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ContentsMaskPage

Ready,Set,Go!

TitlePage

Dedication

Prologue

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

Chapter27

Chapter28

Chapter29

Chapter30

Chapter31

Chapter32

Chapter33

Chapter34

Chapter35

SneakPeek

Tabloid

Copyright

SomewhereoffthecoastofMaine

Therewasonlyonehouseontheisland.Therestwaspineforest,athick,dark,bristlingscreen that threw the beach into shadow for most of the sunlit summer days. It alsoconcealedmostofthebuildings,thethreepools—outdoor,indoor,andlap—thetenniscourts, thehelipad, the landingstrip, and the four-cargarage fromanypassing sailboat.Onlytouristscameclose.Thelocalsknewbetter.

TheyknewthemuscledmenintightblackT-shirtsinthefastrubberboatswhowouldcutyourfishinglineorblareawarningwithahornthatcouldmakeyoureardrumsbleed.

Theyknew the treacherous currents, too.Theyknewhow thewind seemed towhipthroughthechannelataspeedandferocitythatyoudidn’tfeelintheharbor.Theyknewtostayaway.

Thesoundofaviolinsoaredthroughthestillair.Asixteen-year-oldgirlwatchedherfingers moving without error, notes sliding and falling like pure water. What used toconfound her now flowed. She knew that if sheworked at her skill she could succeed,eventhoughshehadnotalent.

That’swhatherfathertellsher.

Thethirteen-year-oldboyjustdefeatedhistennisproinstraightsetswithoutbreakingasweat.Hesawthesurpriseonthepro’sface.Justwaituntil theguyfoundouthewasfired.Theboy’sdadalwaysfiresacoachafterhe’sbeendefeated.

Theylackthekillerinstinct,hisfathersaid.Youwanttoturnoutlikethat?

Hewhacked the tennis ball hard, sending it back over the net. The coach had bentdowntoretrievehisbag,and theballslammedintohisback.Ow.Thatmusthavehurt.

Theboyknewitwellfromexperience.

“Neverturnyourbackonacompetitor!”theboyjeered.

That’swhathisfathertellshim.

Killerinstinct.

Farouttosea,amanwasswimming,movingaspreciselyandtirelesslyasamachine.Even thoughhe had three pools, he preferred swimming in the open sea.This year thesealshadbeenswimmingcloserandclosertoshore.Thismeant,heknew,thatthegreatwhitesharkswerelurking,movingconstantlyinordertofeed.

Itaddedacertain…spicetotheswim.

Theman reached thedockwith severalpowerful strokes.Hehauledhimselfupandstrodetowardthehouse.AshortbutpowerfullymuscledmaninablackT-shirttossedhimatowel,andhewipedhisfaceandthrewitontheground.Hedidnotworryabouttowels.Theywerepickedup,laundered,andstackedagain.Hedidn’thavetoseeitorthinkaboutit.Hewas always thinking great thoughts now.Thoughts large and complex enough totakeintheworld.

HeenteredthroughtheFrenchdoorsintotheden.Healmostrecoiledfromthesightofhundreds of glassy eyes staring at him. His wife was arranging and rearranging hercollection.Again.Hehurriedpastbeforeshehadachancetotalktohim.

Hisofficewascoolandquiet.Hepulledonaterry-clothrobeandactivatedthemanytransparentscreens.Dataflashedby,andheabsorbeditallquicklyandcompletely.Thingswere so different now. His strategic thinking was almost as fast as the computer datastreakingacrosshisscreens.

Almostthere.Soclosehecouldtasteit.

Thereareonlytwopeoplealiveontheplanetwhocanstopit.

It’stimetoeliminatethem.

SomewherenearMt.Washington,NewHampshire

Inthesmalltownwherethemenoccasionallywentforsupplies,theirstorywasthattheywereonacorporateretreat,testingtheirskillsinthewilderness.Themen—theywereallmen—lookedremarkablyalike.Theywereallfitandmuscularwithclose-croppedhair.They usuallywore track pants andT-shirts, or hiking gear.Theywere friendly, but notforthcoming.After they left, the shopkeeper or gas station attendantwould realize that

theywere hard to tell apart.They had names thatwere hard to distinguish: Joe, Frank,John,Mike.

Overahundredmenhadbeenshiftedintoandoutofthecamp,butforthepastfourweeksthegrouphadbeenwhittleddowntosix.Sixofthebest,sixofthebrightest,sixofthemosttrustworthy.

Theyhadalwaysbeeninshape;thatwastheirjob.Butthislastmonththey’ddoubledtheirstrengthandthendoubleditagain.Theyhadclimbedthemountainfourteentimes.They attended classes in combat driving, surveillance, andmartial arts. They had beenfitted for Italian suits, handmade shoeswith rubber soles, and jacketswith pockets thatwillholdtheirweaponrycloseandwithoutdetection.

Theywereready.Theyjustdidn’tknowforwhat.

Alltheyknewwasthattheyhadneverfeltsopowerful.Soatthetopoftheirgame.

Astheysatonhardchairswatchingtheirscreensflashwithasimulatedescapefromametropolitanarea,theleaderofthemenheardthechimeofatext.Hewasthetallest,andthetannest.Histeethwereverywhiteandeven;hisrealteethhadbeenknockedoutinabarfightyearsagoinCorsica.Hisfaceregisterednoemotionashetoldtherestthatitwastimetomobilize.Theyhadreceivedtheirtargets.

He connected his phone to the computer.On a large transparent screen floated twophotographs.

“TargetOne,TargetTwo,”hesaidinaflattone.

Themenshowednoemotion.Eventhoughtheirtargetswerekids.

Attleboro,Massachusetts

Itwasasunny,beautifulday.Adayyoufeltgladtobealive.

ToobadAmyCahillwassurroundedbythedead.

Amy bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Shewas only sixteen, but she’dattendedtoomanyfunerals.She’dsaidtoomanygood-byes.

Sixmonthsagoshe’dburiedhercousinandheruncle,andtoday,amarkerwouldbeplacedforWilliamJamesMcIntyre,familyattorneyanddeeplylovedfriend.

