Shehadn’tregainedconsciousness.

Jaketooktheirexhaustedfathertogetcoffeedownstairs.Herdevotedassistant,Dave,hadfinallylistenedwhenMarktoldhimtogohometobed.TherewasonlyAtticusintheroom.Hewashungryandtired,too,buttheyallknewthattheycouldn’tbeartoleaveheralone.Asthoughiftheydid,shewoulddie.

Shediedanyway.

Atfirst,hethoughthewasoverhearingherdreams.

“V-One.He’sV-One!Vespers…”

Then she’d come fully awake. He was holding her hand when he felt his beingsqueezed.

“Mom!”Tearsspurtedintohiseyeswhenhesawhersmile.

“Atticus.”Shewetherlips.“Sothirsty.”

Hegaveherasipofwater.“I’llgetDad.”

“No!Youmustlisten.Lastchance.”

“You’regoingtogetbetter.”Atticuschokedbacktears.

Shesqueezedhishand.“Listen.Verycarefully.Rememberthebedtimestory?TheoneIusedtotellyou?”

Atticusnodded.Hedidn’trememberthestoryverywell,notreally,buthewantedhertocalmdown.

“Thering.Thering.Doyouremember?Theycanhelpyou.Buttheydon’tknowwhoweare!Iampassingalongguardianshiptoyou.”

Guardianship? Of who? Jake? Jake was seven years older than he was. Of course,AtticusalwaystoldJakehewaswaysmarter,buthewasjoking.Halfjoking.

“You are a guardian. You must continue. Tradition. So much at stake. Follow thesparrowtotheMadKing’scastle.”

Itwasstrangehowcalmandfocusedsheseemed,eventhoughherwordswerecrazy.“Sure,Mom,”Atticus said soothingly.His gaze darted toward the door.Hewished hisfatherwouldgetback.“TheMadKing’scastle.Gotit.”

“Darlingboy…”Suddenly,hergazeunfocusedandshetightenedhergripasthepaincame.

“Nurse!”Atticusshouted.

“Promiseme,”shewhispered.

“Ipromise,Mom.”

“Mypapers.Lookinmypapers.Promise.”

“Ipromise.”

“Grace,”shewhispered.“Ineedgrace.”

Hismotherhadneverbeenreligious.“Doyouwantmetogetthechaplain?”

Sheshookherhead,frustrationandpainonherface.“Vespers,”shewhisperedthroughcrackedlips.“Theoldestofenemies.Guardian,promiseme.”

“Ipromise,”hesaid,forthelasttime.

Onelast,gaspedsentence.“StayfriendswithDanCahill.”

Sheclosedhereyes,andherhandwentlimp.Shediedtwohourslater.

Nowtheagonyofthatnightsweptoverhimagain,andhewantedtocrashtohiskneesandsob.Hewasn’toverhismother’sdeath.

Buthehadtobestrong.Hehadtofigurethisout.Deathbedpromises,madeinaswirlofwordshedidn’tunderstand.Thepaininhereyes.Thewayshegaspedforbreath.

Whatifthosethingsshewastryingtotellhim…werereal?

StayfriendswithDanCahill.He’dthoughtshewasjustreassuringherselfthathersonwould continue his only friendship after her death. But now, in his head, he heard hervoice.Heheardtheurgencyofit.

Heglanceddesperatelyathisbrother.Howcouldhefindthewords to tellhim?JakewouldneverbelievehimaboutAstrid.He’dsayshewasdelusional, thatshewasfullofpainkillers….

Jakewasalreadydialing.

“Please,Jake!”

ThedesperateemotioninhisvoicemadeJakestop.

Atticusthoughtfast.HehadtogiveJakeareasontogofindAmyandDan.Hisbrainwassuddenlyfiringwithconnections,andhehadafeelingthatonlyDanandAmycould

answerhisquestions.

“Interpolwon’tlisten,”hesaid.“Maybeyou’reright—whatifDanandAmyareaftersomethingelse?Andthey’reusingDad’sname.Whatiftheyimplicatehiminthecrime?”

“Allthemorereasontocalltheauthorities,”Jakesaid.

“No,”Atticussaid.“AllthemorereasontogotoPrague.”

KutnáHorawasapicturesquecitythathadoncesatontopofEurope’smostprosperoussilver mine. Back in medieval times, it was second only to Prague in importance. St.Barbara’sCathedralwasrenownedforitsGothicmagnificence,andthetownwaspopularwithtourists.AmyandDanmilledwiththemastheyexitedthetrainstation.Mostheadedforthecathedralortheminingmuseuminafifteenth-centurycastle.

“DoyouknowwhattheCzechsusedtodowithpeopletheydidn’tlikebackinyeoldemedievaldays?”DanaskedAmy.“Throwthemout thewindow.Really, I read iton thetrain.It’scalleddefenestration.Ithappenedinthefourteenhundreds.Andtherewasthisevent called theGreatDefenestration in the sixteen hundreds,where this one group ofguys threw this other group of guys they didn’t like out thewindow of PragueCastle.Theyactuallylived,becausetheylandedinadungheap.Now,there’sasoftlanding.Butitstartedatrend.There’sactuallyanindexentryfordefenestrationsintheguidebook.Isn’tthatcrazy?”

“Sincewhenareyouinterestedinhistory?”

“I’mnot.I’minterestedinwildactsofdefenestration.DoyouthinkwecouldarrangetomeetCasperWyominginPragueCastle?”

“Sure.Keepthinking,Dan.Comeon,let’sfindthebus.”

AmyboughtbusticketsatatabacandaskeddirectionstothebusforSedlec.ItwasaneasywalktoMasarykovaStreet.

TheridetoSedlecwasn’tlong,andsoontheywerepullingupinasmallsuburb.Theyjumpedoffthebuswithseveralotherpassengers.Atouristwithacameraandabackpackapproachedthem.“Isthisthewaytothebonechurch?”heaskedAmy.

“YoumeanAllSaints?”Amyasked.“Ithinkitmustbethatchurchupahead.”

“Thebonechurch?”Danmurmuredashewalkedaway.

Tuckednexttothesideofthechurchwasacemetery.Dansawaskullandbones,likeaJollyRoger,attheentrance.

Arealskull.Withrealbones.

“Cool,”hebreathed.“It’sliketheChurchofPirates.”

Theypaidtheirmoneyandwalkedin.Therewereafewothersinthechapel,walkingbackand forth, studying thedecorativegarlands, the splendidwhite chandelier, and thesculpturesagainstthewalls.

Itwasallfairlymagnificent—andthenyounoticedwhateverythingwasmadeof.

“It’sallbones,”Dansaidinawe.“Humanbones!Isthisthecoolestthingintheworld,or thecreepiest?Orboth?”Heglancedoverat a skull sittingonapileof fingerbones.“Dude?Canyoulendmeahand?”

Theskullstaredback,itslowerjawmissing.“Catgotyourtongue?”Danasked.

Amygrinned.ShewasalwaysgladtoseethegoofballinDanreappear.Sheconsultedthepamphlet. “Thereare thebonesofat least forty thousandpeoplehere.Lotsof themdiedoftheplague.Whentheybuilt thechurchaboveus, theyturnedthischapelintoanossuary—aplaceforbones.Butthereweresomanythatin1870theyfinallyaskedthisguyto…uh,arrangethem.Sohedidthis.”

“Whatacoolyeoldespookmasterdude,”Danapproved.

They walked around in awe. What Amy had thought were carved stone garlandshangingfromthebalconiesabovewerearmandlegbones.Askullstaredatthemblankly,alegboneclampedbetweenitsjaws.

“The chandelier ismade up of every human bone,”Amywhispered toDan as theylookedabovetheirheads.

Despite the creep factor, there was something so beautiful about this place, Amythought.Theflutteryedgesofthehipboneslookedlikeenormousflowers.Thelineupoffingerboneswasadelicatenecklace.Acarved,paintedcherubblew intoagoldenhornwhilecasuallybalancinghalfaskullonitsknee.

Danwanderedovertoanalcove.Behindawirescreenwasamoundofbonesstackedinperfectrows.Alternatingrowsofskullssatonthearrangedbones.Theirholloweyesstaredout.Somealmostseemedtohaveexpressions.Oneleanedover,restingonthenextone,andAmyfoundherselfdrawnintothoseblack,blackeyes.

Somehowthecreepyfeelinglefther.Deathsurroundedher,butheresheandDanwerestanding,livingandbreathing,andalltheseboneswerejustevidenceofmanyliveslivedbeforehers.

Dan gripped the wire grating. He moved closer to the skulls, staring, staring. Hislightheartedmoodwassuddenlygone.Amyfeltaflutterofalarm.Whatwasheseeing?

“We’re breathing in death,” he murmured. “Every day.” He half turned to Amy.“Everybodydies.Whydowerunawaysohardandsofast,whenit’salwaysthere?”

“Werunawayhardandfastbecausewedon’twanttodie,”Amysaid.

Dan seemed mesmerized by the black holes in the skull. Amy was afraid of hisexpression.

Danshookhishead.“Itallseemsso…futile.”

“Futile?”AmyhadneverheardDanusethatwordbefore.“Youmean,pointless?”

“Yeah. I know themeaning of theword,Amy. I’m not quite as dumb as everybodythinksIam.Iknow,I’vegotthephotographicmemory,butyou’vegotthebrains,right?”

Dan’stonewassarcastic.Notteasing,butflatandalmostmean.

“Not right,”Amy said, shocked.Was thatwhatDan really thought? “Nobody thinksthat.”

Danturnedhisbackonhertogazeatthebones.“Futile.Stupidandpointless.”

Amy took a breath. She felt the hurtful sting ofDan’s tone, but she had no urge tostampoff.TherewassomethingheadingforDan,somethingthatcastahugeshadow,andherfirst instinctwas tograbhisarmandpullhimawayfromthedarknessshesaw.Butthatwouldjustmakethedarknessgrow.

“Itdoesn’tseemthatwaytome,”shesaid.Shekepthervoicequiet.“Itseemstomethatwe’redoingwhatallthesepeopledid.Just…tryingtoliveinthebestwaywecan.Protecting the people we love. We give it everything we have. Just like these peopleprobablydid.”

Dandidn’tsayanything.Itwaslikehehadn’tevenheardher.

“AndIdon’tthinkyou’restupid,”sheaddedfiercely.

Shefelthercellphonebuzzinherpocket.ShecheckedtheID.Sinead.

“Areyouin?”Sineadasked.

“We’rein.Nothingtosee.Nothingbutoldbones.”

“Listen,Ihaveanotherlead.We’recertainnowthatthetextthatCheyennegotwasnotfromamobiledevice.”

“Meaningitwasfromacomputer?Inthechurch?”

“Exactly.Andwefiguredoutthealtitudeofthecomputer.It’saboutsixfeetdownfromwhereyou’restanding.”

Amylookedaround.Thechurchandchapelwereupaslightriseandlookeddownonthecemetery.Shewalkedafewfeetawaysothatnoonecouldoverhear.

“Sotheremustbearoombelowus,”shewhispered.

“Exactly.Lookaround.Andkeepthelineopen,okay?”

“Okay,we’removing.”Amy slippedonher earpiece andmotioned toDan.She sawwithreliefthatheseemedtohaveshakenoffhismood.

Theywalked around the perimeter of the church, under the fantastic ropes of bones.Theycruiseddowntheoppositeside.AdoorhadasigninCzech,andtheyhesitated.

“Itcouldsaywelcome,oritcouldsaykeepout,”Amysaid.

“Maybeweshoulddoaspell-Czech,”Dansaid,openingthedoor.

Thedoorledtoanarrowflightofstairsmadeoflargepiecesofstone.Theywereworninthemiddlefromthethousandsoffeetthathadtraveleddownandupoverthecenturies.Danclosedthedoorbehindthem,andimmediatelytheywereplungedintodarkness.Amygot out her penlight and shined it on the stairs. They crept down. The place smelledancientanddamp.Theroofwaslowabovetheirheads.Itdripped.

When they reached the bottom, she swung the penlight along a narrow passageway.Evenhere,boneshungingarlandsandwerearrangedindisplays.Skullslinedashelfthatranthelengthofthepassage.

“Ican’tseeanythingonthevideofeed,”Sineadsaid.“Whatisit?”

“It must be the passage to the cemetery,” Amy said. “I can’t imagine keeping acomputerdownhere.”

“Amy?Lookatthis.”Danstoodinfrontofametalgrate.Behinditwasasmallroom.Hepushedopenthegrateandwalkedin.Itwaslikeamini-amphitheater,onlywithdeadpeopleaspatrons.Skullswerearrangedinpilesaroundtheroom,stackedatoplegbonesand hip bones. Flat, narrow ledges ran around the room, serving as seats. Therewas aclear, flat, raised space along the farwall.Over itwas an arrangement of bones in theshapeofagiantletter.

“Maybe the original guy who did the chapel — maybe he was a Vesper,” Amywhispered.Somehow,whispersseemedappropriatehere.

Danmoved around the space. “Look at this candle.”Heheld out a candlewithwaxdrippeddownintotheholder.“It’sbeenusedrecently—there’snogrimeordustinthewax.”

“Butthere’snocomputerhere,”Amysaid.“Pleasedon’ttellmewehavetodigthroughthebones.”

“No, look how they’re arranged— itwould be impossible tomove them and stackthemagainsoperfectly.Ithinkyou’reright—itmusthavebeenalaptop.”

“Buttherehadtobeapowersource,”SineadinsistedinAmy’sear.“Canyoufindanoutletanywhere?”

Dan and Amy shined their penlights on the walls close to the floor. Suddenly, Dancaughtsightofsomething.Hekneltonthefloor.“Whoa.Thiswouldbesoeasytomiss.DidtheyhaveUSBportsintheMiddleAges?”

“Tryit!”Sineadsaidquickly.

Dan fished inhispack for a cableandhookeduphis computer to theUSBport.Hescannedthedrive.Nothingcameup.“It’sbeenwiped.”

“I’mgoingtohandthephonetoEvan—he’lltalkyouthroughit.Youmightbeabletoscrapesomethingoffit.”

Dansettledwithhisbackagainstthewall,computerinhislap.AsEvanreadoutalistofcodes,hetypedthemintohiscomputer.TheUSBiconflashed.

“Ithinksomething’scomingthrough…it’safile.”Danclickedonit.“Somekindofreport.Butit’sonlyafewsentences.”

“Saveittoyourharddriveandthene-mailithere.”

Dan read the document as he pressed SAVE. “It won’t save,” he said. “Or send. It’sencryptedsomehow.Andpartsofitareblackedout.”

V-1report

infiltratedfamilyw/twochildren.LeftMAw/missioncomplete.Informationsuccessfullydestroyed.NosuspicionfromG.Coverupsuccessful.Motherdeceased.Childrenare

“It’sdisappearing,”Dansaid.“Thewordsaredisappearing!”

“It’sanautomaticwipe!”Sineadcried.“Therecouldbeanalertattached to it.You’dbettergetoutofthere.”

Danflippedoverontohiskneestoquicklystuffthecomputerinhisbackpack.Heheldhispenlightinhismouth.Ashezippedthepack,thelightwaveredontheoldstones.Hestopped.Someonehadcarvedtheirinitialsintothewall.

Amystoodatthedoor.“Comeon,Dan!”

