The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

to avoid tipping him off. You can trust me, you know, Reynie.”

“I do trust you,” said Reynie, which was perfectly true. Milligan was one of the few people he did trust.

“All right,” Milligan said, clapping his hat down on his head again. “Then let’s see about following this wind. We can’t be expected to head east, as Sticky suggested. That would only take us out to sea.”

Sticky looked disappointed. “Well . . . maybe we’re supposed to head upwind instead of downwind.”

Everyone fell silent, pondering the clue. It was the first time since they’d arrived that no one was talking or (in Milligan’s case) working, and as they stood there they slowly became aware of the island’s sounds: wind flapping the edges of Milligan’s tarpaulin and shushing in the boughs of the trees, tree trunks groaning and creaking as they swayed, birds chittering and fluttering as they settled into their roosts for the night, the bay waters lapping against the shore . . .

And from somewhere in the forest, a faint yet unmistakable tinkling sound, like that of a chime.

Dusk Before Sundown

They found the wind chime hanging from a low branch a short distance into the forest. It was made of diamond-shaped pieces of thin, painted metal whose edges, according to Milligan, had been cut with a saw. They could find nothing in the tree it was hung from, no markings on the ground beneath it, no signs of any other clues at all. Reynie thought there must be something hidden in the chime’s paintwork — which at first glance appeared to be random, disconnected lines and squiggles — but when Milligan took down the chime pieces and laid them on the ground to examine them, everyone suddenly heard another distant tinkling.

“Another chime?” Sticky said.

“So that’s it!” Reynie said. “Now that we’ve taken down this one, we can hear the next one — the one that’s farther away. Mr. Benedict left us a trail of sound!”

Kate started forward. “Let’s get moving, then. Who knows how many more there are?”

“Wait a minute,” said Constance, bending to take a closer look at the chime pieces. “Let’s figure this one out first.”

“There’s no time,” Reynie said. “The wind dies at sunset, and I doubt we can find the other chimes without it. It’s already hard to see in these trees, and it’s only going to get darker.”

Constance scowled at him. “Who says the wind dies at sunset?”

“Han de Reizeger. You were asleep when Sticky told us.”

“Well, that’s stupid! Whoever heard of a wind —?”

Milligan scooped up the chime pieces in one hand and Constance in the other. “Stupid or not, we need to hurry.”

Constance, confused and annoyed, was looking around at the murky forest. “But isn’t it already after sunset?”

“It only seems that way because of the mountains,” said Milligan, setting off in the direction of the tinkling sound. “Over on the western side there’s still light — though not for long.”

“Dusk before sundown,” Constance muttered. “That’s ridiculous.”

They found the second wind chime fifty yards upwind, and a third one fifty yards beyond that. There they came to the edge of the forest and, apparently, the last of the chimes, for after this they heard no more. As Milligan climbed a tree to get a better view of the open terrain ahead, the children loosened the chime pieces from the wires that held them and laid them out on the ground: thirty diamond-shaped pieces of identical size, each painted with different markings.

“I just realized what these are,” Kate said.

“A jigsaw puzzle,” said Reynie, nodding. “Made with an actual jigsaw.”

Kate flipped one of the pieces over. “It’s really complicated, though. There’s paint on both sides, the edges all look the same, and we have no idea what the picture’s supposed to be. This could take hours!”

Constance stepped closer, staring intently at the puzzle pieces. “Turn that piece over, Kate,” she said, pointing. “No, not that one, that one, near the corner. No, the different one, for crying out loud! Here, let me.” She knelt and flipped several of the pieces over. “There. That has to be the right way, doesn’t it? It’s the only way you can see the jumbled-up map.”

The other children stared at Constance, then at the array of metal pieces on the ground. Where Constance saw a jumbled-up map, the rest of them saw a confusing mess of lines and colors.

Reynie squatted beside her. “We can’t quite make it out, Constance,” he said, trying to seem relaxed. “Could you re-arrange the pieces for us?”

Constance’s eyes grew round. “You mean I’m the only —?”

“Oh, any of us can figure it out eventually,” Reynie said with a casual wave at the puzzle, “but it’ll go faster if you do it. What do you say?”

Constance saw through Reynie’s attempt to keep her from feeling the pressure, but his easy, confident manner had a steadying effect nonetheless. She swallowed hard. “I . . . yes, okay. I’ll sort it out.” Fumblingly she took up a piece and immediately dropped it. The same clumsy fingers that couldn’t tie a proper bow in her shoelaces were now being put to a far more important test, and her nervousness had set them trembling.

“Just take it easy,” Reynie said. “Take your time. However long it takes you will still be faster than we could manage.”

Constance took a breath and started again, her awkward fingers struggling to produce the picture she saw so clearly in her mind’s eye.

During this time, Milligan had descended the tree and walked out from the forest’s edge to inspect something