Hercellphonechimedinherpocket.Sheslippeditoutandreadthetext.Itwasfromherboyfriend,JakeRosenbloom.ItwassixhourslaterinRome,wherehelived.Itwouldbe close to dusk there, and he’d be putting away his books and starting to think aboutdinner.

Amy’sfingerwaspoisedoverthekeyboard.Hergazedrifteddownthegrassyhilltowhereapolishedgraymarkerstoodgleamingnext toweathered, tiltinggravestones, themany generations of the Tolliver family who had lived in Attleboro since before theRevolutionaryWar.Toofarawaytoreadthename,butshedidn’thaveto.

EVANJOSEPHTOLLIVER

Sheslippedherphonebackinherpocket.Tearsstunghereyes.She’dputonablackdress andgone toEvan’swake sixmonths earlier.Hismother had shut thedoor in herface.Amyhadunderstood.Afterall,sheblamedherselfforEvan’sdeathjustasmuchashis mother did. If it weren’t for Amy, Evan would still be alive. He would still bevolunteeringatthelocalshelter,stillbepresidentofthecomputerclub,stillbeteasinghis

littlesister,stillbeinlineforhazelnutcoffeewithwhippedcream.Hewouldbealiveontheearth,feelingthewind,appreciatingthesky,everysensealerttothisearlyspringday.Instead,hewas in theground.Hehadbeenherboyfriendandhehaddied forher.Andhe’dneverknownshewasgoingtodumphimforJake.

She’d never even had a date before crushing on Evan. She’d just been plain AmyCahill, the straight-A student in jeans and sneakers.Unremarkable andoverlooked.Shewasn’tthekindofgirlboysnoticed.Thenshe’dlookedatEvan,andhe’dlookedback.

She’d thoughtshewas in love.Untilshemet intense,charismaticJakeRosenbloom,andrealizedthatshehadn’thadacluewhatfallinginlovewasreallyabout.

Ifonly shecould remember theexhilaration she’d feltwhenshe’d first realized thatJakelovedherback.Nowtherewassomuchsorrowandguiltinherheartthatshefeltasthoughshewassurroundedbyfog.

Shegotup in themorning,brushedher teeth,anddidher lessonplans.Sheandherbrother, Dan, now were homeschooled by their former guardian, Nellie Gomez, andseveraltutors.Ithadbeenarainyfallandacoldwinter.Thedayshaddissolvedintograys.Thebooksthathadoncegivenhercomforthadblurredinfrontofhereyes.Italianlessons,historylessons,mathproblems,essays,projects.

For thepast sixmonths, she’dbarely left thehouse except to run long,hard, cross-countrymiles. At night shewandered the house, second-guessing every decision she’dmade during the battlewith the criminal organization theVespers.When had she gonewrong? Should she have refused to let Evan help them? Should she have orderedMr.McIntyrebacktotheUS?Somanypeopleshehadlovedhaddied.Shehadtheclouttoforcethemoutofharm’sway,butshehadn’t.

Whyhadn’tsheusedthatpower?

At sixteenyearsold,Amywasheadof theCahills, themostpowerful family in theworld. Their ancestor, Gideon Cahill, had formulated an extraordinary serum at thebeginningof the sixteenth century. Since that time, the five branches of the family hadbattled,spied,lied,stolen,betrayed—allforonepurposeonly.Eachofthebrancheshadonepartoftheserum.Ifthecompleteserumwasassembled,itwouldmakeanyonewhotookitthemostpowerfulpersonintheworld.

Afterallthosehundredsofyears,AmyandDanhadbeenthefirsttoputtogethertheformula for the serum.But theyand theotheryoungmembersof theCahill familyhadrealizedatlastthattheserumwastooincrediblydangeroustoeventhinkaboutproducing.

Now the formula— a list of thirty-nine ingredients, their complicated calibration, andpreciseamounts—wassafelylockedaway.

Inthesteel-trapbrainofherthirteen-year-oldbrother.

Amy’sgazedriftedtohersandy-hairedbrother.HardtobelievethatthisskinnypersonnowsecretlyslippingawormintoAuntBeatrice’spursecouldbethemostpowerfulkidintheworld.

Protectinghim—protectingalloftheCahills—washerjobasheadofthefamily.

GuessIdidn’tdosowellwithyou,Mac,Amysaidtothemarbleurn,hereyesfillingwithtears.MurderedinahotelroominRome.

Shewipedhereyes.ShehadwaitedsixmonthstoburytheashesofMr.McIntyre.Hewasherlasttietosecurity.

Mr.McIntyrehadbeenmore thanher attorney;he’dbeenherbest andmost trustedadviser,andmaybeherbestfriend.

Nowheretheystood,theonlymournersexceptforAuntBeatrice,whohadstartedoffthemorning complaining that her hay feverwas acting up and the funeral director hadbetter“getthisshowontheroad.”

The elegant marble box sat on a small table. It contained what was left of Mr.McIntyre. Just ashes. His kindness, his shrewdness, his intelligence— it was all gonefromtheworld.Nowtherewasjustabox.

Thefuneraldirector,whomDankeptreferringtobehindhisbackas“Mr.Death,”hadshown up late. He nervously wiped at the sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief.Whenhe’dplacedthemarbleboxonthetable,he’dalmostdroppedit.

“Isthishisfirstfuneral?”Danwhispered.

The tall, muscular clergyman looked more like a football coach. He’d brought abouquetofwiltedredroses.NotMr.McIntyre’sstyleatall.Amydidn’tknowwhethertolaughorcry.Thiswholethingjustfeltsurreal.ShealmostexpectedMr.McIntyretodriveupandgetoutofalongblacklimousineandsay“AprilFool.”

“Thisisadisgrace,”AuntBeatricemuttered.“Onlythreepeopleattheservice!”

“Henry Smood is in the hospital with appendicitis,” Amy said, referring to Mr.McIntyre’slawpartnerandtheirnewattorney.“Hewasreallyupsetthathecouldn’tmakeit.Andthehospitalwouldn’treleaseFiske.”