Heranhisfingersoverthecarving.

“Let’sgo!”

Danwrenchedhimselfaway.

AshefollowedAmy’swaveringshadowdownthepassageway,itseemedtoflickerandthenfade.Andtheshadowbehindhimseemedtogrow.

infiltratedfamily

twochildren

MA

informationsuccessfullydestroyed

Motherdeceased

nosuspicionfromG

Andtheinitialsseemedtoflameandburninsidehisbrain.

A.J.T.

At the endof a passagewaywas another door, smallwith a pointed arch.Therewasonlyaslidingironlock.Amypusheditbackandopenedthedoor.Graylightfloodedthepassageway.Theysteppedoutintoasoftrainandpickedtheirwaythroughthegraves.

“Amy,”Dansaid,stopping.Thesmellreleasedbytherainwasofdeadleavesandcoldstone,andhecouldtasteitinhismouth.“Amy…”

Hissisterturnedimpatiently.“Wehavetomakethebus….”

“Amy.”Hespokehername for the third time.Wasn’t that thecharm inevery fable?Sayanamethreetimes?Andtheparentturnsintoawitch,awolf,abeast.

“Isawinitialscarvedthere….A.J.T….andthereport…itprovesit.”

“Proveswhat?

Danwheeledtofaceher,anguishtwistinghisfeatures.“ThatourfatherwasaVesper.”

Amystumbledagainst thecold stone.Shesatdownand restedher foreheadagainst thecemeterymarker.ItwaslikeDanwashurlingstonesinsteadofwords.

“Therewerehis initials, right there,”Dansaid.“Andthedate—hewaseighteen. Insomesortofweird,spookyVesperhideout!”

“It’sthreelettersinacertaincombination,”Amysaid.“A.J.T.ItcouldbeAlbertJohnToboggan.ItcouldbeAdamJeffreyTurquoise.Itcouldbeanything!”

“What about the document? Infiltrating a family in Massachusetts? Two children?Informationdestroyed?Whatinformation?”

Amyshookherheadviolently.“Idon’tbelieveanyofthis.Youshouldn’t,either.We’vebeen through thisbefore,Dan!We’vealreadybeenafraid thatourparentswere thebadguys.Weknowtheyweren’t!”

“AndwhataboutnosuspicionfromG?It’sGrace!”

“There’saGinJane’snotebook,too.”

“ThatcouldbeGraceaswell.WhatifJanewasaVesper?”

“Shewasn’taVesper!”Amybarked this furiously.Shehadgrownfondof Jane.Sherefusedtobelieveshecouldhavebeenpartofsuchadespicableorganization.

Andherfathercouldn’thavebeen,either.

“Whatifhe’snotdead?”Danaskedinahushedtone.“Whatifhe’sstillaVesper?”

AmyshookherheadastheenormousweightofDan’swordshither.Sheswallowed,feelingsick.“No.”

“Thefire…hewasconcealingtheevidence!”

“IsabelKabraset that fire!Weknowthat!Andweburiedhim.Theyfoundhisbody,okay?”Amywasyellingnow.“Don’tyouthinkGracewouldhavechecked?”

“Checkedwhat? Fingerprints?He died in a fire. Exceptmaybe he didn’t.Somebodydid.Howarewesupposedtoknowwhoitwas?”

“Dan,wewere there thatnight. I rememberpartsof it. IknowDadwas there. Isawhim!”

“Yes,hewasthere.Butmaybeheescaped.Doyourememberthecircusgirl?ShesaidthatV-Onehadaburn.”

Amystoodbackuponshakylegs.“Thisisallcircumstantial.You’rereallyjumpingtoconclusions.”

“Areyoutheonlyoneallowedtohaveinstincts,Amy?”

“OurfatherwasnotaVesper!”SheglaredatDanwithall the fury thatblazed insideher.“Sincewhenareyousoquicktodenouncehim?”shedemanded.“Hewasyourhero!”

ThelostlookinDan’seyesfrightenedher.“SinceIgrewup.”

Eventhroughheranger,Amyfeltsomethingpierceherheart.Fear.Shewassoafraidforherbrother.Hadhereallylosthischildhood?WasthatwhattheCluehunthaddone?

TheVesperphonebuzzedinherpocket.Shefeltrevulsionriseinherthroat.ShehatedVesperOne.Shehatedallofthem.Sheaccessedthetext.

Greetings,children.Timeisrunningout.

Amy scrolled down. It was a low-resolution photograph of the hostages. Clumpedtogether,madetositinalineintheirjumpsuits.Staringatthecamera.

They returned to Prague in silence. Amy had sent a text to Attleboro, not trustingherselftospeak.

NEEDTOCONTACTERASMUSIMMEDIATELY.HAVEHIMCALLORTEXTUSWITHATIMETOSPEAK.

TheysatinanoutdoorcaféinOldTownSquare,watchingthedarknessfall.Acrossthesquare, tourists gathered at the top of the hour to see the famousAstronomical Clock.Amyhearditbongsixtimes.Theyorderedadinnertheydidn’twant.ToAmy,itfeltliketheendoftheworld.Theywouldgetintothelibrarysomehowtomorrow;shehadenoughfaithtoknowthat.ButwhethertheywouldfindthedeVirgaornot…

Amanmoved along the buildings of the square, from shadow to shadow. He woresmall, roundblue-tintedglassesandhadcurlydarkhairstreakedwithgray. Inhisblackleatherjacketandblackjeanshelookedlikeashadowhimself.

Erasmusslidintoachairoppositethemandliftedonefingertohailthewaitress.“Ihearyouneedtotalktome.”HespokerapidlytothewaitressinCzech.

“Wedidn’tknowyouwereinPrague,”Amysaid.“SineadsaidyouwereonthewaytoRome.”

“IleaveforRometonight.”

Hepausedasthewaitressputdownasteamingcupofcoffee.Hetookasip.Behindthetinted glasses Amy knew his gaze was constantly roving, picking out possible danger,routesofescape.WhatErasmusdidbeforedevotinghimselftotheMadrigals,shedidn’tknow.ButhehadaVesperdatabaseinhishead,everyscrapofinformationtheMadrigalshadbeenabletopickupoverthecenturies.

AmywaswonderinghowtoaskthequestionwhenDanjustblurteditout.

“WasourfatheraVesper?”

Erasmustookacarefulsipofcoffee.Heleanedbackandblewoutasighashestaredout at the square. Then he took off his sunglasses. His eyes looked tired. He leanedforwardagain,hisbighandscradlingthecup.WitheverymoveandgestureAmyfeltherheartsink.Shewantedtorunasfarandasfastasshecouldtoescapewhatwascomingnext.

“Yes,”Erasmussaid.

“Thebrojustorders,”Jonahsaid.“I’mnotsayingIdon’tlikehim.I’mjustsaying.”

“Ihearyou,”Hamiltonsaid.HethrewanotherT-shirtintohispack.

“It’smyplane,bro.Andhewalksin,dressedsofineinhisleather,andhesays,‘We’regoingtoItalytonight,’andit’s,like,saywhat?”Jonahzippeduphisduffel.“I’djustlikeavote.That’sall.”

Still talking, they rode down in the elevator andwalked out into the lobby.A gray-hairedwomaninagrayjacketandashapelesshatwasjustgettingupfromachair.Justastheypassedher,Hamiltonslunghisbigpackoverhisshoulderandcaughtheronthesideofthehead.Shestumbled,andherpursewentflying.

“Oh,man,I’msosorry.”HamiltonandJonahdroppedtheirpacksandquicklystoopedovertohelpgathertheitemsthathadspilled.

“It is okay,” the woman said in an Italian accent. She shook her wallet at Jonahplayfully.“Iknowyou.JonahWizard.”

“Busted!”

“That is a funny choice of words. In American English, that can be slang for …arrested,no?”Thewoman’sbrowneyestwinkled.

“Word.Ishouldbecareful,right?”

“Youshouldbeverycareful.”Thewomanflippedherwalletopen.InsidetheysawanIDcard.LunaAmatowasthewoman’sname.Andthen,inbigblackletters—INTERPOL.“Perhapswecanhaveachat,no?”

JonahandHamiltonexchangedglances.Theyhada feeling that answering“no”wasnotanoption.

Shedirected them toaquietcornerof the lobby.Shesat inanarmchair,parkingherpurseonthefloor.Theysatontheedgeofthesofafacingher.

“Justalittlechat,”shesaidinafriendlyway.“YouarehereinPraguebecause…?”

“Justchillingwithmyhomey,doingthetouristthing,”Jonahsaid.

“Andyourcousins,AmyandDanCahill?Aretheyenjoyingthecityaswell?”

Jonah’sheartsankintohisrunningshoes.“Whoa,aretheyhere,too?Youknow,I’vegotabunchofcousins.Can’tkeeptrackofeverybody.”

“It seems tome,”LunaAmato said, “itwould be easy to keep track of peoplewhotravelwithyouonyourprivateplane.”

“Whatdoyouwant?”Hamiltonasked.

“Ah,let’scuttothechase,astheysayinAmericanmovies,no?”LunaAmatoleanedforward.“Iamhopingyouwill takeamessage toAmyandDanCahill.Weknow theyhaveIlMilione.”

Jonahkepthisfaceexpressionless.Hamiltonstiffened.

“Chemacello! What a mess! The lost manuscript! And these two children steal it!Why?Tosellit?Buttheyhaveafortunealready.Tokeepit?Buttheyarenotknownasart

lovers.Ihaveseenchildrenmanipulatedandforcedtodothingstheydonotwanttodo.Isaytomyself,maybethisisthecasewiththesetwo.”

“Sowhatisthemessage?”Jonahasked.

LunaAmatosighed.“Mypartner,MilosVanek—wearenotalike.Tohim,ifyoustealsomething,youareacriminal.Hedoesnotbelieveinmercy.Hebelievesinlaw.Hewillnotlistentowhattheysay.Iwilllisten.PerhapsevenIcanhelp.”Herfacewasintent.“Doyouunderstand?TheywillneedafriendatInterpol.Iamthatfriend.”

Shegavethemhercard.Thenshepickedupthepurseandwalkedoutwithoutlookingback.

“Dude,”Hamiltonsaid.

“Dawg,”Jonahsaid.“Ican’ttellifI’mscaredofher,orIwanthertobakemecookies.”

Thelightsglowedaroundthesquare.Therainhadclearedandfreshenedtheair.Buttheeveningwaschilly,andmostofthepatronsnowsatinsideinthewarm,litcafé.DanandAmy sat outside at the table, their dinners cold and untouched. Amy found she washuggingherselftightly,herfingersdiggingintoherarms.

“Hewasrecruited,”Erasmussaid.“AsVespersoftenare,whenthey’reyoung.Arthurwasincollege.WhenhetoldGracethestory,hemadeitclearthathehadnoideathattheVespers were a criminal organization. He was fascinated by the fact that, at that time,scientistsandengineersandhistorianswerepartofthegroup.TherewerehintsoffamousscholarsinhistorybeingVespers,peopleArthuradmired.HewasapproachedbyVesperOne—theformerVesperOne.Weknowthathediedaboutthreeyearsago.”

“ButthatmeansheknewwhoVesperOnewas,”Dansaid.

Erasmus shook his head. “He never knew. There’s a courting period where theyindoctrinate you—you don’t know anyone’s real identity at first. There’s an initiationceremony.Arthurwas attracted to certain parts of theVesper heritage, I admit.Hewasyoung,ambitious,maybetooimpulsiveforhisowngood.Butafter…uh,certaindetailsof theVesperphilosophycameto light,hewashorrified.HerenouncedtheVespersandmarriedyourmother.YourfatherisoneofthereasonsweknowasmuchaswedoabouttheVespers.”

“WhatabouttheSedlecOssuary?”Danasked.“Whydidn’thetellyouaboutthat?”

ThechallengeinDan’svoicemadeErasmusfrown.

“I’mguessing thatwas the siteofhis initiation,”Erasmus said. “Hewasblindfoldedandtakenthere.HeonlyknewitwassomewherenearPrague.”

“Sohenever…”Amyswallowed.“Heneverdidanythingbad.”

ErasmusturnedhisgazetoAmy.“Iknewyourfather.Hewasagoodman.”

“Thankyoufortellingus,”Amysaid.

“You can count on me anytime,” Erasmus said. He slipped his sunglasses into hispocket.“Rememberthis:We’reonadangerouspath.Butwehavebeenonitforcenturies.Wewillprevail.”

Assilentlyandgracefullyashehadappeared,heleft.Withinmoments,Amycouldnottellwherehe’dgone.Shecouldseeonlyshadowswherehehadbeen.

Amywokeuptoagraymorning.Shedidn’tknowifshe’dreallyslept.Thedreamsweresoreal…theblurredmemoryofherfatherswingingherintoagrocerycart,stringingpinkfairylightsalloverherbedroomtosurpriseherforabirthday,makingasuitoutofbubblewrapanddeclaringhimselfKingBubtheInvincible.

CouldthatmanbeaVesper?

She’dtriedtotalktoDanaboutit,butDanhadwithdrawnintohimself.Themusclesofhisfacepulledtight,andhiseyeswentflat.Shewantedtoshakehim,asthoughshecouldshakegoodmemoriesintohim,thethingsabouttheirfatherthathecouldn’tremember.

Butthensherememberedotherthings.Comingintotheroomandjustcatchingtheendofanargumentbetweenhermotherandherfather.

“Whataren’tyoutellingme,Arthur?”

Thelookonhisfacewhenhedidn’tknowshewaswatchinghim.Staringintothefireinthestudy,grippingthebookathisside,theorangeflamesflickeringonthetautlineofhismouth…

Danlookedsomuchlikehim.

Sohenever…heneverdidanythingbad.

Iknewyourfather.Hewasagoodman.

Amyrealized something:Erasmushadnot reallyansweredherquestion.Couldgoodmendobadthings?Aquestionaskedbyagoodgirl…whohadstolen,lied.

Amythrewbackthecovers.Shehurriedintothebathroomtowashherfaceandbrushher teeth.Shedressedquickly,pullingonher jeansand thesameT-shirtshe’dworn thedaybefore.Shesmoothedoutthewrinklesasbestshecould.Soonerorlater,they’dhavetofindaLaundromat.

Bythetimeshecameoutofthebathroom,Danwasawakeandstaringoutatthecity.Hewalkedpastherwithoutsayinggoodmorning.Sheknewhewasn’tangryather.Sheknewhewasthinking.

Shejustdidn’tknowwhathewasthinkingabout.

Shecheckedhere-mailaccounts.Ashorte-mailfromIan.

FoundUKprofessor(Lucianbranch)willingtosendevidenceofyourscholarlycredentialsto library.Staytuned.

Thatwasgoodnews.Consideringthetimedifference,shemighthaveheardsomethingalready.Shecheckedtheseparate,secureaccountandsawthee-mail.Holdingherbreath,

sheclickedonit.

DearMissTeague,

Yourauthorizationtostudyatthelibrarycamethrough.Youmaycomethismorningat10.KatjaMavel

Amyfeltreliefflowthroughher.Notjustbecausethey’dgainedaccesstothelibrary.Butbecauseshewouldn’thavetothinkaboutherfatheranymore.

“Dan!Hurryup!We’rein!”

