long hallway, and they quickly ran down it. Dan checked his GPS watch and put the earpiece in his ear.
“Left, then right.”
They were in a part of the castle that was closed to visitors. Dan led them down the back staircase and past the vast kitchen. From there they found the door that led to the lower levels and the tunnels. Amy was expecting small, cramped, and dirty spaces, but the tunnels were large and airy. They could see a group of tourists just exiting out to the courtyard.
Dan kept moving, listening to the instructions in his earpiece. They followed turn after turn. Finally, he stopped.
“This is the one,” Dan said. He removed the earpiece and pushed open the door.
The room was completely empty except for a battered gray filing cabinet. They opened the drawers, but they were empty.
“Talk to me, Jane.” Amy slammed the drawer shut. “Where did you leave it?”
Dan began to run his hands along the bricks on the far wall. He followed the line of bricks that met the floor. Nothing.
“The floor slopes,” Amy said suddenly. “Why is that?”
“Well, it’s a tunnel,” Dan said. “It could flood. There’s probably a drain.”
Amy followed the slope of the floor and found a tiny square drain.
“Dan!” she cried. “In the article I read, Jane said ‘
Dan peered down at the drain. “You think?”
“I think. Can you get the grating off?”
Dan got out his multi-tool and fitted the blade against the drain. It took him several minutes, but he was able to pop it free.
Taking a breath, Amy reached her hand in. She felt along a corroded pipe. “Yuck,” she said. She lay down on the floor, her cheek against the cold stone, and stretched her arm as far as she could.
“There’s something here,” she said, her heart beating. “A string … looped around something …”
“Can you get it?”
“I think so… .” Slowly, painstakingly, Amy drew up a small, flat package wrapped in yellowed plastic. Her hands shook as she carefully unwrapped it.
A small black leather notebook was revealed. Not the de Virga map. Disappointed, Amy carefully opened the flap of the notebook with a fingertip.
Written in faded pen she saw initials on the inside front cover:
“Jane,” Amy breathed.
She gently turned the page. Written in pencil, so faint she could hardly read it, was:
“Oh, terrific,” Dan muttered. “Just what we need! Another code! Why can’t people just say what they mean? Why can’t they say THE MAP IS IN THE DESK?”
Amy quickly thumbed through the notebook. The rest of the pages were empty. “At least we found something that will lead us to it.” Amy slipped the notebook into the inner pocket of her jacket. “Now let’s get out of here. I have a creepy feeling about this place.”
“Hmmm. Secret passageways, tunnels, Nazi ghosts, security, a mad king … I have no idea what you mean.”
“Going so fast? But you forgot something.”
The voice echoed outside in the tunnel. Amy and Dan jerked up from where they were kneeling as a figure blocked the doorway.
“Me.”
It was Casper Wyoming. He leaned against the doorway, a glittering knife in his hand.
The road climbed into the mountains, Jonah taking the hairpin curves as fast as he dared.
“You look so macho clutching the door handle that way,” he said to Hamilton.
“Just … be … careful,” Hamilton said through clenched teeth.
Ahead Jonah could see a particularly winding set of turns that led to a spindly looking bridge over a gorge. He eased off the accelerator. He wanted speed, but he wasn’t suicidal.
He hit the brakes for the first curve. The car didn’t slow but scraped against the guardrail.
“WHOA!” Hamilton shouted, looking down into the gorge. “Dude, the brake pedal is on the left!”
With an uneasy feeling, Jonah pumped the brakes. The pedal went to the floor. His hands were suddenly sweaty on the wheel. “There’s something wrong with the brakes.” He didn’t recognize his shaky, weak voice. He pumped them again. Nothing.
“There’s something wrong with the BRAKES?”
“I don’t think we have any.”
“We don’t have any BRAKES?”
“Bro, it doesn’t help to repeat everything I say!” Jonah yelled.
“She did it!” Hamilton cried. “She planted some kind of device… .”
Jonah downshifted as the car roared up the mountain. The engine protested in an angry whine. “C’mon, baby, work with me!”
At least they were climbing now. The natural drag was slowing down the car.
“It must be remote-activated or something… . Watch OUT!” Hamilton screamed, as another curve loomed ahead. Jonah barely made it, tires squealing. “Or maybe it’s inside the car and I can find it!” Frantically, Hamilton began to search.
Jonah concentrated on the car. “Keep your seat belt on! And secure any loose items in the car.” If they went over the side, anything that flew in the air would turn into a missile.
“Maybe it’s in her suitcase!” Hamilton twisted in his seat. He undid his seat belt and reached behind, grabbing Cheyenne’s big purse and flinging it out the window. Then he wrestled with her suitcase and forced it through the small space. He tried not to look as the suitcase bounced and careened off the side of the mountain, splitting in two. That could be him in a minute.
“Check the brakes!” he yelled. He stuffed himself back into the seat and clicked the seat belt shut.
A perspiring Jonah shook his head. “Sorry, bro. That wasn’t it.”
Jonah was using the shift to brake now, remembering his driving course. He had been taught how to use steering to control the car, how to accelerate into curves and keep the car on the road. He tried to remember everything he’d learned about downshifting, about the process of deceleration and acceleration… .
He just wished his hands weren’t sweating so badly… .
“The bridge.” Hamilton’s normally deep voice was a squeak. “If you don’t make that turn, we’ll go straight off.”
Jonah didn’t answer. There was no answer. Hamilton was right.
He tried to plan the route even as he struggled to keep the car on the road. He would need to come out of that turn and downshift immediately. He could see from here that it was impossible. Unless … unless he used the side of the mountain to slow down the car. Just enough so that he wouldn’t lose control …
He swallowed and gripped the wheel.
“Hang on,” he tried to say, but his mouth was so dry the words barely made it out.
He eased the car to the left.
“What are you doing?” Hamilton yelled.
The car slammed against the mountain and then jerked back on the road. That didn’t work. Too hard.
He eased it over again, this time watching carefully. The side mirror snapped off. Sparks flew. The car was slowing, definitely … but he was heading for the curve.
He bumped back on the road, the wheel shuddering in his hands. He took the curve on two wheels. For an instant, the clear Alpine air was all they saw, dark blue sky and dark green pines… .
The car shivered and kept the road. Jonah downshifted, fighting gravity, fighting the road, fighting the mountain, fighting the VESPERS, because he was going to WIN… .
The car straightened out and zoomed over the bridge. Jonah kept it steady.
“Jonah! Up ahead, on the left – that road. See it? It’s going uphill.”