AuntBeatrice sniffed. “Iwas talking about family,” she said. “It used tobewhenafaithfulretainerwasburied,theCahillsshowedup.Evenifwedespiseeachother,weusedtoknowhowimportantappearancesare.”

“Aunt Beatrice buried her retainer?” Dan whispered to Amy. “I just flushed minedownthetoilet.”

Amysteppedonhisfoot.Herbrothermadejokeswhenhewasnervous,orscared.Shewasusedtoit,butAuntBeatricewasnot.

“Mr.McIntyrewasfamily,”Amysaid.

“Dear,”AuntBeatricereplied,“onlyfamilyisfamily.”

Amyjerkedherheadaway.AuntBeatricewastippingtheceremonyfromdifficulttounbearable.

“TheTempletonCahillsalwaysusedMcIntyreandSmood,”AuntBeatricewenton.“And the Durham Cahills. And surely the Starlings could have showed up! DeniseStarlingusedMcIntyreforyearsuntilshedecidedhewastooclosetoGraceandsenthimthatpoisonpenletter.Evenifitwasrealpoison,sheshouldhaveletbygonesbebygones.AndDebra used him for her prenupwith that nastymanwith the strange name.Nevershouldhavemarriedhiminthefirstplace…”

AuntBeatrice droned on, namingCahillsAmy andDan had never heard of. “Theydidn’tcomebecauseIdidn’tinvitethem,AuntBeatrice,”Amyinterrupted.

“ButMr.McIntyrewasthefamilylawyer!”AuntBeatricesputtered.ShenarrowedherbeadyeyesatAmy.“Didyoueventellanyonewhatyouweredoing?”

“No,”Amysaid.“I’mnotinterestedintheiropinions.Imadethedecision.”

AuntBeatriceopenedhermouth,butAmyheldupherhand.“Andthat’sfinal.”

AuntBeatrice’smouthclosedandopenedlikeafishfeeding.

“Waytogo,”Danmuttered.

Amygaveasmallsmile.Sometimesitwasdifficulttobetheheadofthefamily,butwhenitcametoAuntBeatrice,shedidn’thaveaproblem.

“Arewereadytobegin?”thefuneraldirectorwhispered.Amysawhimsneakaglanceat his watch before gazing down respectfully. She could almost picture him saying,“Dudes,let’sgetthisshowontheroad.”

Theclergyman read aBibleverse in awoodenvoice.Thenhe closed thebook andnoddedatAmy.

“Good-bye,Mr.McIntyre,”Amy said. “Youwere our protector andour friend.Thebestofthebest.Restinpeace.”

“Good-bye, Mac,” Dan said. “Sorry about the time I put a frog down your pants.Thanksfortakingcareofus.”

AuntBeatricesneezed.

Theclergymangesturedatthepileofdirtbytheopengrave.“Wouldyouliketothrowahandfulofdirtintothegrave?”heasked.

“Oh,forheaven’ssake.Ihavegardenersforthatsortofthing,”AuntBeatricesaid.“Ihaveanallergistappointment.”

Amy bent down and threw dirt into the grave. Dan did the same. The clergymanhandedher the rosesand shedropped those in, too.Sorry,Mac, she toldhimsilently. Iknow you’d prefer tulips. A sudden memory came to her, of Mr. McIntyre in Grace’sgardeninhisshirtsleevesonafineMayday,regardingabedofyellowtulips,saying,Nowthere’sacheerfulflower!

TearsfilledhereyesandshealmostaskedAuntBeatriceforatissue,butheraunthadalreadystalkedoff.Herdriverwashurryingtoopenthecardoor.

Mr.Death had left, too— hewas almost running as hemade hisway through thegravestonestohiscar.

That’s odd, Amy thought.Why did the funeral director leave so quickly?He didn’tevensaygood-bye.

The clergyman leaned over to pick up the shovel.Amydidn’t think she could bearseeingthegravefilledup.

Assheturnedaway,somethinghardhitthebackofherhead.Painblindedher,andshefeltherselfshovedintotheopengrave.

Amyhitthegroundonherhandsandknees,feelingtheshockshudderthroughherbones.Shelookedup.Thelightwasblockedoutasaheavyobjectcameflyingdownather.Shemovedby instinct rather than thought, rollingherself into a ball against thewall of thegrave.

Danlandedwithacry.Sheheardhisbreathleavehisbodyinasoftuh.

“HELP!”Amyshouted.

Inanswer,ashovelfulofdirtraineddownonherupturnedface.Shespatitout.

“Areyouokay?”sheaskedherbrother.

Henodded,hisfacewhitewithpainandfear.Hisbreathwasshort,andhedugintohispocketforhisinhaler.Danhadasthma,andAmycouldseethecloudsoffinedirthangingintheair,settlingdowntochokehisairway.

She shouted forhelpagain,but all she sawwas theglintof the shovel asmoredirtraineddown.

“Hepushedmein,”Dansaid,chokingandwheezing.“Deliberately…”

Thiscan’tbehappening!

Panicshudderedthroughher.Hermindwhirled.Theyhadnoenemiesanymore.Theyhadunitedthefamily,theyhaddecimatedaglobalcriminalorganization.Theyhadgonebacktobeingtwokidslivinginamansionthatwastoobigforthem,hauntedbyallthethingstheyhaddoneandseen.Theironlyenemieswerememories.

So why was this happening again? The horror of it spooled out, making her brainoperateonwhitenoise.Shecouldn’tseemtothink,orbreathe.

Amy was hit by another barrage of soil. Whoever was trying to bury them wasworkingfastandmethodically,notevenbotheringtopeekovertheedge.

Itdoesn’tmatterwho’sdoingit.Youhavetogetoutofhere.

Amy could feel the dirt in her hair and down her collar and in her ears. Sheremembered the pile by the open grave. How long would it take before they werecovered?Howlongwouldittaketosuffocate,untilthedirtfilledhermouthandherearsandhereyes…

It’s fifth-grade math all over again, she thought crazily. If the man can scoop ashovelfuleverytenseconds,andthegraveissixfeetdeep…

“Amy!”Dan’spalefacewassuddenlysharpasthebuzzofpaniccleared.Heplacedanurgenthandonhersleeve.“We’vegottogetoutofhere!”