Theyhurriedthroughthesteeldoorsofthelibrary.Inthevestibule,alongwiththesinglepolished-steelumbrellastand,twoboyswerewaiting.

AmyandDanstoppedshort.ItwasAtticusandJakeRosenbloom.Atticusworeahatwithearflaps.Jakeworeascowl.Danstoodononefoot,poisedtorun.

Amyrememberedthelasttimeshe’dseenJake.She’djustkickedhimintheribs,hardenoughtotakehisbreathaway.SherememberedhislookofsurpriseandoutrageashefelloverbackwardontothehardstonesoftheColosseum.Thathadbeenonesatisfyingkick.

“Wait!”Atticussaidexcitedly.“Wejustwanttotalktoyou!Please!”

ThepleadinginhisvoicemadeDanpause.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”heasked.

“Don’ttrytostopus,”Amysaid,lookingatJake.Butitwasanemptythreat,andsheknewit.Sheglancedaround,lookingfortheInterpolagents.

“Wecamealone,”Atticusquicklysaid.“Thisisn’tatrap.”

“Whyshouldwebelieveyou?”Amycountered.HergazeflickedtoJake.“Youturnedusin.”

“Ofcoursewedid!”Jakeexclaimed.“Youstoleapricelesshistoricaldocument!”

“Andyouwentrunningrighttosecurity,didn’tyou?”Amysaidscornfully.

“YoubetIdid.Becauseitwastherightthingtodo!”

“Areyougoingtodoitagain,rightnow?”Amyaskedfuriously.“Orwouldyoulikeanotherkickintheribs?”

Sheadjustedherpackasthoughreadytostrike.Shewantedto.Hedeservedit.

“Look,theonlyreasonI’mhereistoprotectmyfather.You’reusinghisnametogetsomething.Stealsomething.”Suddenly,Jakereachedoutandgrabbedherpack.“Isit inhere?”

Shewentafterhim,grabbingatthepack.“Hey!”

Jake already had it open. Amy’s crumpled T-shirts fell out, alongwith her researchmaterials.OnesheetofpaperdrifteddownandlandedatAtticus’sfeet.

ThefaceofJaneSperlingatnineteenstaredupatthem.Thephotohadbeenpulledoffthe Internet, and it was grainy and dark. Laughing eyes, black hair to her shoulders,dressedinabeltedgraycoat,standingbyabaretree.Thewindmusthavebeenblowing,becauseafilmyscarfalmostobliteratedhersmile.

Atticuspickedupthepaper.Hestareddownatit,thenupatthem.“Whatareyoudoingwithapictureofmygreat-grandmother?”

Nobodyspokeastheywalkeddownanarrowalleythatopenedintoasmall,emptysquare.Atticusclutchedthepictureagainsthischest.

“Whydoyouhavethis?”heaskedagain.

Instead of answering,Amyposed a question. “What do you know about your great-grandmother?”

“Notmuch,”Atticus said. “She lived inMaine. Shewas Jewish, but shemarried anAfricanAmericansoldier,backwhenyoujustdidn’tdostufflikethat.”

“Why do you have the photo?” Jake demanded. “We should be the ones askingquestions,notyou.”

“Beforethewar,JaneSperlingwasastudentinGermany,”Amysaid.

Atticusnodded.“Shewasamedievalscholar.”

“ShespentthewaryearsinLondon.ShewasanAmericanspy.”

Jakeletoutasurprisedbarkofalaugh.“NowIknowyou’recrazy.Aspy?”

ButAtticuslookedinterested.Amysawtheflashofcuriosityinhiseyes.“Whydoyouthinkthat?”

“Nevermindwhy.HercodenamewasSparrow.”

“Sparrow!” Atticus gave a start. He looked down at the picture again. “Follow thesparrowtotheMadKing…”hemurmured.

“TheMadKing?”Amyaskedinsistently.“Whydidyousaythat?”

“It’s something my mother said … the night she died. She was trying to tell mesomething.She’dbeenunconsciousfordays,andthenshecametoandtalkedtome.”

“Younevertoldusthat.”Jakelookedathisbrotherinsurprise.

“ShesaidthatIhadtofollowthesparrowtotheMadKing’scastle.Imean,whatwouldyouthink?”

“I’dthinkshewasdelirious.”

Amygrippedthenotebookdeepinherpocket.“Didshesayanythingelse?”

“Oh,crazystuff,”Atticussaid.“Shekepttalkingaboutvespersandgrace.Shesaidsheneededgrace.Whichisfunny,becauseshewasn’treligiousatall.”

“Grace?” Amy questioned sharply. “What if it was the name Grace? Like she wastalkingaboutaperson?”

“Shedidn’tknowanyonenamedGrace,”Jakebroke in.“Atticus,whydidn’tyou tellmethis,ortellDad?”

“Becauseitdidn’tmakesense.Andbecause…”Atticushesitated.“BecauseIcouldn’ttalkaboutitsomehow.Itwaslikeadream.ShetalkedaboutthisstoryshetoldmewhenIwasreallylittle.Abedtimestory.Icanbarelyrememberit.Therewasthisbravefamilyinitwhoprotectedaring….Idon’trememberthename.Somethingtodowithmusic.Orapoem.”

“Madrigal,”Amysaid.

“Yes! That’s it! Therewas a ring, and theMadrigals had to protect it. Therewas adragonnamed…”Atticuslookedupasknowledgelithisface.“Vesper!ThedragonwasnamedVesper.That’sallIcanremember.Shejustkeptsaying‘thering,thering.’”

Amyhadtostopherselffromtouchingherwatch.Shehadtrainedherselfnottokeepcheckingitwasthere.Theringwasn’tafantasystory.Itwasreal,andrestingagainstherskin.

“Would somebody please explain tomewhat’s going on?” Jake cried in frustration.“BecauseIfeellikeI’minsomesortofcrackedfairytale.”

Amy took out the notebook. “We found this in Neuschwanstein Castle, hidden in adrain.ItbelongedtoJaneSperling.”ShehandedthebooktoAtticus.

“Inthecastle?SomaybeIwasmeanttofindit!”Heopenedtheflapreverently.

ToG:dV528.112K

StolenbyHummel

repatriatedwV.Kepler

restingw/teacher&victim

togetherwiththespellboundwandererwillpointtheway

Atticuslookedupatthem.“Whatdoesitmean?”

“Wethink‘dV’referstothedeVirgaworldmap,”Amysaid.“WeknowforsurethatJanewasinterestedinit.”

Jakefrowned.“Idon’tknowwhatthatis.”

“It’samedievalworldmapthatwentmissingin1932.Yourgreat-grandmotherwasattheauctionwhenitwasstolen.”Amyquicklyrelatedtheirtheoryaboutwhathappenedtothemap.“Hummelstoleit,andJanegotitback.Thensheledushere.”

“I see!”Atticus exclaimed. “So thenumbers are a library collectionnumber.Andofcourse‘spellboundwanderer’isano-brainer.”

“Maybetoyou,”Dansaid.“I’mclueless.”

“MarcoPolo,”Atticus explained. “It’s aquote from IlMilione. It’s howMarco Poloreferstohimself.”

Amygroaned.“Weshouldhaveguessedthat!”

“Butwhydoyouwantthemap?”Jakeasked.HiseyebrowscamedownandhesquintedatAmysuspiciously.Shefeltaflareofannoyance.

Atticusjumpedinbeforeshecouldanswer.“Butwhat’sthisaboutteacherandvictim?”

“Wedon’tknow,”Dansaid.“Somethingthathappenedinthewar,maybe?”

“Notthewar,”Jakesaidslowly,stilllookingatthenotebook.“Hundredofyearsbeforethat.KeplerworkedforTychoBrahe, theDanishastronomer.Braheworkedanddied inPrague.Therearetheoriesthathewaspoisoned.Hisbodywasevenexhumedrecently—hediedofmercurypoisoning.Somepeople say thatKeplerdid it.So is thereaKeplermanuscripthere?”

Dannodded.“WethinkJaneleftaleadwithit—or,we’rehoping,themapitself.”

“Butwhy?”Jakeasked,darkeyesonAmy’s.Itwasannoyingthathekeptaskingtherightquestions.

He was still suspicious, but he was curious now. He was learning things about hisextendedfamilyhe’dneverdreamedof.Welcometotheclub.

“Maybewe’llfindouttoday,”Amysaid.“Ifwefindthemap.”

“Okay, this allmakes aweirdkindof sense,” Jake said. “If you’re a totally illogicalkindofperson.”HelookedatAmywhenhesaidit.

“Oritdoesn’tmakeanysenseifyou’reatotalresistantblockhead,”Amyshotback.

Hegloweredather.“Youstillaren’tansweringmyquestion.Whatdoesthishavetodowithyoutwo?”

“Wecan’t tellyou that,”Amysaid.“It’snot justoursecret.Butwecan tellyou thatlivesareatstake.Youjusthavetotrustus.”Sheraisedherchinandlookedhimintheeye.“You know, sometimes the right thing isn’t the thing you think is right. It’s the wrongthingyou’reafraidtothinkof.”

“WhenIfigureoutwhatthatmeans,I’llletyouknow.”

“Don’tyouwanttoknowifAtticus’sgreat-grandmotherwasaspywhohadherhandsonamedievalmappamundi?”Amyasked.

“C’mon,Jake,”Atticusurged.“Wehavetogetinside!”

ShesawinaflashthatdespiteallJake’sdoubts,hecouldn’twalkaway.Hiscuriositywouldleadhimforward.Withoutanotherword,sheturnedandheadedtowardthelibrary.Sheknewhe’dfollow.

Injustafewmoments,sheheardfootstepsandhisvoicebehindher.“Justdon’tstealit,”hesaid.

Amydecideditwasbetternottoanswer.

WiththesonsofMarkRosenbloomwiththem,AmyandDanhadnoproblemgettingintothelibrary.Theywereusheredintotherestrictedsection.KatjaMavelpersonallyledthemtotheRenaissancecollection.Itwaskeptinahumidity-controlledroom.

“Youwillhavetoleaveyourbackpacksouthere,”shesaid,pointingtoarackoutsidetheroom.“Nopacks,purses,pens,orpencilsareallowed.Thereisacomputerinsideforyouruseintakingnotes.Youmaysendthenotestotheprinter.”

Dan,Amy,andAtticusputtheirbackpacksontherack.Theywalkedintothecollectionroom.Thedoorshutbehindthemwithasharpclick.

“Thislooksstate-of-the-art,”Jakeremarked.

“Absolutely,” the librarian replied. “Temperature and humidity controlled, halon gasfireprotectionsystem,alldocumentsstoredinarchivalboxesthatarekeptinfire-resistantmetals.Oh,youknowthehalonsystem?Itdepletestheoxygenintheairincaseoffire,toprotectthematerials.Soifthealarmgoesoff,youmustexitimmediately.Thedoorwillautomatically lockwithin twominutes.Andof courseyoumustwear thegloves if youtouchthematerials.”

“Of course,” Dan said. He pulled on a pair of white cotton gloves and splayed hisfingers.“Andthey’realsosohelpfulforjazzhands.”

KatjaMavelopenedacaseandwithdrewalong,flatboxwiththecalllettersJanehadjottedinthenotebook.Itlookedfadedandabitbattered.“Ah,thisisoneoftheoldboxes.Notmuchcallforthesematerials.Weareupdatingall theboxes,butit takestime.”Sheput down the box but lingered. “So. You are studying the works of Tycho Brahe andKepler?”

“Suchafascinatingstory,”Amysaid.

“Yes, you know, Brahe is quite a hero in Prague. His death… for so many years,scholarsthoughthisbladderburst.”

“Excuseme?”Amyasked.

“Youknow,hewasatthisgreatbanquet,anditwassaidhedidn’twanttoberudeandgetupforthebathroom,so…”

AmycouldfeelDanandAtticustryingnottogiggle.

“Wehaveasayingwhenweleavethetableforthebathroom.Wesay‘Idon’twanttopullaBrahe.’”

Dan coughed. It was a strangled sound, as if he was smothering a laugh. Amy feltlaughter bubble up inside her just at the sight ofDan’s red face.This always surprised

Amy,howhilaritycouldsuddenlysweepover themjustwhen thingswereat theirmosttense.

“SowhatexactlyareyoustudyingaboutBrahe?”KatjaMavelasked.

Amyknew thequestionwasn’t a trap.But theyhad toget ridofMavel if theyweregoingtostealthemap.

Jakeclearedhisthroat.“Youknow,myfatherstillremembershisvisitheresofondly,”hesaid.

KatjaMavelblushed.“Irememberhimfondlyaswell—asacolleague.”Shetuckedadarkstrandbehindherear.“Iadmirehiswork.Hisscholarship.Wealldo.Isyourfatherworkingonanotherbook?”

Jakesmiled.“I’dlovetotellyouabitaboutit.IhadalongtrainridefromRome.Iwaswonderingiftherewasanyteaorcoffeeavailable…?”

“Yes, of course.Why don’t you come tomy office… .Would anyone else care forrefreshments?”

“No,thankyou,”Atticussaid.

Jaketookthewoman’sarm.“Myfatherwouldbegladtoknowthatthelibraryisstilldoingsuchimportantwork.”Astheywalkedawayhelookedoverhisshoulderat them.Thelookplainlysaidworkfast.

Amyfeltatwingeofannoyance.Jakecouldsureworkthecharmwhenhehadto.Hemustknowhowgorgeoushewas.Andthatmadehiminsufferable.

“Ready?”Atticusaskedthem.Hishandshoveredoverthebox.

Bitingherlip,Amynodded.

Atticus lifted the lid.Amusty smell invaded the room. Insidewas the leather-boundeditionofMysteriumCosmographicum.

Withthereverenceofascholar,hecarefullyturnedthepages.“It’sinLatin,”hesaid.“MyLatinisprettygood,butIcan’ttranslatetheentirebook.”

“Idon’t thinkJanewantedusto,”Amysaid.“Shehidthemapsomewhereinsidethepages.I’msureofit.”

“Justshakethebook,”Danadvised.“Somethingwillfallout.”

Atticuslookedhorrified.“Shakeasixteenth-centurybook?Icouldn’tdothat.”

“Icould.”

AtticusemittedasqueakasDangrabbedthebookandturneditupsidedown.Nothingfellout.Atticussnatchedthebookbackandhuggedit.

“Dude,it’sabook,notapuppy,”Dansaid.

“Let’sexaminetheendpapers,”Amysaid.

Carefully,Atticusopenedthebookagain.“Nothing in thefront.”Heturned thebookover. “Wait a second… there’s something here. It’s like the book has been repaired. Imean, thatmakessense…it’smore thanfourhundredyearsold….”Hepeeledbackasmallsectionofendpaper.“There’ssomethingunderhere,”hesaidexcitedly.“Ithinkwefoundthemap!”

Cheyenne peeked over her book. Amy and Dan had disappeared into one of the sideroomswiththatskinnykid.Thehunkyteenagerhadgoneintothelibrarydirector’soffice.

Casperlurkedinthestacks.Cheyenneclosedherbookandjoinedhim.

“Themap has got to be here,” Cheyenne said. “We can trail them after they leave.Therearesomedarkalleysbetweenhereandtheirhotel.Iknowyou’relookingforwardtothat.”

