A King's Ransom

“Do you realize that you’ve implicated my brother in your crime? And me?”

“I’m sorry, that was unavoidable. The fire alarm – ”

“You said you were only going to look at it.”

“No, actually, that’s what you said,” Amy corrected.

“She’s right, Jake,” Atticus said.

Jake wheeled on Atticus. “And you! How could you get involved in something like this?”

Atticus took a breath and faced his brother. “Because I’m a Guardian,” he said. “I’m involved whether I like it or not.”

“What’s a Guardian?” Dan asked.

Jake held his head. “Not this wacko fairy-tale stuff again.”

“It’s not a fairy tale!” Atticus cried. “I know that now. Mom told me I was a Guardian. I didn’t know what she meant. I still don’t. But I think my great-grandmother was one, too.” Atticus looked at them, vulnerable and scared. “Do you know what it means?”

“No. Can you tell us what she said?” Amy asked.

“I remember that she talked about the Guardians right before she got sick. She said it was a story her mother told her, only she never believed it. That there was this group that protected something over the centuries. More than one thing. They moved stuff from place to place until they found the safest spot. My mom thought it was a made-up story. But then she met someone who told her it was true. She didn’t believe her, either. But this person said that the Guardians and the Madrigals were sort of partners. And that the Vespers were our enemies.”

“Grace,” Amy said. “That’s why your mother called for her in the hospital. Grace is – was – our grandmother.”

“Of course!” Atticus cried. “Because Mom suggested I join this online gaming group and look for this guy named Cahill. She said she’d met his grandmother once and thought we’d hit it off. And I thought you were really cool, so we became friends. Not because of her, but because …” Atticus’s voice faltered as he added, “Because you liked me.”

Dan held out his fist for a bump. “You are blowing my mind, dude.”

Meanwhile, Jake stood a few paces away, his arms folded. Amy tried not to squirm. Whenever she felt his eyes on her, she grew annoyed. He couldn’t just glance at a person. He had to read the person, as though he was waiting for her to make a mistake or pull something over on him.

“Listen, Miss Mysterioso, it’s time we heard some answers. We’re not going to go another step forward if you don’t tell us what you’re involved in. What exactly did you mean about lives being at stake? You and Dan almost suffocated. That wasn’t accidental. Somebody is after you. Who is it? Who are the Vespers? What do they have to do with you?”

They were facing each other across the room, both of them with their arms crossed.

“I’m afraid to tell you,” Amy said.

Jake’s stern expression relaxed for a moment. “Did you ever think,” he said slowly, “that we could help?”

Here it was – the moment Amy knew was coming. And she wasn’t in the least bit prepared. Sinead had told her not to trust them. But Sinead wasn’t in this room.

She remembered Jake’s hand on Atticus’s shoulder. She remembered him saying Because it was the right thing to do. She felt something odd insinuate itself inside her. She still didn’t like him. But she trusted him. He was one of the good guys – she could feel it.

She looked at her brother. They had a moment of pure communication, the thing between them that they’d counted on during the hunt for the Clues. There were so many times that they trusted their instincts, ignored what they should do and proceeded to take a different way. It had worked out. Usually.

Yes, Dan’s gaze was saying, we can trust them. We have to.

“Telling you what’s going on could endanger you,” Amy said hesitantly. “I know that sounds way dramatic, but it’s true.”

“We’re already in up to our necks,” Jake said.

Amy took a breath. There was so much to say, but she didn’t have to say it all yet. “The Vespers are a group that’s been in existence for hundreds of years – since the sixteenth century. It’s a secret organziation, and its members are recruited. So we don’t know any identities – well, we know two. The twins who were at the library. And your mother … She was right about the ring. They’re after it. It’s not magic, of course, but we don’t know why they want it.”

“Wait, hold on a second. Who’s we?” Jake asked.

Amy and Dan didn’t say anything. They couldn’t just blurt out a secret that had been kept for hundreds of years.

But they didn’t have to.

“You’re Madrigals,” Atticus guessed. “That story is true, too.”

“Seven people from our family have been kidnapped,” Dan said. “We almost were, too. And then we get this phone with a text on it from this dude called Vesper One. He says that if we don’t follow his instructions, he’ll kill them.”

“Are you sure he’s serious?” Jake asked.

“He shot one of them,” Amy said. “In the shoulder. She seems okay, but …” She took a shaky breath to compose herself. “So yeah, he’s serious.”

Jake kept his gaze on Amy. “Are the people they kidnapped … are you close to them?”

Amy felt her eyes sting. She willed herself not to cry. She lifted her chin and tensed her whole body so it wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t appear weak in front of Jake. “We’ll do anything to get them back.”

She’d done everything to show him strength, but somehow, she sensed, he saw her vulnerability instead. He cleared his throat and looked out the window.

Dan got his computer out of his backpack and then reached for Il Milione. “Okay, gang. It’s time to get the jump on Vesper One.”

“‘For to the world I was a Traveler, but once on the road I stopped in the great and splendid City. There I took on the task, Guardian, of what was entrusted to me to keep.

“‘Men steal and kill, they hide and conceal, and the great Task for us is to bury what should be buried and do not mourn, for it is better so.’”

Atticus read the words out loud. Then he pushed his glasses up on his forehead and rubbed his eyes. He’d found a dictionary of Old French in the professor’s library, and it had taken him awhile to translate the epilogue.

“It’s kind of rough,” Atticus said. “My Old French isn’t as good as my Latin.”

“Are you sure the translation is correct?” Jake asked.

“Who are you talking to?” Atticus asked, insulted. “Of course it’s correct.”

“‘The great and splendid City’ … there must have been a few on the Silk Road,” Amy said.

“What’s that?” Dan asked.

“It was an old trading route,” Jake said. “It wasn’t called the Silk Road back then.”

“The term didn’t come into use until maybe the late nineteenth century,” Atticus put in. “I believe it was a German term at first?”

“Uh, smart dudes? This isn’t Jeopardy!” Dan said. “Can you just give me a summary?”

“Trading routes through Asia,” Jake said, studying the de Virga map. “Look, the wind rose is right in Central Asia.”

“I thought it was called the compass rose,” Amy said.

“Same thing.” Without touching the map, Jake passed his finger over the expanse of territory. “Four thousand miles or thereabouts, from the Mediterranean to China. That includes parts of Turkey, Uzbekistan, India, Persia, Afghanistan … that’s a lot of territory. Maybe this will make sense if we look up some facts about cities along the route.”

“Let’s look at Jane’s note again,” Dan suggested.

“The murderer must be Kepler,” Jake said. “And the genius?”