Herbrainkickedinatlast.Instinctclickedwithexperience;everythingspeededupandshefeltveryclear.Shelookedaround,assessing,planning.Shemeasuredthegravewithaquickglance.Probablythreesquarefeet.Thesidesweresteep.Amytriedtoclimb,butthedirtcrumbledinherhands.Shetriedtojaminatoe,butshecouldn’tgetup.Okay,nextplan.

“Watch out!”Dan slammed into her, knocking her sideways as themarble boxwastossedintothegraveaswell.ItmissedAmy’sskullbyafractionofaninchandlandedonDan’sfoot.Heletoutagruntofpainandbentover.

NowitwasjustthetwoofthemandMr.McIntyre’sashes.

Amyeyed thebox. Itwasn’t justabox. Itwasastep. Itwasabouta foothigh, justwhatsheneeded.Itwasachance.She’donlygetone.

“Dan,”Amywhispered.“Getontheurn.Hurry!”

Danknewwhat shewantedhim todowithouther evenasking.Hebalancedon thebox.Hebentdownslightly,makingacradleofhisfingers.

Amy looked up, timing her move. One, two, three and she was up, hands on hisshoulders;then,usingthesideofthegravetokeephersteady,shebalanced,crouchingonhisshoulders.ShefeltDan’sbodyshakingwithherweight.Hehadtoholdon,justholdon for three more seconds. She was counting on the machinelike efficiency of theirattacker,theprecisionofhistimingasheusedtheshovel.Two,one…

She straightened and jumped just as theglint of the shovelwentover the lipof thegrave.Themetaledgeglancedagainstherhead—morepain,thankyouverymuch—butshe grabbed at it and yanked hard, then fell backward into the grave as Dan flattenedhimselfagainsttheside.

Shecrashedtoherknees,stunnedandbleeding—butshehadtheshovel.

A face appeared against the rectangle of blue sky. The man had ripped off theclergymancollar.Heflashedasmile,histeethwhiteandeven.

“Nicework,missy.Yougotyourlittletoy.Goingtodigyourselfevendeeper?”

Thefacedisappeared.Theyheardthesoundofretreatingfootsteps.Hewouldbeback.

No time to hesitate, no time to press some cloth against the blood on her forehead,only time towipe it out of her eyes. She jumped back on themarble box, grabbed theshovelbythelonghandle,andshoveditintothesideofthegrave,ashardasshecould.Theshovelfellout,theloosedirtunabletoholdit.Ithadtogodeeper.

“Helpme,Dan!”Hegotbehindher,andtogether,graspingthehandle,theyforcedittightly into thesideof theearth.Danheld theshovelandnoddedather.Hisgreeneyeswerebrightagainstthedirtandbloodmixedonhisface.

“I’vegotyou,”hetoldher.“Go.”

Ithadtobeher,theybothknewthat.Shewasarockclimber,ascrambler,sheknewhowtofindthetinyniches,howtoplantherbodyagainstthewallandgetup.Shehoistedherselfupontheshovelhandleanddugherfingersintotheearth,closinghereyesasshemadealedgeforherfingertips.Danyankedout theshovelandshehungtherewhilehejammeditafoothigher.Sheheardhimpantinghardandfast.Shetestedthehandle.

“Ready?”

“GO!”Dangrunted,andsheusedthehandle tospringup,upto the topof thehole.Every muscle was straining, but she knew she could do it. Had to do it. Her handssmacked down over the edge. Her arm muscles quivered as she quickly scanned thecemetery.Themanwas nowabout fifty yards away.Hewas running toward the utilityshed.Behindhimanothermanemerged,holdingashovel.

Amygatheredeveryparticleofstrengthshehadandhauledherselfovertheedge.Herfacehitthedirt.Shehadtimetograbonebreath—onlyone—beforeshefoundherfeet.

Somethingmadeherattacker turn,someflickerat thecornerofhiseye,andhesawher.Bothmenspurtedintoarun.Straightather.

Shemadea swift calculation.Theywere fast,much faster than sheexpected.TherewasnowayshewouldhavetimetogetDanout.Shehadtoleadthemaway.

She streakeddown thehill.She felt thebenefit of pushingherself throughall thosepunishingruns.Danhadpointedoutthattheyweresafenow,shedidn’thavetobequiteso…intense,butAmyhadfoundsolaceinthosedawnruns.Nowtheywouldhelpher.

She led them down a sloping hill, leaping over gravestones.All thewhile shewassearching frantically for help, her gaze sweeping the cemetery for any sign of people.Theywouldn’tattackheriftherewerepeoplearound.Shehoped.

ShewasalmostattheTolliverplotnow.Shehadmiscalculated.Theywerealmostontopofher.Howcouldtheybesofast?She’dhadsuchabiglead!

Amy leaped over a crumbling old headstone, and she felt rather than heard thedisplacementofairastheshovelwasraised.Withasuddenswerve,shedoubledbackandsaw the secondman’s lookof surpriseas sheheadedstraight towardhimwithaclassicspinningkick,rightathisthroat.

Sheconnectedhard.

Whydidn’thegodown?Hewasn’tevenwinded.

Hejustspunawayandliftedtheshovel,andsheduckedatthelastminute.Itcrasheddownonthepolishedgranitebehindher.Thewoodenhandlesnapped,butthesteelendofthetoolcrackedtheedgeofthestone.

VANJOSEPHTOLLIVER

ThesightofEvan’sdesecratedstonegavehersuchaspurtofragethatshepickedupthechunkofsplinteredrockandthrewitattheman’shead.Bloodspurtedfromhismouth.He smiled. She had a confused impression of eyes the color of the gravestones, bloodstreakingperfectwhiteteeth.

Heraisedthesplinteredendofthehandle.ShedroppeddownbehindEvan’sstoneasthemancharged.Evanwouldprotecther,onelasttime.

Thehandle hit the stone and cracked, and shewasoff and runningbefore he couldgrabitagain.Hewasonherheels.Shecouldhearhisbreathing.Soclose.Sheknewanysecondhewouldgrabherhair,crashintoher,andbringherdown….Andnowshesaw

theotheroneaheadofher,kneesbentandready,waitingforwhateverdirectionshewouldchoosetogo.Theywouldrunherdown,andforsomereasonthatshewouldneverknow,theywouldkillher,andthentheywouldgobackforDan.