“Ihaveabetteridea,andit’sevenmorefun,”Caspersaid.“Wecangetridoftheminonestrokeandstealthemap.”

“Inonestroke?”Cheyenneaskeddoubtfully.

“Onestrokeofamatch.”Casperwavedatthebooksinthestacks.“Thiswillgouplikeatorch.ButIcansetthefiresothatitdoesn’tburndownthewholeplace—though,let’sfaceit,whowouldmissalibrary?”

Cheyennenodded.“Totally.”

“Here’sthebestpart—Icheckedoutthefiresystemintheresearchroomswiththeoldstuff—halon!Sucksall theoxygenoutof the room.Turnsyou intoa fishonadock.”Caspergrabbedhisthroatandmadegaspingnoises.“Thewholeplaceshutsdownwhileweevacuate,ImakesuretheCahillsgetstuckintheroomofnoair,theyturnthesystemsbackon,andwesneakbackinandgrabthemapwhilethedeadbodiesofAmyandDanlookon.Prestochange-o,wearewinners!”

Cheyenne waved at the stacks. “You would destroy thousands of priceless antiquebooksandpapersjusttogetyourhandsonthatmap?”

“Isthatsowrong?”

“Cool,”Cheyennesaid.“I’min.”

Atticus peeled back the last of the endpaper. A parcel was folded flat and wrapped inpaper.Apieceofnotepapersatontop.

“ItmatchesthepaperfromJane’snotebook,”Amymurmured.

Atticusreaditaloudinanervousvoice.

“There’sthatGagain,”Amymurmured.“Grace?”

“No,” Atticus whispered. “Guardian.” He seemed to be in a daze, staring down atJane’snote.

BeforeAmycouldaskhimwhathemeant,Danbrokeinimpatiently.

“C’mon.Let’sseewhattheparcelis.”

“Right.” Atticus unfolded the parcel and spread it on the desk. Amy recognized itimmediately.

“It’sthedeVirga!”sheexclaimed.“Thankyou,Jane!”

“It’samazing,”Atticusbreathed.

ItjustlookedlikeanoldmaptoDan,butheleanedovertostudyit.“What’sthat?”heasked,pointingtoaspot.

“That’sthecompassrose,”Atticusmurmured.“Showsthedirectionofthecompass.It’srightoverCentralAsia.Thedetailonthisthingisamazing.LookatthecoastofAfrica!”

Alightbeganblinkingredovertheirheads.Amylookedupjustasthesirenwentoff.“Great.Whatatimeforafiredrill.”

“We’vegottoconcealthemapsomehow,”Dansaid.

“Waitasecond,”Atticussaid.“Youguysaregoingtostealit?”

“Wehaveto,”Amytoldhim.

“ButJakesaid—”

“NevermindJake.Dan,canyougetitunderyoursweatshirt?”

“Underhissweatshirt?Areyoucrazy?”AtticuscringedasDanfoldedtheparchment.

“Believeme,A,we’vegotagoodreason,”Dantoldhim.

“Atticus,canyougofindJake?”Amyasked.“We’rerightbehindyou.Whateveryoudo,keepMavelawayfromhere.And,um, there’snoneed to tell Jake thatwestole themap.Yet.”

Amycrossedtothewindowinthedoor.Librarypatronspackedupandwereleavinginan orderly fashion. Suddenly, she spotted two tall blond young people. Casper andCheyennestoodinacorner,watching.Whatweretheydoinghere?Herpulsehammeredoutafranticbeat.

“Atticus, Ineedyou togonow,”Amysaid,makingsurehervoicewas level. “We’llexplaineverythingoutside.TellJake…tellhimhehastotrustme.”Notthathewould.

ButAmycouldn’tputAtticusindanger.

AmytookafirmholdofAtticus’sarm.Sheopenedthedoorandgentlyshovedhimout,thenclosedit.

Tohershock,sheheardthelockclick.Theautomaticlockhadengaged.

Atticuspulledfranticallyonthedoor.Amytriedtoopenitfromherside.Itwouldn’tbudge.

Thehalongas!

Shewhippedherheadaroundtospythefirepanel.HALONGASACTIVATED!

OXYGENLEVEL20%

Thiswasnodrill.Thiswasreallyhappening.

Asshewatched,theindicatorbeeped.OXYGENLEVEL19%

Atticustookoffatarun.

“Dan?”Amy’svoiceshook.“Wehaveaproblem.”

“Wesuredo,”Dansaid,adjustinghisshirt.“Thisparchmentisreallyitchy.”OXYGENLEVEL18%

“IjustsawCasperandCheyenneoutside.Thisisn’tadrill!Thehalongassuppressionsystemhasbeenactivated!Andthedoorislocked!”

Danlookedattheoxygenlevel,thenmadearunatthedoor.Hepulledatit.JustthenCasperWyoming’sfaceappearedattheglasspanel.Hewavedandmouthed“Bye-bye.”

Thenhekeptonwalking.

“Atticussawwhathappened,”Amysaid,hervoicetrembling.“He’lldosomething….He’llgetJake!”

“WithCasperandCheyennearound?Don’tcountonit.Wehavetodosomething.”OXYGENLEVEL16%

Amyfeltherpulserace.Wasitthedroppingoxygenlevel,orherownfearrising?

Danbegankickingatthedoor.Amypoundedontheglass.

Therewasnobody tohear.Thebuildinghadbeencompletelyevacuated.Smokewasnowbillowingoutof thestacksat theoppositeendof thewideroom.Amysaworangelicksoffire.

“Wehave todosomething!”Amy’sbreathwasshort.Theeffortofpoundingagainsttheglasshadexhaustedher.Thatwasn’tagoodsign.

“The computer,” she said to Dan. “It’s hooked to the server. You could hack in—disruptthealarm!”

Danhurriedovertothecomputer.OXYGENLEVEL13%

“Wehavetohurry,”Amysaid.“Oxygendepletionaffectsyourbrain.Youcan’tthink….”

“I’dhavetogetpastthefirewall….”

Amy felther templespound. “Whatwas it that thehacker taughtus?Thebackdooroption…youcangetintotheire-mailandgoonfromthere….”

“Iremember,butI’mnoEvan.”

“You’rejustassmartasheis,”Amysaidfirmly.“Youcandoit.”

Danbeganpunchingoutastringofcode.OXYGENLEVEL11%

Lookingoverhisshoulder,AmytriedtoconcentrateonDan’snumbers.Itseemedlikeanincredibleeffort.Danmadeamistakeandhadtobackup.

OXYGENLEVEL9%

“I’min!”Danleanedforward.“NowtogetAtt…Attleboro….”Hisbreathwasquick,andhewipedatthesweatonhisforehead.“I’vegotEvan!”

AmywatchedasDantypedoutHALONGASCZECHLIBRARYSYSTEMHELP

Ittookamoment.ThentheysawthewordsappearI’MONIT

“He’ll…haveto…hackintothesystemthroughthisterminal,”Dansaid.

Amyclutchedthechairbackasawaveofdizzinesswashedoverher.“Dan…”

He lookedoverhis shoulder ather.Perspiration streakedhis face, andhis eyeswereglassy.

OXYGENLEVEL7%

Theywereclosetopassingout.Amysliddowntothefloor.Danslumpeddownnexttoher.Shefelthishandreachforhers.Ifitwasover,they’dgotogether.

Jakewas out. Stretched on the ground, a lump on the back of his head and theworldswimminginfrontofhiseyes.OneminutehewasrunningafterAtticus,thenext,hewasdown. SomeNordic-looking guy had been next to him and suddenlymanaged— Jakewasn’tsurehow—tocheckhimrightintoawall.

He forced himself to his knees. He saw a screamingAtticus being held by a blondyoungwoman.She appeared to be trying to hold himback from running back into theburningbuilding.Butshewasgrip-pinghimtootightly….

Atticusmethisgaze.“DANANDAMY!”hescreamed.

TheblondepressedAtticus’sheadagainstherchestasiftocomforthim.Jakesawwithhorrorthatshewasactuallymufflinghisscream.

Hestruggledtohisfeet.Hehadtogettohisbrother.ButDanandAmywerestillinthelibrary!Throughthepoundingpaininhishead,hepushedforward,evenbeforeheknewwhichwaytogo.

Amyfeltsick.

Dan’svoicewasweak.“He’ll…doit….”

Shelookedoverattheoxygenindicator.OXYGENLEVEL6%

Thesirenstopped.Fromsomewherefarawaysheheardaclick.Thelock!

Fighting her nausea andweakness,Amy crawled to the door and reached up for theknob.Itseemedsoimpossiblyhigh.Herfingersgrabbedatair.Finally,withanenormouseffort,sheraisedherselfupandgrippedit.Thedoorfeltasheavyasiron.Sheyankedatitwithallherstrength,anditopened.

Shefellforwardintothehallwayoutside.Shetookabreath.Itwassmokyanditmadehercough,butitwasair.Asoxygenfilledherlungs,shefeltstronger.

ShemadeherwayunsteadilybacktoDan.Hewashalfconscious.Sheliftedhimtohisfeetandhalfdraggedhimoutthedoor.

Heleanedover,coughing,takingshallowbreaths.

Theystumbleddownthecorridor.Twofiremenappearedattheendofthehall.AssoonastheysawAmyandDanstrugglingtowalk,theyrushedforward.

Amyfeltherselfbeingliftedupandcradledlikeababy.Coughing,shewascarriedoutthedoor.Theairfeltsopureandsweet.

ShesawJakepushingthroughthecrowdtowardthem,Atticusathisside.And,offtothe side, the tall Wyoming twins walked rapidly toward the tram stop. Cheyenne waslimping.

Amyfelt too tired tocare.Shewas laiddownonapatchofcold stoneand it felt asluxuriousasabed.Anemergencytechniciancheckedheroverandputanoxygenmaskonherface.

“Isshegoingtobeokay?”Jakeasked.Hisconcernedfaceswaminfrontofher.

“She’llbefine,”thetechnicianassuredhim.

AtticushoverednearDan,almostintears.

Danliftedonehandslowly,pattedhischest,andgaveAmyanod.Hehadthemap.

Rome,Italy

WilliamMcIntyresatinhishotelroominRome,filefoldersstackedtooneside.Hetriednot to thinkaboutwhat time itwas inMassachusetts. Jet lag lastedwholedays forhimnow.Hisbodyfelt tired,butheneededtopushhimselfalittlelongerbeforeheallowedhimselftorest.

AmyandDanwereonhismind.Hehad theutmostconfidence in theirabilities,butthatdidn’tmeanhedidn’tworryconstantly.Hehadn’timaginedanythingcouldbemorechallenginganddifficultthanthesearchfortheClues,butthiswasprovingtobeso.Liveswere at stake. And Vesper One … the fact that he could engineer this scheme, withhostagestakenfromallovertheworld…withkidnappingaboyoftwelve…well,thiswasanewlevelofdepravity.

He had confidence in all of them, not just Amy and Dan— Erasmus, Sinead, Ian,Hamilton,Jonah—eventhatboyfriendofAmy’shadturnedouttobeaworthymemberoftheteam.

Ifonlyhedidn’tfeelasthoughtheyweremissingsomething.

Somethingcrucial.

He had come toRome tomeetwithErasmus, but first, he needed to consultwith aclient.Thatlittlethingthatwasnaggingathim—heneededtodigalittledeeper.Buttheclientmeetinghadn’tpannedout.Allhewasabletogetwasastackofoldfiles.

McIntyre slipped the first folderoff the stackandopened it.Hebegan to read inhisusualcarefulfashion.Afterplowingthroughathirdofthestack,hesuddenlystraightenedandbegantoreadmoreintently.

Hepausedtokickoffhisshoesandordercoffeeandsandwichesfromroomservice.Hemoved to thecouch inorder tospreadout.Heputsomedocumentson thecoffee table,separatingthemintopiles.

Itwaswithdawninghorrorthatherealizedthathisinstinctswereright.

Whyhadn’theseentheseconnectionsbefore?Hehadbeensuchafool.

AmyandDanwereingreaterdangerthanhethought.

HejumpeduptoretrievehissecurecellphonetocallAttleboro,buttherewasaknockatthedoor.

“Roomservice,signore.”

Of course, the sandwiches. That was fast. He couldn’t imagine eating now, but hecalled,“Entrare—comein.”

McIntyre kept his gaze on the paper he was reading. “Just put it on the desk, perfavore.”

Hestoodtosignthebill.ThewaiterhadhisbacktoMcIntyreasheputdownthetray.

McIntyrehadexactlythreesecondstonoticeseveralthings.Waterglassnotquitefull.Napkinfoldedimprecisely.Smearofbutteronthemetaldomecoveringtheplate.

Hemadetheconclusionwithequalspeed.Someonehadpickedupausedtrayfromthehallwayandthentriedtomakeitlookfresh.

Hehadonlyafewmoresecondstoreact.Withoneglanceatthewaiterheknewhewasinnoshapetotakehimon.Hewouldgodownfighting,butthebesthecoulddowasleavesomethingbehind.

Behindhisback,hecrumpledthepaper.Thenheleaneddownasifforhiswalletandstuffedthepaperinhisemptyshoe.

Thewaiterturned,andMcIntyresawhisfaceforthefirsttime.

Fora longsecond, the two just staredateachother.Then the intruder rushed towardhim.

“It’syou!”McIntyregasped.

Theneedlesankintohisneck.

ThesmileonthefacefromthepastwasthelastthingMcIntyresawbeforehiskneesgaveway.

ThefiremeninsistedthatAmyandDangetcheckedoutatthehospital,buttheyrefused.KatjaMaveleitherfelttotallyguiltyortotallyresponsibleandafraidtogetsued,becausesheofferedtotakethemtoherowndoctor.“Buttheyweresignedout!”shekepttellingthefiremen,wringingherhands.

IntheendAmyprevailed,promisingatthefirstsignofweaknessordiscomforttoheadforadoctor.Theywerefeelingfine,she toldeveryoneearnestly.Shewasanxious tobegone.Herbrotherhadastolenmapunderneathhisshirt.

“Youshouldcomewithus,”Atticusurged.“We’restayingwiththisprofessor,afriendofourfather’s.Theapartmentgoesonformiles—weevenhaveourownsittingroom.Hewon’tmindifyoustay,Iguaranteeit.”

Amyglanced at Jake. “Sure,” he said flatly. “You can fill us in onwhy somebody’strying to kill you. And who those blond thugs were, and why they targeted me andAtticus.”

“Isawthemleaving,”Amysaid.“Thegirlwaslimping.”

“Sheneededa littlepersuasion to letmybrothergo,”Jakesaid.“Any ideawhy theywerethere?”

Amydidn’tsayanything.Sheknewthey’dhave tospill somedetails,butshewasn’tsurehowmuchtotell.TheyneededthehelpoftheRosenbloomsrightnow.Soon,VesperOnewoulddemandthetransfer.Beforetheygaveupthemap, theyhadtofigureout itsconnectiontoIlMilione.

As they trudged to the apartment, Amy dropped back, letting the three boys walktogether. She took amoment to text back toAttleboro. She needed advice.Who betterthanSinead?ShetotallytrustedSinead’scoolheadedopiniononthings.

WEAREFINE.HAVEMAP.JAKEANDATTICUSHEREINPRAGUE.THEYDEMANDANSWERS.THEYGOTUSINTOLIBRARYANDCANBEHELPFULWMAPANDMILIONE.THINKWENEEDTOCONFIDESOMEDETAILSABOUTVESPERS,HOSTAGES,ETC.

ASKERASMUSANDMCINTYREABOUTGUARDIANS.

Inafewminutes,Sineadtextedback:

NO INFORMATION ON GUARDIANS FM ERASMUS. MCINTYRE NOT ANSWERING. BEWARE.ROSENBLOOMBROTHERSTURNEDYOUINONCE.WOULDDOITAGAIN.STRONGLYADVISENO.

Amyslippedthephonebackinherpocket,feelingstrangelydisappointed.ShefelttheyowedJakeandAtticusmoreofanexplanation.AndshesensedthatAtticushadmoretotellthem.ButmaybeSineadwasright.Certainly,Jakehadturnedtheminoncebefore.Hecoulddo it again.Hecouldbe lying to themrightnow.The twoboyscouldbe leadingthemstraighttoInterpol.

As Jake and Atticus reached a busy street corner, Jake put his hand on Atticus’sshoulder for an instant.Atticuswas sobusy talkinghewouldhaveblundered right intotraffic.Amystudiedthattouch.Itwasbrief,sothatAtticuswouldn’tfeeldirectedbyhisbig brother, but it was caring. She remembered the sight of Jake pushing through thecrowd, trying to get to them, standing over her, making sure she was okay. He tookresponsibilityforthings,shecouldtell.

Just thewayJakefelt responsibleforIlMilione.Because, inadifferentworld,undernormalcircumstances,Amywouldhavefeltthesameway.

Okay,shethoughtgrudgingly,I’llgivehimthat.Hecares.

Maybesheshouldn’thavekickedhimquitesohard.

The apartment took up two floors of a grand building close to Old Town Square.Everything seemed to be upholstered in leather or velvet, andAmy had never seen somanytasselsandtrimmings—oncurtains,onchairs,onsofas.Bookswerepiledinshortcolumnseverywhereandusedas tables foranassortmentofabandoned teacups.At thishour,itwasstillandquiet.

UntilJakeheardthenews.

“Youstolethemap?”Jakeaskedfuriously.

“Wecanexplain—”Amystarted.

“Doyourealizethatyou’veimplicatedmybrotherinyourcrime?Andme?”

“I’msorry,thatwasunavoidable.Thefirealarm—”

“Yousaidyouwereonlygoingtolookatit.”

“No,actually,that’swhatyousaid,”Amycorrected.

“She’sright,Jake,”Atticussaid.

Jakewheeled onAtticus. “And you!How could you get involved in something likethis?”

Atticus tookabreathandfacedhisbrother.“Because I’maGuardian,”hesaid.“I’minvolvedwhetherIlikeitornot.”

“What’saGuardian?”Danasked.

Jakeheldhishead.“Notthiswackofairy-talestuffagain.”

“It’snotafairytale!”Atticuscried.“Iknowthatnow.MomtoldmeIwasaGuardian.Ididn’tknowwhatshemeant.Istilldon’t.ButIthinkmygreat-grandmotherwasone,too.”Atticuslookedatthem,vulnerableandscared.“Doyouknowwhatitmeans?”

“No.Canyoutelluswhatshesaid?”Amyasked.

“IrememberthatshetalkedabouttheGuardiansrightbeforeshegotsick.Shesaiditwasastoryhermothertoldher,onlysheneverbelievedit.Thattherewasthisgroupthatprotectedsomethingoverthecenturies.Morethanonething.Theymovedstufffromplacetoplaceuntiltheyfoundthesafestspot.Mymomthoughtitwasamade-upstory.Butthenshemetsomeonewhotoldheritwastrue.Shedidn’tbelieveher,either.ButthispersonsaidthattheGuardiansandtheMadrigalsweresortofpartners.AndthattheVesperswereourenemies.”

“Grace,”Amysaid.“That’swhyyourmothercalledforherinthehospital.Graceis—was—ourgrandmother.”

“Ofcourse!”Atticuscried.“BecauseMomsuggestedI join thisonlinegaminggroupandlookforthisguynamedCahill.Shesaidshe’dmethisgrandmotheronceandthoughtwe’dhititoff.AndIthoughtyouwerereallycool,sowebecamefriends.Notbecauseofher,butbecause…”Atticus’svoicefalteredasheadded,“Becauseyoulikedme.”

Danheldouthisfistforabump.“Youareblowingmymind,dude.”

Meanwhile, Jake stood a fewpaces away, his arms folded.Amy triednot to squirm.Whenevershefelthiseyesonher,shegrewannoyed.Hecouldn’tjustglanceataperson.Hehad to read theperson, as thoughhewaswaiting forher tomakeamistakeorpullsomethingoveronhim.

“Listen, MissMysterioso, it’s time we heard some answers.We’re not going to goanotherstep forward ifyoudon’t telluswhatyou’re involved in.Whatexactlydidyoumeanaboutlivesbeingatstake?YouandDanalmostsuffocated.Thatwasn’taccidental.Somebody isafteryou.Whois it?Whoare theVespers?Whatdo theyhave todowithyou?”

Theywerefacingeachotheracrosstheroom,bothofthemwiththeirarmscrossed.

“I’mafraidtotellyou,”Amysaid.

Jake’s stern expression relaxed for amoment. “Did you ever think,” he said slowly,“thatwecouldhelp?”

Here itwas— themomentAmyknewwas coming.And shewasn’t in the least bitprepared.Sineadhadtoldhernottotrustthem.ButSineadwasn’tinthisroom.

She remembered Jake’s hand on Atticus’s shoulder. She remembered him sayingBecauseitwastherightthingtodo.Shefeltsomethingoddinsinuateitselfinsideher.Shestilldidn’tlikehim.Butshetrustedhim.Hewasoneofthegoodguys—shecouldfeelit.

She looked at her brother. They had a moment of pure communication, the thingbetweenthemthatthey’dcountedonduringthehuntfortheClues.Thereweresomanytimesthattheytrustedtheirinstincts,ignoredwhattheyshoulddoandproceededtotakeadifferentway.Ithadworkedout.Usually.

Yes,Dan’sgazewassaying,wecantrustthem.Wehaveto.

“Tellingyouwhat’sgoingoncouldendangeryou,”Amysaidhesitantly.“Iknowthatsoundswaydramatic,butit’strue.”

“We’realreadyinuptoournecks,”Jakesaid.

Amytookabreath.Therewassomuchtosay,butshedidn’thavetosayitallyet.“TheVespersareagroupthat’sbeeninexistenceforhundredsofyears—sincethesixteenthcentury.It’sasecretorganziation,anditsmembersarerecruited.Sowedon’tknowanyidentities—well,weknowtwo.Thetwinswhowereatthelibrary.Andyourmother…Shewasrightaboutthering.They’reafterit.It’snotmagic,ofcourse,butwedon’tknowwhytheywantit.”

“Wait,holdonasecond.Who’swe?”Jakeasked.

AmyandDandidn’tsayanything.Theycouldn’t justblurtoutasecret thathadbeenkeptforhundredsofyears.

Buttheydidn’thaveto.

“You’reMadrigals,”Atticusguessed.“Thatstoryistrue,too.”

“Sevenpeoplefromourfamilyhavebeenkidnapped,”Dansaid.“Wealmostwere,too.Andthenweget thisphonewithatextonitfromthisdudecalledVesperOne.Hesaysthatifwedon’tfollowhisinstructions,he’llkillthem.”

“Areyousurehe’sserious?”Jakeasked.

“Heshotoneofthem,”Amysaid.“Intheshoulder.Sheseemsokay,but…”Shetookashakybreathtocomposeherself.“Soyeah,he’sserious.”

JakekepthisgazeonAmy.“Arethepeopletheykidnapped…areyouclosetothem?”

Amyfelthereyessting.Shewilledherselfnottocry.Sheliftedherchinandtensedherwholebodysoitwouldn’thappen.Shecouldn’tappearweakinfrontofJake.“We’lldoanythingtogetthemback.”

She’d done everything to show him strength, but somehow, she sensed, he saw hervulnerabilityinstead.Heclearedhisthroatandlookedoutthewindow.

DangothiscomputeroutofhisbackpackandthenreachedforIlMilione.“Okay,gang.It’stimetogetthejumponVesperOne.”

“‘For to theworldIwasaTraveler,butonceon theroadIstopped in thegreatandsplendidCity.ThereItookonthetask,Guardian,ofwhatwasentrustedtometokeep.

“‘Menstealandkill,theyhideandconceal,andthegreatTaskforusistoburywhatshouldbeburiedanddonotmourn,foritisbetterso.’”

Atticus read thewords out loud.Thenhe pushedhis glasses uponhis forehead andrubbedhiseyes.He’dfoundadictionaryofOldFrenchin theprofessor’s library,andithadtakenhimawhiletotranslatetheepilogue.

“It’skindofrough,”Atticussaid.“MyOldFrenchisn’tasgoodasmyLatin.”

“Areyousurethetranslationiscorrect?”Jakeasked.

“Whoareyoutalkingto?”Atticusasked,insulted.“Ofcourseit’scorrect.”

“‘ThegreatandsplendidCity’…theremusthavebeenafewontheSilkRoad,”Amysaid.

“What’sthat?”Danasked.

“Itwasanoldtradingroute,”Jakesaid.“Itwasn’tcalledtheSilkRoadbackthen.”

“Thetermdidn’tcomeintouseuntilmaybethelatenineteenthcentury,”Atticusputin.“IbelieveitwasaGermantermatfirst?”

“Uh,smartdudes?Thisisn’tJeopardy!”Dansaid.“Canyoujustgivemeasummary?”

“TradingroutesthroughAsia,”Jakesaid,studyingthedeVirgamap.“Look,thewindroseisrightinCentralAsia.”

“Ithoughtitwascalledthecompassrose,”Amysaid.

“Same thing.”Without touching themap, Jakepassedhis fingerover the expanseofterritory. “Four thousand miles or thereabouts, from the Mediterranean to China. ThatincludespartsofTurkey,Uzbekistan,India,Persia,Afghanistan…that’salotofterritory.Maybethiswillmakesenseifwelookupsomefactsaboutcitiesalongtheroute.”

“Let’slookatJane’snoteagain,”Dansuggested.

“ThemurderermustbeKepler,”Jakesaid.“Andthegenius?”

“Leonardo,”Amysaid.“HisshieldwasconcealingIlMilioneattheColosseum.”

“Thecityofstars,”Dansaid.“WhatdoyouthinkJanemeant?CoulditbethegreatandsplendidcitythatMarcoPolotalksabout?He’sthetraveler,right?”

AtticuswasstillconsultingIlMilione.“Wait,there’sacouplemoresentences.”Hebentoverthebookagain.Inonlyafewminutes,heputdownhispencil.

“That’sextreme,”Dansaid.“Thefateofthewholeworld?Exaggeratemuch?”

AmynoticedAtticus’slookofdistress.“Whatisit?”sheasked.

“‘Thefateoftheworldisinourhands,’”Atticussaid.“That’sjustwhatmymothertoldme.Thenightshedied.”

They all exchanged glances. This time, Dan stayed silent, and Jake didn’t scoff. Itseemedsocrazy…thefateoftheworld.Butsuddenly,itseemedsoreal.

Danwokeupwithhisfaceplantedinapileofpapers.Hehadbeendreamingabout thewind.Hepushedhimselfup,yawningandrubbingtheindentationsofballed-uppaperonhischeek.Theothershadconkedout,too—Jakeinadeeparmchair,andAtticusontheflooronapileofquilts.Amywasasleeponthevelvetsofa,herarmsoverherhead,asifprotectingherself.

Thewindrattledtheoldpanesofthewindowsandseemedtomaketheentirebuildingcreakwithunease.

Andthewindroseandpushedthetraveler…

Dansuddenlyfeltwide-awake.

“Look,thewindroseisrightinCentralAsia.”

“Ithoughtitwascalledthecompassrose.”

“Samething.”

Janehadbeentalkingaboutthewindroseonthemap!

Dan’shandswereshakingashereachedforthecomputer.Hetypedawordstringintoasearchengine.

windrosedeVirgamap

Andthewordpoppedup:Samarkand

Heclickedonthelink.ItwasadescriptionofthedeVirgamap.Itsaidthatthewindrosewas inCentralAsia, “most likely over the city of Samarkand,whereUlughBeg’sobservatoryoncestood.”

Observatory?Thecityofstars.Janehadpointedtheminthesamedirection!

Ithadbeenthereallalong,anditwasallsomucheasierthanhe’dimagined!AsthoughSamarkandwasthemagicwordthatunlockedeveryclue.

Dandidanotherquickwordsearch.Thegreatandsplendidcity—thosewereMarcoPolo’sownwords,andtheydescribedSamarkand.BuriedinthetextofIlMilione…butreadilypoppedupona searchengine.Dan’s fingers flewon thekeys.So thiswaswhyAmygot all excitedwhen she researched! Piece after piece, falling into his hands, andtheyallmadeapicture.

Samarkandwastheclue.Andiftheycouldgettherefirst…maybetheycouldhaveabargainingchip.

DancreptovertowhereAmylaysleeping.Heputhishandonherarmandhereyelidssprangopen.

“Samarkand,”hewhispered.“That’swhathewants.IfyouputthemaptogetherwithMarcoPolo,that’swhatyouget.Thewindroseisrightoverthecity.”

“What?”Amywaswide-awakeimmediately.“Letmesee.”

He showedherhisprocess, fromputting togetherwindrosewith the clues inMarcoPolo’slostepilogueandJane’shints.

“Ithinkyou’reright,”Amywhisperedslowly.“Thisissuchgoodwork,Dan!”

Danfeltaglowathissister’spraise.Hewasknownforhisphotographicmemory. ItwasAmywhocouldtakerandominformationandformitintoatheory.Buttonight,he’dnotonlyrememberedthings,he’dputthemtogether.

JustthentheVespersmartphonebuzzedbyAmy’sside.Sheaccessedthemessageandturnedthephonesothattheybothcouldreadit.

Here’s your alarm clock, and it’s ticking! Meet me at the AstronomicalClockatsixa.m.Whentheskeletonpullstherope,leavethepacketatthefeetofJanHus.Anddon’tlookback!

“He’sgoingtobetherehimself,”Dansaid.“Hesaid‘meetme.’”

“It’stwentytosix.Wehavetogetmoving.”

“Where?Whatishetalkingabout,theskeletonpullingtherope?Who’sJanHus?”

Amyputafingertoherlips.“Shhh.Don’twakeAtticusandJake.”Shegrabbedforhershoes. “TheAstronomicalClock is right inOldTownSquare— it’soneof thebiggesttourist destinations in Prague. At the top of the hour, these mechanical carved figurescomeout inaprocession—butfirst,askeletonontheclockpullsarope.TheJanHusmonument is there, too.Wepassed throughpart of the squareon thewayhere, doyouremember?It’sabouttenminutesaway.”

“Thatdoesn’tgiveusmuchtime.”Danreachedforhisshoes.

AmyslippedthedeVirgamapintoherpack.“Let’sgo.”