Suddenly, shesawacar turn into thecemetery road,abright redToyota. Itwas thebestsightintheworld.People.

Amy veered at the last second and started down the hill, leaping over gravestones,wavingherarms,andshrieking,“HEY!”

Thecarpulledover.Ayoungishwomangotout.Amywasconfusedwhen,insteadofhelping,shebegantotakepicturesofAmywithalong-lensedcamera.

Another car pulled in. NowAmywas truly confused. Twomen got out and beganshootingheraswell.Whatwasgoingon?

Herattackersseemedtosimplymeltaway.Onemomenttheywererightonherheels,andthenexttheywerealmostatablackcar,walkingquickly,likemournerseagertogohome.

Amyturnedandranback towardMcIntyre’sgrave.She layflatand lookeddownatDan.“They’regone.Areyouokay?”

Dan’sfacewasapaleoval.Shesawthestrainaroundhismouthandknewhowafraidhe’d been that someone else would be returning. “Sure. I’ve been buried alive. Neverbetter.”

“Wait. I’ll get a ladder.”Shehurrieddown thehill to theutility shed.Toher relief,therewas a ladder leaningagainst the side.Shehoisted it andquickly returned toDan.Amyslidtheladderintotheholeandasecondlaterherbrotherclamberedup.

“DoIlookasbadasyoudo?”Danasked.“Becauseyoulooklikeazombie.WhichIguessmakessenseconsideringwejustclimbedoutofagrave…”

AbrightyellowJeepturnedintothecemetery,goingtoofast.Amygrinned.Therewasonlyonepersonsheknewwhocouldbelateforafuneralandthenspeedinacemetery.Nellie.

Dan felt his legs shaking as they jogged towardNellie’s car.He quickly dove into thebackseatof the JeepasAmyclimbed into the front.Hedidn’twant them toknowhowterrifiedhe’dbeen,waitingthoselongminutesatthebottomofagrave.

“Kiddos!I’msosorry!DidImisseverything?”Nellietwistedaroundandwasrootingthrough the contents in the back, trying to straighten out her usual jumble,whichDanconsideredanimpossibletask.Thefamiliarityofthegesture,theusualsmellofthecar—What was it, exactly? A mixture of popcorn, apples, and that bottle of wheatgrassshampooNelliehadspilledayearago?—whateveritwas,ithelpedhimfeelsafe.

WhenNelliehadreturnedtocollegeinthewintersession,she’dtriedforafewdaystotone down her look, but now her hairwas back to its usual crazy style, jet-blackwithbleached platinum ends. Shewas always late, but she claimed it was because shewas“mad overscheduled.” In addition to tutoring them, she took a full load of classes atBostonUniversity, juggled at least two boyfriends, and cooked at a café in Boston onWednesday and Saturday nights. Dan grinned when he saw her struggle to sweep herchaosoffthebackseatontothefloor:Onherarmwasanewtemporarytattoo.ThewordFOCUSblaredathimfromhertannedforearm.

Nelliehadoncebeentheiraupair,whichmeanthehadoncehadthegreatestaupairinthe history of civilization. She’d traveled the world with them on the hunt for the 39Clues,watchingout for themandprotecting them.Nowshewas likeamashupofoldersisterandbestfriend.

Nelliesweptthevariousitems—awaterbottle,atowel,acookbook,abagofapples—offtheseatwhileshetalked.

“Ihadone freakymorning,”shesaid, tossingahalf-eatensandwichback inapaperbag.“Myphonegotwonky—itateallmyphotos!—andthenyourUncleFiskecalled—he’sdoingokay,butIthinkweshouldgovisit—andthenIcompletelyforgotthatIhadputcinnamonrollsintheoven,andIracedtogethereontime,eventhoughIknewAuntieBeatricewould giveme the hairy eyeball if Iwas late… and then this red carsideswiped me… .” Nellie’s head popped up. “Hey, I think that’s the car!” she cried,pointingtotheredToyota.Then,finally,shecaughtsightofAmyandDan.“Whyareyoubothsodirty?IsthatBLOOD?”

“We’reokay,”Amyreassuredher,reachingbackforthetowel.

“YouaremostdefinitelyNOT!Whathappened?”

“I’ll tell youwhilewe drive,”Amy said. “There’s awhole bunch of photographershere,forsomereason.Maybesomebodyfamousisgettingburiedtoday.”AmywipedherfaceandthentossedthetoweltoDan.

Nellie put the car into gear and headed toward the cemetery gates. “Okay, spill,becauseIamabouttototallyfreakoutonyou.Didyoufalloutofatreeorsomething?”

“Wefellintoagrave,”Dansaid.“Becausewewerepushed.Thensomegoontriedtoburyusalive.”

“Twoofthemchasedmeacrossthecemetery,”Amyadded.

NelliealmostswervedofftheroadassheturnedtolookatDan.“That’snotfunny.”

“Ididn’tthinkitwas,either,”Dansaid,wipingthelastofthedirtoffhisface.

Nellie’shandsgrippedthesteeringwheel.Hesawherfacechange.She,likethem,wasaMadrigal,thebranchofthefamilythatwasnowinchargeofalltheCahills.

“Anyideawhotheywere?”sheasked.

“We don’t know,”Amy said. “That’s the trouble.” She gazed out thewindow. “It’sstartingagain,Nellie.Icanfeelit.”

Nelliegaveheraquickglance.“What?”

“Somedarknesswecan’tsee.It’scomingforus.Again.”

“Areyoupositiveitwasn’tjustsomerandomcrazyguys…”

DancouldseeAmy’sfaceintherearviewmirror.Heknewthatlook.Shewasgoingback over the details, thinking about every word, every gesture. She shook her head

firmly.“No.Thiswastargeted.Theymusthavepaidoffthefuneraldirector.And…”

“Theyknewwhowewere,”Dansaid.“I’msureofit.”

“Cahillsgonerogue?”Nellieasked.

AmyandDanconsideredthis.EventhoughnowthefamilyofCahillshadagreedonpeace,andtheirdigitalnetworkhadlinkedallthebranches,theydidn’tknoweveryCahillpersonally.

“I don’t think so,” Amy said slowly. “There was something… professional abouttheseguys.Likehiredmuscle.”

“Muscleistheword,”Danagreed.“Thatwasnominister.IthoughtitwasweirdthathelookedlikeabuffversionoftheIncredibleHulk.”

“Whoevertheywere,theseguyswereOlympic-caliberathletes,”Amysaid.“WhenIkickedtheguy,itwaslikeslammingintoawall.”

Nelliechewedonherlip.“We’llfigureitout,”shesaid.

Hervoicewasconfident,butDanknewthatwhenNelliechewedonherlip,shewasseriouslyfreaked.Theywerequietfortherestofthedrive.

TheydrovethroughthebackroadsofAttleborountiltheycametotheCahillproperty.Nelliepunchedinthecodefor theirongatesandtheypulledintothewindingdrive.Assoonas thegatesclosedbehind them,Danrelaxed.Herealized thathishandshadbeencurledintofists.

Grace’selegantmansionloomedahead,acrossameadowandbehindastandoftrees.Danletoutalongbreath.Home.

Nelliepulledupby thekitchendoorand turnedoff theengine. “Let’shit theCahillnetworkandseeifthereareanyalerts.”

Hanginguptheirjacketsinthemudroom,theytookthebackstairstwoatatime.Theydidn’t use much of the house now— mostly the kitchen, the bedrooms, and Grace’slibrary, a place where they often congregated in the late afternoons, with a fire in thefireplace, Amy’s head drooping over a book. Dan had heard her walking the house atnight.Heknewtherewasnothinghecoulddotobreakhersadness.

I’moneoftherichestkidsontheplanet,andI’mhelpless.

Two years ago, after the hunt for the 39Clues, Amy had unfurled a grand plan torefurbishtheirgrandmother’smansion.Sheknewtroublewascomingandsoshebuilta

command center, with a whole bunch of guest rooms and bathrooms and a separatekitchen,incaseCahillshadtobunkinandstayover.

Amyhadevenboughtanorbitingsatellite forall theircommunicationneeds,whichshenamedGideonafterthefirstCahill.Ithelpedtohaveagazilliondollars.Amywasn’tthetypeofgirltobuysweatersandpurses.Sheboughtsatellites.Thatjustaboutmadeherthecoolestsisterinthegalaxy,hefigured.

NowDanusedthecommandcentercomputertokeepatleasttwochessgamesgoingat the same time with his best pal, Atticus Rosenbloom, who lived in Rome with hisbrother, Jake.Danknew that somethingwasn’tquite rightwithhis sisterandJakenow,buthewouldrathereatadishofsalamanderjellythanaskheraboutit.

Ashewalkedinto theroomhesawimmediately thathe’dbeencheckmated.Atticushadleftamessage:LOSER.

Beatenbyaneleven-year-old.Well,atleastAtticuswasagenius.He’dgraduatedfromhigh school and had already been accepted at Harvard, Yale, and the University ofChicago.Dantypedback:NOTFORLONG.

Hesawhissisterflinchasshecrossedthethreshold.HeknewthisroomremindedherofEvan.

Saladinrubbedagainsthisanklesandhepickedhimup.Hesettledthecatinhislapashesatatthemaincomputer.HebegancheckingtheCahillfeed.

“Nothingoutof theordinary,”hereported.Heletoutasmallsighofrelief.At leasttheirfamilywasintact.

Nelliesatatasecondcomputer,a frownonher face.“Yourpersonalalert systemisgoingcrazy,though.Lookatallthesehits.”

Amyleanedoverhershoulder.“It’sagossipsite,”shesaid,surpriseinhervoice.

Nellie clicked on the link, and an image sprang to life. Amy and Dan in front ofInterpolheadquarters.

CAHILLBRATSSTEALARTFORKICKS!screamed theheadline.Underneath, insmallertype,itsaid:ClaimThatTheftsWere“JustPranks.”DidTheyBribeTheirWaytoFreedom?

“What?”Amyexclaimed.

“Weneversaidthetheftswerepranks!”Danprotested.“Andwedidn’tbribeanybody!Interpoltotallygotthatweonlystolestufftorescuehostages!”

“Andtheyagreedtokeepthestoryquiet,”Amysaid.“Sohowdidagossipsitegetthisphoto?”

Nellieswallowed.“Itookthatpicture.Myphonewashacked!”

“Butthatwasonlythismorning!”Amypointedout.

“Inoticed it thismorning,”Nellie corrected, her voice grim as she clicked throughmore links. “It could have happenedweeks or evenmonths ago. I hardly ever use thatcamera.”

CAHILLKIDSSKATEAWAYONTHEFTCHARGES

Thephotographwastakenafewyearsago,ofDanandAmyRollerblading.

“That’smyphotoforsure,”Nelliesaid.Shebegantotypefrantically.“I’vegottogetourgeniustechguyonthis.”

Dan nudged Nellie over so that he could take her place at the keyboard of thecomputer.“Lookatthis,”hesaid.“It’sfromtoday.”

Amysawaphotographofherselfleapingoveratombstone.Hermouthwasopen,herhairwas flying, and it looked as though shewas laughing. She knew themoment thatphotographhadbeen taken.She’dbeen shoutingat theyoungwomanwho’d raised thecameratoherface.Butmatchedwiththeheadline,itlookedasthoughshewashavingthetimeofherlife.

AMYSEZ:“GHOULSARECOOL!”

CAHILLKIDSCHOOSEHISTORICCEMETERYFORWILDPARTY

“We’re like the poster children for the rich and bratty,” Amy said. “How did thishappen?”

Danclicked through to thenextphoto, thenquickly clickedpast it. “This is all justcompost.Noneedtolookatit.”

“Whatwasthat?Comeon,I’vealreadyseentheworst.”AmyhittheBACKbutton.

ShegaveasharpintakeofbreathwhenEvan’sfaceappeared.