Fogshroudedthedarkcity.Itwasstilldark.Thesunwouldn’triseuntilaftersevenA.M.Noonewasonthecobbledstreets.Amyhadmappedouttherouteandtheyslippeddownthealley,madearightonanavenue,andcontinuedtowardthesquare,runningasthoughaclockwastickingintheirheads.Occasionally,theywouldseeanotherfigureinthefog,anearlyriserheadingforwork,someonewalkingasmalldog.

Astheyapproachedthesquaretheirstepsslowed.Theyhadmadeit.Nowtheswirlingfogenvelopedthem,magnifyingeverysound.

“Doyouhearthat?”Danwhispered.“Footstepsbehindus.”

Amycouldhearthemnow,thequickstepsofsomeoneonthecobblestones.

Theypickeduptheirpaceagain.ThemonumenttoJanHuswasadarkshapethattheyscootedpasttoruntotheTownHall,wheretheclockwaslocated.Itrosesuddenlyoutofthegraymist.Amycheckedthetimeonherwatch.Oneminutetosix.

There were other people on the square. It was large and open, with restaurants andshopsliningit,sotherewerepeoplecomingintowork.Theycouldhearthefootstepsandoccasionally thesoundofamurmuredconversation.But the fog isolated themandkeptthemapart,staringupattheclock.

Wasthefoglifting?Thethreadsweretwiningaroundtheclocktower.Theycouldjustmakeout theskeleton.Aropewas in itshand.Astheywatched, theskeletonpulled therope.Theclockbegantochime.Doorsflickedopeninthetower,andcarvedfiguresbegantomovejerkilyforward.

“Now,”Danmurmured.

Theyturnedtowardthemonument.Thefoggavethemgreatcover.Danjumpedoverthechain.

Amyquicklyscannedthesquare.Awhite-paneledbakerytruckwasunloadingtraysofbread.Awaiterwhistledashesetouttables.Anoldwomansatatatablewithacupofcoffeeandaglassofice.Amotherwalkedbythetables,holdingthehandofasmallchild.Noonewaslookingatthem.

DanhoistedhimselfupoverthebaseandplacedthepacketatthefeetofJanHus.

“Dan!Amy!”

Thevoiceseemedamplifiedthroughthefog.AmystartedasshesawAtticusrunningattopspeedacrossthesquaretowardthem.

Timeseemedtoslowdown.Andyet,everythinghappenedsofast.

Sheheardthesquealoftires.Whenshelookedup,shesawthebakerytruckcareeningacross the square.Atticuswas still running toward them,on a collision coursewith thetruck.

“ATTICUS!”shescreamed.

Thetrucksquealedtoahalt.

Atticusbentover,handsonhisknees,catchinghisbreath.

Amy’s handwas on her heart. She could feel the pounding, hard and fast. She hadexpectedtoseethetruckhittheskinnybody,senditflying.

Thedriverstayedatthewheel.ThepassengergotoutandcrossedtoAtticuswithquicksteps,asthoughtoensurethathewasallright.Thensherecognizedthefigureinthelong

whiteapron.

ItwasCasperWyoming.

“ATTICUS!”Amyscreamedagain.

She sprinted across the square, across the uneven paving stones. All her months ofcross-countrytrainingpaidoff.Shedidn’tstumble.

Atticus lifted his head, confused, asCasper grabbed his arm, twisted it back behindhim,pickedhimup,andtossedhiminthebackofthetruck.

“NO!”Amyscreamedassheran.

Dansuddenlyappearedonherleft.Hehadvaultedoverthemonument,makingbettertime.Inalastburstofspeed,hethrewhimselfatCasper.

CaspersenthiselbowstraightintoDan’sthroat.Danflewbackwardthroughtheair,hisheadstrikingthepavingstoneswithathudthatsentpanicshootingthroughAmy.

Thebakeryvandoorslammed.

Sobbing,AmyreachedDan.Shecrashedtoherknees.

“Dan!”

Hewasoutcold.Shepressedhercoldfingersagainsthispulse.Itskitteredagainstherhand.“Dan!”

Shelookedupastheredtaillightsdisappearedintothefog.“ATTICUS!”shescreamed.

Atticuscouldsmellbreadandmotoroil,anditmadehimsick.Thetruckjouncedovertheunevenroad,slowingdownnow,whichdidn’tmakethejoltsanyeasieronhishead.

Whenhe’dseenmoviesabout things like this,he’dalways imaginedhowhe’dreact.Usinghisrazor-sharpreflexesandboundlesscourage,he’dpullasurprisemoveanduseapenciltostabhisabductor.Orhe’dleapoutoftheway,jumpontotheroofofapassingcar,andescape.

Instead, he’d been picked up like a trussed chicken and tossed on a pile of bread.Beforehecouldevencryout,agagwasstuckinhismouth,andthenhe’dbeenshovedinasackwithhishandstiedbehindhisback.

Andhewasterrified.Maybecouragewasn’tonhislistofattributesafterall.

Hedidn’twanttobeaGuardian.Hedidn’twanttoknowthethingshismotherhadtoldhim.Hedidn’twantanyofthis.Hewasaphysicalcoward.EvenFerriswheelsmadehimsick.Hecouldn’tdothis!

Therewasonechance.Onetinychance.IfJakewouldonlythinkofit.

Onetinychancetofindhim.

AmyandDansatonabenchatthemonument.

ThedeVirgawas gone.Sowas IlMilione. It had been taken fromAmy’s backpackwhilesherantosaveAtticus.

Amytriedtocatchherbreath.Herheadwhirled,andshefeltdizzyandcold.

Whenherphonebuzzed,shepickeditupwithdreadinherheart.

Naughty, naughty. You had Il Milione all this time. You really shouldn’tkeepsecretsfromme.Yourpunishmentthistime:AGuardiangoesdown.

“That message that Hamilton saw on Cheyenne’s phone,” Amy said. “‘G is in thepicture.Couldneedremoval.’Whydidn’twerealizethatAtticuscouldbeindanger!Themessagewasabouthim!”

“Wedidn’tknowhewasaGuardianthen,”Dansaid.“Andthenthingswerehappeningsofast….”

“TheVesperswillkillhim,Dan!”Amyheldherheadandrockedbackandforth.

JustthentheysawJakestrideintothesquare.Hescannedthespace,andreliefcrossedhisfacewhenhesawthem.

AmyandDanstooduptofacehimashecameforward.

TearsrandownAmy’scheeks.“I’msosorry,”shesaid.

Rome,Italy

Erasmus stood inMcIntyre’s hotel room.He had dealtwith the shock.The grief couldwait.Griefwouldcloudhismind,andheneededtobeclear.

McIntyrelaysprawledacrossthecouch.Aroomservicetraysatonthedeskwiththeremains of a meal. Erasmus lifted the metal dome over the plate and sniffed. Shrimp.McIntyrewasallergictoshrimp.

He pieced together the scenario. McIntyre had ordered room service and then theassailanthadposedasawaiter.Pickedupanyrandomtrayfromthehallway,wherepeopleoftenputtheminsteadofcallingforpickup.Thenafterhewasfinishedhere,he’dcalledtocanceltheorderfromthephone,sonoonewouldcometotheroomuntilmorning.

Erasmuscheckedthereceiver.Ithadbeenwipedclean.

McIntyrehadbeenworking.Hisbriefcasewasopen,andfileswereneatlystackedonthecoffeetable.Erasmus’sglovedfingersflippedthroughthemquickly.Clientfiles,noneofthemseemingimportant.Hefiledthenamesawayinhismemoryjustincase.

McIntyrewasdressedinpantsandashirtandtie,butinhisstockingfeet.

Thingshadbeentaken.ErasmusknewMcIntyrewasold-fashioned.Healwaystraveledwithayellowlegalpad.Gone.Hisfavoritepen,agiftfromGracethatalsohappenedtocontainavoicerecorderforhisnotes.Gone.

Nothing to see.AndyetErasmus lingered.Somethingwasnaggingathim.McIntyrehadmostlikelybeenworkingatthecouch.He’dslippedoffhisshoestogetcomfortable,loosened his tie.Thewaiter had come inwith the tray. PerhapsMcIntyre had not evenlookedup.Andwhenhisguardwasdown—maybewhenhewassigningthebill—thewaiterhadstruck.

McIntyrehadbeenstanding.Erasmuscouldtellthisbythepositionofthebody.He’dfallenbackonthecouch.Maybehe’dhadonlyseconds.Onearmheldclosetohisbody,onearmfloppedoffthecouchandresting,oddly,inhisshoe.

Erasmuscrossed the room.Hesquattedby theshoe.Heknewhewasn’t supposed totouchanything.HehadgreatrespectfortheItalianpolice.Hedidn’twanttointerferewiththeirinvestigation.Butthehandontheshoe.Thefingerswereballedintoafist,exceptfortheindexfinger.AsthoughMcIntyrewerepointing.

Gently,Erasmuspulledtheshoetowardhim.Hereachedinsideandfeltthecrackleofpaper.Heslippeditout.

Foralongmomenthecouldn’tmakesenseofit,becauseitmadenosense.

A list of cities. Then, just notes, random ones, written in pencil. He saw the wordsGuardiansandPompeii.

Noiseinthehallway.Timetogo.

He placed the paper in the hidden pocket inside his motorcycle jacket. He stoodquickly,readytogo.HisgazerestedonMcIntyre.

No,no…thisisnotthetimeforgrief!

Hepushedtheswellofemotionback,slippedonhistintedglasses.

“Good-bye,oldfriend,”hemurmured.“Restinpeace.”Hisvoicebroke,andheletthetearsfallatlast.

Dansankbackdownonthecobblestones,hisheadbetweenhisknees.Hehadn’ttoldAmythetruth.Hewasmorethanshakenup.Hisheadhurtbadly.

He could hearAmy’s voice explaining, talking, promising Jake that theywould findAtticus,thatshe’ddiebeforesheletanythinghappentohim.Jakelookedasthoughhe’dbeenstruckandwasabouttofalldown.

Thelightwasslowlycomingup,theblackssmudgingtograys.Theywouldgetthecall,orthetext,anditwouldtellthemofanotherdeath.

Atticus.

Vesper One had been right here. He had taken themap and IlMilione. If Dan hadturned,hecouldhaveseenhim.

Theserumwastheonlythingthatcouldhelphimnow.Theonlythingthatcouldfightthiswaspower.Morepowerthantheworldhadeverknown.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He didn’t want to see the questions fromAttleboroonthatphone.Hedidn’twanttogivetheanswers.

Heslippeditoutofhispocket.Thenumberwasblocked.

Suspendjudgment.Thewholestoryisalwaysmorecomplexthanitsparts.Wait.AJT

Danalmostdroppedthephone.Hereadthemessageagain.HereachedoutandtouchedthelettersAJT.

ArthurJosiahTrent.

Whathehadhopedforaslongashehadamemoryhadhappened.He’dgottenasign.

Hisfatherwasstillalive.

SneakPeek

The race to stop theVespers continueswithmore dangerous heists to perform, historictreasurestofind,andhiddentraitorstounmask.StayonestepaheadofyourenemyandhelpsavethekidnappedCahillsbyfollowingAmyandDan’snextadventure.

Turnthepageforasneakpeek!(JustkeepyoureyespeeledforVesperspies…)

Inallhiselevenyears,AtticusRosenbloomneverimaginedhe’ddieonabedoffreshrollsandstickybuns.

Ofcourse,heneverimaginedbeingtiedup,shovedintoasack,thrownintothebackofabakerytruck,andtakenonahigh-speedtourovereverypotholeintheCzechRepublic,either.IfheneededanyproofthathangingoutwithAmyandDanCahillwastrouble,thiswasit.

“Wohogashamee?” he shouted. Itwas the best he couldmanage for “Where are youguystakingme?”withabandannapulledacrosshismouth.

Itwasnouse.Theycouldn’thearhim.

Hefoughtbackdesperatetears.Thishadtobeamistake.Theymusthavewantedsomeothernerdykidwithdreads,aplaidshirt,andbeat-upVans.

Hejerkedhisbodyleftandright,tryingtoloosentheropesaroundhiswrists.Hisheadbanged against a row ofmetal shelves.Breads and pastries cascaded to the floor, theirsweet,yeastysmellseemingtomockhim.

“Carefulwiththecrullers,willyou?”cameatauntfromthefrontseat.“Wemayneedthemontheflight.”

Atticusfroze.Heknewthevoice.

His brain, which had absorbed eleven languages already, did not forget distinctivesounds.Ornear-deathexperiences.Likeyesterday’s,whenDanandAmylaytrappedinalocked, burning library.Atticus and his half brother, Jake, had tried to help, only to beattackedbyawomanandaguydressedinblack.

Aguywiththesamevoiceasthiscruller-lovingkidnapper.

Dansaidtheywerekillers.Twins.Vespers.

Suddenly,thewholethingwasmakingsomeawfulsense.

HeknewDanandAmywereMadrigals,theelitebranchoftheworld’smostpowerfulfamily, the Cahills. The Vespers were bad guys who had kidnapped seven Cahills. Asransom,Dan andAmy had to perform nasty tasks— breaking intomuseums, stealingancient artifacts, solving impossible codes.Which theywere capable of doing, becausethey’dfoundsomethingequallyimpossiblecalledthe39Clues.

SowhydidtheVespersgasDanandAmyinalibrary?Andwhydotheywantme?

Nuts.Thewholethingwasnuts!

The truck veered abruptly to the right. Atticus slid on a layer of raspberry jam andbangedagainstthereardoor.

Ashescreamedinpain,thetruckcametoasuddenstop.Thedooropenedandapairofhands untied his sack. In amoment,Atticuswas squinting against the sudden sunlight.Thewhooshofajetenginenearlyknockedhimover.

“Sorryforthebumpyride,”hisabductorsaid,yankingthegagoutofhismouth.“Thenextwillbesmoother.”

Atticus’s eyes quickly adjusted. The guywasmaybe in his twenties.He looked likehe’dwanderedoffthesetofamagazineshootforTravel+Leisure—blond,blue-eyed,tanned, and buff.Atticus could feel the rope being untied from his hands and replacedwithahandcuffononewristbehindhim.Asilkyfemalevoiceadded,“Howmanyboysyouragecansaythey’vebeenonaprivatejet—forfree?”

“I’m not a boy!”Atticus blurted, thewords spilling out of hismouth faster than hecould think. “Okay, chronologically, yes, eleven years old fits the definition, but inactuality,I’macollegefreshman.Soifyou’relookingforaboy,you’vemadeamistake!”

Thewomancamearoundtohisside,herwristnowcuffedtohis.“Justbecausewe’reholdinghands,collegeboy,don’tgetanyideas.”

Atticusrecoiledfromherclammygrip.Shewasunmistakablythisguy’stwin,butwiththeblondnesscrankeduptoeleven.Herbaker’suniformhadextra-longsleevestohidethehandcuffsfromsight.

“Wedon’tmakemistakes,Atticus,”theguysaid.“Weknowyouwonthecountyfifth-gradechesschampionship,andthestatespellingbeeonthewordrenaissance.Bytheway,Ialwayshadtroublewiththatword—”

“LetmegorightnoworI’llscreambloodymurder!”Atticusshouted.

ThemangrabbedAtticusbytheshirtcollar.“Ifyouscream,littledude, therewillbebloodymurder.Andwiththatonehundredseventy-fiveIQ,you’retoosmarttoputyourbrotherandfatherindanger.”