THETRAGICDEATHTHATHAUNTSAMY

Didshecauseherfirstlove’sdeath?

Danlookedathissister’sstrickenface.Quickly,heclickedawayagain.

“Itdoesn’tmatterwhatitsays.It’sjusttrash.”

“They’re just trying to drive traffic,” Nellie said. “Not enough going on withcelebrities inHollywood, so they found a new target.What I’mwondering iswhy youtwo.Andwhytheattacktoday.”

“Doyouthinkthey’reconnected?”Amyasked.

“They’rebothattacks,aren’tthey?”Nelliesaid,takingthekeyboardawayfromDan.She began clicking and dragging. “One is on you physically, the other on yourreputations.”

Nelliequicklycompiledthestoriesintoaspreadsheet.Danwatchedherdraganddrop,lookingforapattern.

“Let’s plug these sites and tabloids into a search engine and see who the parentcompaniesare,”Nelliesaid.

Withinminutes,theresultscameback.

“They’reallownedbyonemediaconglomerate,”Amysaid.“FoundersMedia.”

“Neverheardofit,”Dansaid.

“It’sownedbysomerichguynamedJ.RutherfordPierce,”Nelliesaid.“Ididn’tknowheownedhisownmediacompany.”

“You’veheardofhim?”Amyasked.

“Sure,”Nelliesaid.“Imean,notmything—ifyou’renotontheCookingChannel,Idon’tknowwhoyouare,basically—buthe’ssomekindofmajorpoliticalpundit.HehashisownTVandradioshows,andhisTwitterfeedhasoveramillionfollowers.Haven’tyouheardof‘Piercers’?”

AtAmy’sandDan’sblanklooks,sheturnedbacktothecomputerkeysagain.

“It’swhathecallshisfollowers.‘Piercers.’HisshowiscalledPiercingIntellect.Theyhave this rah-rahFoundingFathers cult. Look, don’t getmewrong, the Founderswereseriouslycooldudes,but ifyou thinkabout it,whatwould theyknowabout,youknow,climatechangeorEuropeandebtor…”

“Nellie?”Danspunafastcircleinhischair.“Losingus.”

“Here—Pierce’sbio.”

Amyscanneditquickly.“BorninMaine,wasthefourthgenerationtogetintoHarvard… but look, his business résumé isn’t so great if you read between the lines. Threecompaniesheworkedforwentbust.Andthenheranforstatesenatorandlost….”

“Twokids,GaltandCara—hey,they’reourages,thirteenandsixteen—andawife,DebiAnn,”Dansaid.Hestudiedherpicture.“Helmethair.”

“Heboughtanewspaperandthat’showhebuilthisfortune,”Nelliecontinued.“Look,thisisstandardPRstuff.Itdoesn’tgiveustherealdeal.We’llhavetodigforthat.”

“Look at the dates,” Dan said. “He bought that one newspaper ten years ago. Butsuddenlywithin the last sixmonths he’s been acquiring things likemagazines and TVstationsandwebsites….”

“You’reright,Dan,”Nelliesaid.“Hebuiltamediaempireinlessthanayear.Howdoyoudothat?Hemustbeamega-genius.”

“Amega-geniuswhocouldn’tmakeitthroughHarvard,”Dansaid.“HefinishedupatSpringfieldPolytechnicCommunityCollege.Wherehisdadbuiltthenewstate-of-the-artaquacenter.”

“There’splentyof information,”Nellie said. “But it doesn’t saymuchat all.And itsuredoesn’tanswerwhyhe’stargetingyou.”

Danspunaroundinhischairthreetimes.Thenhestoppedhimselfwithonehandonthedesk.

“We’renotgoingtofindoutjustsittinghere,”hesaid.“Weshouldjustaskthedude.”

“Youdon’tjustgettoaguylikethat,”Amysaid.“Youhavetogothroughaboutsevenassistantsandabunchofreceptionists,andthenhesaysno.”

“So,weambushhim,”Dansaid.

Amy nodded. “We’d have to track his routine… pick a likely coordinate… . It’sdoable,butitwilltakesomesurveillance.”

“Iloveitwhenyoutalklikeaspykid,”Dansaid.“Or,wecouldjustshowupHERE.”HereachedoverNellie’sshouldertoenlargeoneofthewindowsonthecomputer.

RUTHERFORDPIERCETOLEADREPORTERSONTOUROFFOUNDERSMEDIAHEADQUARTERSSITEINDOWNTOWNBOSTON.

Protestsplanned.

“CanwemakeittoBostonintime?”Amyasked.

Nelliegrinned.“IfI’mdriving,wecan.”

TheyjumpedintotheJeepandNelliegunnedthecardownthelong,curvingdrive.Shepunchedinthecodeandtheelectricgatesswungopen.

Cars were now parked on the grassy edges of the lane, slanted in crazy angles.Photographerssprangforward,theirfacesobscuredbycameras.

The noise of camera shutters clicking sounded like hundreds of crickets on a stillsummernight.“Duck!”Nellieyelled.

Amyducked,butnotbeforeseeingacamerasnappingapictureofherfrightenedface.

Nelliegunnedthemotorandspedpastthem.Stillclicking,thephotographersranfortheircars.

“Canyoulosethem?”Amyasked.Herheartpounded.Shefelthuntedandtrapped.

“Areyoukidding?”Nelliespeddownthestreet, thenmadeashort right turnontoadirt road. She squeaked past overgrown shrubbery to barrel down a driveway. “TheFieldstoneswon’tmind,”shesaid.“IgaveMaryloumycoffeecakerecipe.”Sheswervedoffthedriveway,bumpedoveragrassyfield,skirtedabadmintonnet,thenmadeahardrightontoabackroadthatranalongalake.“Wecangettothehighwayfromhere.”

Nelliemadeseveralfastturnsandapproachedthehighway.SheswungthecarintotheturninglaneundertheBOSTONsign.

“Yousee?”shesaidconfidently.“Allclear.”

Dan twistedbehindher.“Um,not. I thinkIsee that redToyotaagain.Andacoupleothers.Theymusthavemadeaguessthatwemightbeheadedtothecity.”