Atticustriednottopanic.Thebitsofknowledge—thecrueltaunts—werelikepricksofatinyknifeblade,keepinghimoffbalance.

The man looked away briefly, checking his reflection in the window of a tan-brickbuildingnearby.Heranhisfingerscarefullythroughhishair.“Youbabysit,Cheyenne.I’llrunaheadtoseethatthejet’sready.”

“Make itquick,Casper,”hissister said,pushingAtticus forward.“Andbesure thereareenoughmirrorsonboardforyou.”

“YournamesareCasperandCheyenne?”Atticusmanaged.

“AndourlastnameisWyoming.Wanttomakesomethingofit?”Cheyenneyankedhiswrist,pickingupthepace.“We’dplannedongivingyouameal,aparachute,andasafelanding.Wecouldalwaysforgettheparachute.”

“Wh-whatareyougoingtodowithme?”Atticusasked.

“We’retakingyoutoamoresecureplace,”Cheyennereplied.“Forafewquestions.Asimpletransferof…guardianship.”

Thebladetwisted.

Atticushadalwaystakenprideinbeingdifferent.Inbeingoneofakind.Buttherewasoneaspecthe’dtradeinananosecond.

He could still hear his mother’s words on her deathbed: I am passing alongGuardianshiptoyou….Youmustcontinue.Tradition.Somuchatstake.

AllheknewwasthatGuardiansfoughttheVespers.Andthathewastheonlyoneleft.

“I—Idon’tknowanythingaboutGuardians!”Atticussaid.

“Maybeyou’llchangeyourmindwhenwe’rethroughwithyou,”Cheyennesaid.

Atticus’slegswobbled.“Whatifmymomdiedbeforeshecouldtellmeanything?”

“I’dsaythatwasprettybadparenting,”Cheyennesaidwithashrug.

Atticus’s panicked eyes scanned the airport. In minutes they would be on a plane,speedingawayfromPrague.HewouldbeHostageNumberEight.CaughtbytwoVesperswhohadalreadytriedtogasDanandAmy.

TheWyomingswouldthinknothingofwhackingAtticusRosenbloom.

Think,Atticus.It’stheonethingyou’regoodat.

Casper was barking orders to a gray-haired airport worker at a hangar fifty yardsbeyondthetan-brickbuilding.Cheyennewaspullinghard,tryingtowalkfaster.

Atticus hated holdinghandswith this creep.The last female he had ever held handswithwashismom.

Mom,whowasthekindest,smartestwomanheeverknew.

Mom,whowasaGuardian.Whotoldhiminher lastbreathtostayfriendswithDanCahill.Whoknewtroublewasahead.

GuardiansweremixedupwiththeCahills.Mommusthaveknownsomethinglikethiswouldhappen.Shehadbeentakingprecautionsforyears.Shehadsecretpapers.Aweirdtechguruonretainer.

Beezer.

The name popped like a flash of neon out of an inkymental cloud—MaxBeezer,Mom’stechguy.AtticusandJakehadfoundtonsofhislittlegadgetsafterMomhaddied.MaxhadturnedmostofthemovertoMom’sassistant,DaveSpeminer,buthehadsavedsomeof thecoolones forAtticus.Like theminiature tracker thatheandJakehadbeentinkeringwithyesterday.Neitherofthemwassurehowitworked.Itwasnanotech.Weirddesign,waytootiny.

Butworthatry.

Heneededamomentalone.Withhiskeychain.

Frantically he felt in his left pocket, but the chain was gone. He slowed down andmoaneddeeply,doublingover.

Cheyenneglaredathim.“What?”

“Nothing.I’mokay.Really.”Atticusconvulsedagain.“Allthosepastriesonthetruck…plusmotionsickness.Badcombo.ButI’llbef-f-fine.”

“Oh,great—”Cheyennestopped.

Casper’s voice bellowed from within: “What do you mean, the plane isn’t ready?Hello?Earthtooldguy?Wepaidyouinadvance.”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Don’t ever treat your elders like that if you grow up.”Glancingtowardthebatteredmen’sroomdoor,shesaid,“Thisisn’tastupidtrick,isit?”

Atticusgulpeddownsomeair.“I’lljust”—breath—“sitnexttoyouontheplane”—breath—“andholditin.”

“No, youwon’t.” She pushed him toward themen’s roomdoor, kicked it open, andimmediatelyblanched.“Ucch.ThatisthegrossestthingI’veseeninmylife.”

“Idon’tmind.”Atticuspulledherinside,butsheyankedback.

Reachingintoherpocket,shetookoutasetofcuffkeysandunlockedhim.“Youhavetwominutes.Anddon’ttryanythingfunny,oryouwillbesosorry.”

Atticuspeeredintothebathroomandgrimaced.“Ineedmykeychain.SoIcanusemydisinfectant.”

“Yourwhat?”Cheyennesaid.

“MyGermAway,”Atticusreplied.

“Whatkindof eleven-year-oldboy takesdisinfectant into amen’s room?”Cheyennesnapped.

“Acleanone?”Atticusofferedwithashrug.“It’sjustthat…well,youseethesinkandthetoilet….Imean,we’llbehandcuffedtogetherandall….”

Cheyenne’s face was turning green. She reached into her pocket and pulled outAtticus’senormouskey ring. Itcontainedsevenkeys, fiveplasticstore rewardscards,ascrewdriver,aflashdrive,andatinybutfestive-lookingcanofGermAway.Shecarefullyexaminedthering,itembyitem.

Atticusheldhisbreath.

Aslowsmilecreptacrosshiscaptor’sfaceasshehelduptheflashdrive.“Ooh,cleverboy. A transmitter!” She unhooked the drive, dropped it to the ground, and crushed itbeneathherboot.Withatriumphant,malevolentgrin,shehandedthekeyringtoAtticus.“Welcometo thebig leagues,whereIQrunsadistantsecondtostreetsmarts.Youhavetwominutes.”

Atticus’sjawdropped.Hecastaforlornglanceattheshatteredpileofplasticandsteelontheground.Asheturnedtothemen’sroom,hefoughtbackasob.

Slammingthedoorbehindhim,heflickedonthelight.

Oneminuteandfifty-fourseconds.

Heturnedthesinktapsalltheway.Brownwatergushedoutloudlyintoastainedbasin.Hemoaned.HecouldhearCheyennecallingouttoherbrother.

Atticushelduphiskeyring,separatingoutthesmallcanofGermAway.Carefullyhetwistedopenthecap.

Itbeeped.

Fingersshaking,hetappedanapponthetinyscreen.Andhebegantypingacodeintothekeypad.

“Honestly,youstoodtherewhiletheytooktheboyaway?”askedIanKabra.

Amyshrank into thehotel roomsofa.She feltnumb.OnDan’s laptop, Ian’s featureswere exaggerated, his eyeswide and accusing.Behindhimwas thegleaminghigh-techCahillheadquartersinAttleboro,Massachusetts,whichAmyhaddesigned.Onceuponatime,Ian’sdark,dreamyeyeshadmadehermeltinside.Theangleofhishead,thewrinkleintheleftcornerofhislip—they’dobsessedher.Andhe’dbeenobsessedrightback.

NowallAmywantedtodowasthrowhershoeatthescreen.Shehatedhim.Shehatedhistoneofvoice.

Shehatedthathewasright.

ReaganHolt,TedStarling,NatalieKabra,PhoenixWizard,AlistairOh,FiskeCahill,andNellieGomez—sevenpeopleshecaredaboutwerefesteringinajailcell.AndnowAtticuswasgone.

Whatkindoffamilyleaderletsthosekindsofthingshappen?

“Yeah, that’s exactlywhat they did,” JakeRosenbloomblurted out, pacing the floor.“Nothing!”

“It’smyfault.”Amyglancedatherbrother,whowascurleduponthesofainthefetalposition.“Justme.NotDan.Ishouldhaveseenthiscoming.”

Onthescreen,SineadStarlingelbowedIanaside.Herredhairwaspulledbackwitharubberband,herdelicatefeaturestautwithurgency.“I’vealertedeveryCahillinthearea,ourcontactsatthePraguepolice,theCzechembassy,airports,limoservices,everybakeryfromPilsen toHradecKrálové.Nothingyet. I’m thinking theWyomingsusedaprivatejet.Shortflight,noconspicuous-lookingfueldrain.”

“They toldme not to call the police!” Jake fumed, as if Sinead hadn’t said aword.“Thentheyshovedmeintoacabandtookmehere!Somefamilyyouhave—thievesandcowards.”

Amybit her lip. Shewished she could have called the authorities.But she andDanwerewantedforstealingaworld-famousCaravaggiopaintingcalledthe“Medusa,”atthedemandofVesperOne.JakehimselfhadturnedthemintoInterpol.Policewerethelastpeopletheycouldaffordtoseenow.

“Coming touswas theright thing todo,”Sineadsaid.“We’ll findhim.Wehave theresources.”

“Whatifyoucan’tfindhim?”Dan’soutburststartledthemall.Helookedupfromhissmartphone,hiseyesstreakedwithtears.Onhisscreenwasanimageofaskinnykidwithdreadsandagoofballsmile.Atticus.

Amyachedforherbrother.Ithadn’tbeeneasyforDantomakefriendsaftertheCluehunt. He’d survived a collapsing cave, been helicoptered to the top ofMount Everest,becometrappedinanEgyptiantomb,watchedamandieinJamaicanquicksand,andbeenentrustedwith a complex five-hundred-year-old formula.Whatotherkid could relate tothat?

Atticuscould.Hewastheonlyonewhoreally“got”Dan.

“Ijinxedhim…”Danmurmured.“Itismyfault.”

Jake’s breath caught in his throat. He let out an explosive moan, more animal thanhuman.Asoundimpossibletohearwithoutbecomingphysicallyill.

Amyknewwhatitfeltliketofearforyourownbrother’slife.Shehadbeenlucky.Danwasalive.

And she felt guilty she hadn’t shown Jake the textmessageDan had received fromVesperOne:

You had Il Milione all this time. You really shouldn’t keep secrets fromme.Yourpunishmentthistime:AGuardiangoesdown.

Despiteallhertraining,she’dbeencaughttotallyunaware.BecausesheandDanhadbeenmakingadrop,anddropswerealwayssafe.

IshouldhavebeenwatchingAtticuslikeahawk.HowcouldIhavebeensostupid?

Asmuchasshe’dwantedtotellJakeaboutthenote,shecouldn’t.Jakewasapowderkeg.HehatedtheCahillsandhe’dbetrayedDanandAmyonce.Ifhediditagain,itmeantjailtime.Whichmeantdeathtothehostages.

AndnohopeforAtticus.

“This is about thatGuardiannonsense, isn’t it?” Jake said,nearly spittinghiswords.“Atticus’sgrandmotherguardedsomeancientmap,whichyouguysstolefromthelibrary.Mystepmothermusthaveguardedsomething, too.Tellme,whatwasit?AndwhatwasAttsupposedtobeguarding?”

Amyrepliedwiththetruth.“Wed-d-don’tknow,”shesaid,fightingbackthestammerthatkickedinwhenevershewasbottomingout.

“Andneitherdoeshe,”Jakesaid.“Sowhateverthissecretunknownthingis,itmustbe…unguarded.AmIright?”

Amyshookherheadhelplessly.“M-maybe.”

“Sowhoeverwantsitwouldn’twanttheGuardiantofindoutaboutit,”Jakebarreledon,hisvoicerisinginfury.“Becausethenhewouldgoandguardit.SotheseVespers…itwouldbeintheirinterestto…tokill…”

Logic.Stupid,cold,awful,cruellogic.Stopit!

“They’re lying!”Dan blurted out, hiswords sounding hollow and desperate. “That’swhattheydobest.Theysaidtheywouldkillahostage,too.Buttheydidn’t.”

“Theyshotsomeoneintheshoulder,”Jakesaid.“That’scloseenough!”

AmywincedatthememoryofthehideousfootageofNellieGomez,theironetimeaupairandnowlegalguardian,writhingbloodyinthehostages’secretlocation.

Sinead’s voice blared from the laptop. “Our operatives found a suspected Vespercommandcenter inLegnica,Poland.FormerTomas territory.We’vegot theplaceundersurveillance.Atticuscouldbethere.Socouldthehostages.”

Jaketurnedandboltedforthedoor.“I’moutofhere.Iwillfindmybrotherifitkillsme.Andifitdoes,Iwilltakeyoualldownwithme.”

Amyracedafterhim.“Jake,youcan’t!”

“’Sup,Attleboro-o-o-o?”camealoudstadiumcheerfromthemonitor.Despitethefactthat the image was mostly cap, sunglasses, chains, and radiant smile, there was nomistakingthefaceofworld-famousrapartistJonahWizard.“Yo,myhomeys,listenup—okay,my boyHamburger andme?We’rewaiting here inRoma so long I’m afraidmycoverisgoingtostopworking.Doyouknowhowharditistohidefromfansinacountrywheremysalesarethroughtheroof?”

Jakepaused for amoment, startled.He turnedbriefly to the screen,givingAmy justenoughtimetodartbetweenhimandthedoor.

On-screen,someonewasbumpingJonahfromtheside.

Despite hismuscle-packed, two-hundred-pound physique, HamiltonHolt had a hardtimejostlingJonahforscreentime.“Sorry,dude,butit’sgrubtimeandI’mwastingaway.WhatJonahmeanstosayis,weweresupposedtomeetErasmus,buthedidn’tshowup.”

“YouguysarerelatedtoJonahWizard?”Jakeasked,hislipcurleddisdainfully.

“Andtheotherguy,”Dangrumbled.“VinDiesel’sstuntdouble.”

Jonahpushedhiswayintoviewagain.“Yo,also?Myman,MacandCheese?Hedidn’tshowup,either.”

“HemeansMcIntyre,”Hamiltonclarified.“Isthisalawyerthing,tomissmeetings?”

“That’snotlikehim,”Sineadreplied.“OrErasmus.”

“DidyousayMcIntyre?”Jakesaid.“AsinWilliamMcIntyre?”

“Youknowhim?”Jonahasked.“Skinnyguy,alittledusty,noselikeascrewdriver,kindofboring?”

“Yeah, Iknowhim,”Jake replied.“He’smydad’s lawyer.Andhe’s tough.AnythinghappenstoAtticus,Iwillgethimtosueyoublind.”

Amytookadeepbreath.McIntyrewastheirconfidantandfriend,themanwhosetthehunt for the 39 Clues inmotion. He had been there in the background, watching overthem,liketheeyesandearsoftheirlategrandmotherGrace.Painfullyformal,hewasthelastpersonintheworldwho’dappreciatebeingcalledMacandCheese.

HewasalsothelastpersonwhowouldeversueDanandAmy.

“Sit,Jake,”shesaidfirmly.“Thisismorecomplicatedthanyouthink.”

Danshutthebedroomdoorquietlybehindhim.Nomorenoise.

Enoughof Jake’sanger.Enough thinkingaboutwhathappened toAtticus.Onemoremomentandhewouldsplitapart.

Heneededhope.Now.

Hepulledhisphoneoutofhispocketandcheckedhismostrecenttext:Suspend judgment. The whole story is always more complex than its parts.Wait.

AJT

Thewordsmade his blood race. The sight of those initials: AJT. The initials of hislong-deadfather.ArthurJosiahTrent.

Dan had only known him by the stories Amy told. By a blurry face in a tatteredphotographhe’dlostintheParisMétro.AJThaddiedinafirenineyearsago.AfirethatconsumedhishouseandbothofDan’sparents.

Whenthismessagecamein,Amyhadscoffed.Itcouldbeanyone.Whichwaslogical.

Butlifewasnotruledbylogic.Ifthe39ClueshadtaughtDanonething,thatwasit.Sometimesgoodwasbad,sometimesdeadwasalive.

Danpoisedhisthumbsoverthekeypad.ThereweresomanyquestionshecouldasktoprovetheID.

Then, ifAJT did prove to be real,Dan could ask him…well, everything.WhetherErasmus’s talewas true—thatDadhadbeenrecruitedby theVespersasayoungman.ThatDadhadrenouncedthem,marriedMom,andbecomeaCahill.HecouldfindouthowDadhadmiraculouslysurvivedthefire.

ButDan’sthumbswerefrozen.Thetruthterrifiedhim.Eitherway.

IfAJTwasn’thisdad,hopewouldbecompletely lost.Somehow, ifyoudidn’tknowthetruth,thepossibilitystayedalive.

Butifhewas,howcouldDanadjusttohisfathercomingbacktolife?Couldheforgivethelackofcontact?Whatkindofmanwouldlethisownsonthinkhewasdeadfornineyears?

AndhowcouldDandealwithafatherwhowasaVesper?

Suspendjudgment….

Dan’seyesfilledwithtears.Imagesracedthroughhismind—helicopterbladescuttingthecableofthegondolainZermatt.ThesightofNellie,bloodyandpale.TheboatchasethathadnearlykilledthemonLakeComo,andthehalongasinthelibraryinPrague.

“Suspend judgment forwhat?” hemurmured under his breath. “For nearly allowingyourownkidstodie?”

No.Hecouldn’tcompletethiscircuit.

Hetossedthephoneintoacorner.Itbouncedharmlesslyontherug.Thatwasexactlyhowhefelt—harmless.Powerless.Tiny.Confused.

He was tired of being the helpless kid. The victim. The chased. The lackey for avoicelessVesper.Whenwoulditstop?Whycouldtheyneverbeontop—whywasitthatheneverscaredanyone?

Itdoesn’thavetobethisway….

Numbers and symbols spilled fromhismemory—a complex set of ingredients andpreciseformulas.Itwasthelife’sworkoftheirancestor,GideonCahill.Aformulathoughttohavebeendestroyedin1507,discoveredinacaveinIreland,andnowknownonlybyDan. It granted superhuman abilities. Strength to overcome any attack. Speed tomovegreatdistances.Intelligencetooutthinkanarmy.

Withit,everydecisionwasclear.Everyenemywasdoomed.

Everymysteryyieldedtoutterclarity.

CheyenneandCasperWyomingwouldn’tstandachance.ThemysteryofAJTwouldberesolved.

Danwouldn’twonderifhehadafather.Hewouldknow.Hewouldknowwhetherhewastheonethinghewantedtobe,morethananythingelse.

Ason.

Asontothemostdetestablemanintheworld.

Twenty-sixmore ingredients.That’swhat he needed.Hehad thirteen of the difficultones already—myrrh from a Chinese herbalist, iron solute and a solution containingtungstenionsfromamachineshop,amberfromajeweler,iodinefromapharmacy,andabunch of stuff fromvarious chemical suppliers:mercury, liquid gold, zinc,magnesium,phosphorus, sulfur, calcium carbonate, and soluble silver in the form of silver nitrate.Someoftheothers,likewater,clover,salt,andcocoa,wouldbeeasy.

“Dan,whatareyoudoing?”Amy’svoicesuddenlycalledfromthedoorway.

Danjumped.“Comeonin,thedoor’sopen,thanksforknocking.”

“IwantedtotalkaboutJake,”shesaidsoftly.

“Oh,great,”Dangrumbled.“Mr.Congeniality.”

“He’ssoangryallthetime.Ican’tbringmyselftoshowhimthetextfrom…”Amy’seyeslockedonthephone,restingonthecarpet.ItsscreenglowedwiththetextfromAJT.Shesighed.

Danscowled.“Herecomesthelecture.”

Shesatonthefloornexttohim.“Dan,DadwasaCahill.Throughandthrough.Evenifhewasn’tbornone.Iwishyoucouldrememberhiseyes.Whenyouwerelittle,he’dholdyouuptoeveryoneandsay—”

“‘Moonface,’yeah,Iknow,youtoldmeabilliontimes,”Dansaid.

“Youbothwouldflashthisbig,identicalgrin,”Amysaid.“Momsaidyouweretwinsseparatedbyageneration.Themanwasn’tcapableofevil.Hislifewasnotalie.Ifyoureallyknewhim,you’dneversaythenamesVesperandArthurTrentinthesamebreath.”

“Peoplelie,Amy,”Danprotested.“Peoplepretend—”

“Dan, there were two bodies in the fire,” Amy insisted. “No one could have livedthrough that.Besides, ifhewerealive,he’dbewithus.Hewouldn’thave stayedawayfromtheCluehunt.Hewouldhaveledit.”

Danspunaround.“Thebodieswereburnedbeyondrecognition.Theycouldhavebeenanybody.UncleAlistairsurvivedacavecollapse,Amy!Cahillsdothingslikethat.AndifDadtriedtosaveMom,thenwatchedherburntodeath—inafiresetbyherownfamily?Because IsabelKabra thought theywere hiding one of the thirty-nine clues?You thinkhe’djustbeahappyCahillafterthat?”

Amy’sfacedrainedofcolor.“Whatareyousaying,Dan?”

“Remember Grace’s note — the one we found after discovering the secret to theclues?”Dansaid. “Shesaid theCahill familywasbroken.Untrustworthy. Isabel set thefire, andnoonehelpedout— theHolts,UncleAlistair, noneof them. I’msayingDadwouldhaveseenthemforwhattheyare.Murderers.”

Amy’sfacedarkened.“Soyouthinkhewentovertothedarkside,justlikethat?”

“Hewouldhaveseenittheoppositeway,Amy,”Dansaid.“Thedarksidewaswhatheleft.”

AmyrearedbackherhandtoslapDan.Hereeledinshock.

Beforeshecouldmove,abeepsoundedfromDan’ssmartphone.

Theybothfroze.

Dan stooped to pick up the phone and noticed a blinking icon across the top of thescreen. A GPS signal. He opened the app and saw a signal moving across a map ofwesternEurope.ItsoriginwasRUZYNEAIRPORT,PRAGUE.Itwasmovingeast.

AlongthebottomwasthenameA.ROSENBLOOM.

“Wakeupandsmellthelimestone,”saidCheyenneWyoming,yankingtheblindfoldfromAtticus’sface.

Heblinked.Ontheplane,hoursearlier,hehadlineduphisworstfears—torture,planecrash,poisoning,beingshovedoutatthirtythousandfeet.

WakingupatSiteNumberSevenonhisCoolWorldTravelWishListwouldnothavebeenanywherenearthetop.

Awestruck,hestaredintoasceneoflopsided,cone-shapedmountains,likegiantcastlesmadeof drippingwet sand. “We’re inGöreme,Turkey?”he said, his voice still froggyfromaforcedsleep.

“You’refamiliarwiththisdump?”Cheyennesaid.

“Inactuality,”Atticussaid,“it’soneof themost interestinggeological formationsontheplanet.IfIweren’twithyou,I’dberunningaroundlike,woo-hoo—”

Casperpushedhimhard.Atticusstumbledforward,hissleepyeyesfocusing.Hisbrainsuddenlyconnectedwithsomethingthathadbeendulledbysleep.

Histerror.

Breadtruck.Sack.Handcuffs.Jet.Itallrushedback.

Theyhadknockedhimoutontheplane.Cheyenneinsistedonit.Shewasafraidhe’dgetsick.

Heglancedaround foraway toescape.Hewasno longerhandcuffed,but therewasnowhere to run. It looked as if they were in a vast moonscape, the monstrous rockformations casting deep shadows in the afternoon sun.He’d seen photos, but in persontheyweremuch bigger— like giant rock fingers poked throughwith enormous holes.Caves.

Theywereheadingtowardthelargestrock,shapedlikeasinkingship.Atitsbase,anominous-lookingsignhadbeentiedtoatrashcan:

Atticus rubbedhiseyes, recallinghisyearsofonline language tutorials. “Wait, that’sTurkish,”hemurmured.“Anditmeans‘Danger:CollapsedCave.’”

“Don’tbelieveeverythingyouread,”Cheyennesaid.

Sheshovedhiminbeforehecouldprotest.Hehithisheadandhadtoducklowtofitthrough.Hisankle twistedas it landedbetween twowoodenplanks, rottedand termite-eaten.Cheyennescamperedonahead,wavingaflashlight.

“Ican’tsee!”Atticussaid.

“Casper,whereareyou?”Cheyennecalledoverhershoulder.

“Emptyingmypockets.”Another flashlightbeam,behindAtticus,began illuminatingtheplanks.“Atrashcanoutside.Alltheconvenienceofhome.”

Atticusstumbledalong,hisheadscraping the lowceiling.“Wh-whereareyoutakingme?”

“Toaplacewherewecantalkinprivate.”Cheyennestoppedshort.Shegesturedintoacornerofthecave,sweepingasideathickspiderweb.“Go.”

Atticus peered into the pitch darkness. The cave seemed to end there, a tiny, dankchamberbigenoughforoneperson.Nothingbeyond.Justacrannyinacavewhereadeadbodycouldrotandnoonewouldeverseeit.

Cheyennepushedhimin.Ashisbackhitthecraggedwall,sheandherbrothercrowdedclose to him. A light blinked on above, bathing them all in a greenish white glow.“UnrecognizedDNA,”amechanicalvoicedroned.

“Allowaccess!”Caspercalledout.

Aseriesofbeepswasfollowedby“Voicerecognitionaccepted.”

Thegroundrumbled.Withaloudscrapingnoise,thefloorbeneaththeirfeetbegantomove.Theywereonacircularplatform,slowlysinking.

“No!”Atticusreachedforthelipofthefloor,butCasperbattedhisarmsaway.Brightlights flickeredonbelow their feet, and soon thecramped, stinkingcavegaveway toavastundergroundchamber.

The place was freezing. Enormous maps spanned the walls. A news ticker scrolledheadlinesneartheceiling.Abankofclockstickedinunison,tellingtimeindifferentpartsof theworld to the thousandth of a second.Brushed-steel cabinets lined thewalls nearemptycomputerworkstations,theirblack,webbedchairsgatheringdust.

The platform reached the chamber floorwith a dull thump. Casper grabbed a chair.“Makeyourselfathome.”

Atticussankintothechair,sendingupasmallcloudofwispydust.Histhroatwasdry.Hehadtoswallowtwicebeforehecouldekeoutasound.“WhatamIsupposedtodo?”

Cheyennepulledahandkerchieffromherbaganddustedofftwoseats.Thetwinssat.“Telluswhatyouknow.”

“Aboutwhat?”Atticusasked.

Cheyenneglancedatherbrother,rollinghereyes.“Thegeniusthinkshe’stoosmartforusnincompoops.”

“AboutbeingaGuardian!”Casperexploded,lungingforward.

Atticusscreamed.Hislegdugreflexivelyintothefloor,propellingthechairbackward.Hecrashedagainstacomputertable,theimpactknockingthewindoutofhim.

Caspercrackedup.“Bravekid.”

“Isuggestcuttingtothechase,”Cheyennesaid,lookingbrightlyaroundtheroom.“Noone can hear you in here. No one knowswhere you are. Youwill not leave until youanswer.Andyouwillnotliveifyoudon’t.”

“Idon’tknowanything!”Atticusinsisted.“Itoldyou!Mymomwasdying.ShesaidIwasaGuardian.Shesaidwewereenemiesofyouguys.TheVespers.Shesaidyouwereaftersomesecret.Itwasallinfragments—Icanbarelyremember.”

Caspergrinned.Hestoodslowlyandsaunteredtothewall.There,heopenedacabinetdoor.“Maybewecanchangethat,”hesaid.

Insidewere a series of long knives.Casper pulled one out, a thin blade thatmade ahigh-pitchedshhhhink.

Atticusfeltthebloodrushfromhishead.Foramomenthecouldseeonlywhitespots.Theroomaroundhimseemedtoshrink,itsfrigidtemperaturewarming,thewallsrushingin,everythingdecayingintoatinytrap….

Hisbrainflashedanimageofthetinyroomattheairport.Amen’sroom.Atinycan.

GermAway.

“Iknow!Imean,Idon’tknow!”heblurted,wordspropellingthroughhismouthbeforehecouldthink.“Thatis,inactuality,Idon’tknowtheinformation.Inmyhead.ButIhave

it.Allofit.That’showweGuardiansdoit.Eventhoughwe’re,like,nerdsandgeniuses,allweknowistheinscription.”

Caspercockedhishead.“Thewhat?”

“Encryption!”Atticussaid.

Slowdown.Think.

Casper came closer, casually sliding the blade alonghis fingernail and shavingoff athinsliceasifitwerebutter.“Goon….”

“It…it’saprecaution,”hesaid.“Toavoidhypnosis.And torture.And truthserums.Wejustknowthekeysequence,that’sall.Sowecandecryptit.”

Casper flung theblade’s tip forward, sendinga fingernail intoAtticus’s face. “What.Exactly.Isit.Thatyoudecrypt?”

“It’sallinmyflashdrive!”Atticussaid.

Cheyennelookeddismayed.“TheoneIsmashedundermyfootattheairport?”

“No!”Atticusshotback.“Anotherone.Hiddenonmykeychain.”

Casper’sfacedarkened.Heliftedthebladecarefullyoverhishead.Then,withgrittedteeth,hehurledtheknifeatAtticus.

Atticusscreamedandducked.Thebladetorethroughthefabricoftheseatandimpaleditselfintothetablebehind.

“That’sformakingmehavetogoandgetthatstupidkeychain,”Caspersaid.“Ithrewitinthetrashcanoutside.Itwasruiningthehangofmypants.”

Asheleft,Cheyennewalkedovertothebankofclocks.ShestoppednearonethatsaidEASTERNSTANDARDTIME,US,whichread7:02A.M.

“This is Boston time, set precisely by the atomic clock,” she said. “All your littlefriendsarewakingupandgettingreadyforschool.Inahalfhour,atseventhirty-two,theywill be running for the school bus. And you, halfway across the world, will havedecryptedyourflashdriveandgivenusallyoursupposedinformation.”

Atticuswasshakingtoohardtoagree.

Ahalfhour?

Evenifhecouldmakecontact—withanyone—ahalfhourwasnotenoughtime.“I—I—m-m—”

“Chillout,”Cheyennesaid.“You’reamongfriends.”

“Imayneedmoretime,”Atticusblurtedout.“Ineedto…writecode.”

“It’safastcomputer,”Cheyennedrawled.

“ButI’mahuman,”Atticussaid.“NotevenMarkZuckerbergcancodethatfast!”

Cheyennewalkedtothetablewheretheknifewaslodged.Sheyankeditoutandheldittowardthelight.“Well,then…epicfail.”

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