Thedrivewasshortandtense.Nelliewentasfastasshedared,butcarskeptswervingclose,tryingtogetapicture.Thephotographerscutacrossthreelanesoftraffic,hungout

ofwindowsshooting,poppedoutofsunroofs.

“There’ssomehatsbackthere,”Nelliesaid.“Trytocoveryourfacessotheycan’ttakeyourpicture.Maybethey’llgiveup.”

Danpawedthroughthehats.HeheldupaMexicansombrero.“Uh,Nellie?”

“Free Hat Night at Don Jose’s Cantina,” Nellie explained. “You gotta try thechimichangas.”

“Haven’tyoueverheardofCapDayatthestadium?”Dangrumbled.HepulledonaplaidwinterhatwithearflapsandhandedAmyacanvasbeachhat.Shepulleditdowntoher eyebrows. She couldn’t hear the clicking of the shutters but she felt their intrusivechatterhammeringinsideherbrain.

Nelliejerkedthewheelsuddenlytotherightandexitedoffthehighway,leavingtwocarsfullofphotographerszoomingpast,comicallooksofsurpriseontheirfaces.

“See ya, suckers!” Nellie called as she gunned through a yellow light, made twosuccessivequickleftturns,andthenplungedintothenotoriousBostontraffic.

Aftera fewminutesofcombatdriving,Nelliepulledup inabus lanewithacryofsatisfaction.“IruleBeantown!”

Theycranedtheirnecksandlookedstraightupattheskeletonofaskyscraperacrossthestreet.

A bus driver leaned on the horn behind them. “Textmewhen you’re done,”Nelliesaid.“I’llmeetyourighthere.”

Ignoringtheblaringhorn,Nelliescannedthesidewalk.“There’salotofsecurity.Howareyougoingtosneakin?”

“Just followmyfirst ruleof life,”Dansaidasheslidoutof theJeep.“Everybody’sgottaeat.”

Fifteen minutes later, Amy and Dan walked to the side construction entrance, bothcarryingbags fromBrownBagSubs.The tantalizingaromaofmeatball subssnakedupfromthebags.

Threeconstructionworkerssatonamakeshiftbenchoftwo-by-foursandbricks,rightoutsideadoormarkedCONSTRUCTIONSITE:DONOTENTER.

“YouguysknowJoe?”Danasked,holdingupthebag.“Thisishisorder.”

“Justgothroughthedoorandyell,”oneoftheguyssaid.“Heshouldbeintheoffice.”

AmyandDanpushedthroughthedoor.“HowdidyouknowaguynamedJoeworkedhere?”Amyaskedastheydroppedthefoodbagsonatable.

“That’s my second rule of life,” Dan said. “There’s always a guy named Joe.” HegrabbedayellowhardhatandtossedonetoAmy.

“It’s starting to scareme howmuch you know about breaking and entering,”Amyobserved,puttingiton.

They stood in the hall, wondering which way to go. The building had girders andbeamsanddrywallthatmarkedafewrooms.Stacksofwoodandglasslitteredthespace,alongwith rolls of insulation and long snakelike bundles of rebar. Plastic buckets heldemptycoffee cups and scrapsofmetal andwood.Spray-painted inorangeon thewallsweremysterious letters andnumbers.Largeconcretecolumnsmarcheddown the space,andthedustspiraledintheairthroughthebeamsoflight.

“Ismellsomething,”Dansaid.

“Danger?”Amyasked.

“Doesdangersmelllikecookies?”

Amysniffedtheair.“Andcoffee.”

“If there’s a tour, there might be coffee for the press,” Dan said. “Maybe we canmingleandwewon’tgetnoticed.”

Followingtheirnoses, theymovedtowardthefrontof thebuilding.Soontheycouldhearmurmuringvoices.

“Thesearestale,”someonesaid.

“Hey,they’refree.Coffee’snotbad.”

AmyandDanpeeredaround thewall.Aboutadozenreportersstoodscarfingdowncookiesandgulpingcoffeeoutofpapermugs.

Theysidledinandlingeredattheedgeofthegroup.

“Where are you from?” one of the reporters askedDan.He had spiky red hair andlookedalmostasyoungastheydid.

“Uh…anationalkids’magazine,”heanswered.“HomeschoolingMonthly.”

Theguynodded.“Soundscool.WishI’dbeenhomeschooled.Justnotwith,youknow,myownparents.I’mwiththeweb’zineCelebrityDish.”

“Isn’t thatownedbyFoundersMedia?”Amyasked.“So,Mr.Pierce iskindofyourboss?”

Heshrugged. “We’reallpartof thecompany.Yourmagazine, too—you justdon’tknowit.Youthinkthisguywantsbadpress?He’salreadygotastackofviolationsonthisbuilding.He’sthrowingshadeonacommunitygarden—didyouseetheprotestors?Andsomepoorconstructionguygotkilledlastmonth.They’reputtingthisupsofastthey’vegotsafetyinspectorsbreathingdowntheirnecks…butthentheymysteriouslygoaway.Hey, do you have your question ready?We’re only allowed one each, you know. I’mgoingtoaskwhatcolorpajamashewears.”

“You’regoingtoaskaboutpajamas?”Danblurted.

“I’mnotgoingforaPulitzerhere,buddy. I justwant tokeepmyjob. IfPiercesayspolkadots,I’vegotaheadline.”

“Lovethathard-hittingnews,”Danmuttered.

Atrimyoungwomaninaredsuitenteredthespace,herhighheelsclicking.Shewaswearing,Dannoticed,asmallheadsettuckedunderherhair,aslendersilverwirehoveringnearthecornerofhermouth.

“Hi, guys! I’m Arabella Kessler. I’m Mr. Pierce’s personal assistant, and I’ll beescortingyoufromthehospitalitysuitetothereceptionsuite.”Shewavedheryellowhardhat.“Let’sallputonourhats!Nowfollowmetothesixty-fifthfloor!”

TheyfollowedArabellaKesslerandherclickingheelstoalargecageelevatoronthesideofthebuilding.Thereportersfiledinside.Thecageroseup,up,highoverthecity.A

gustofwindshookthewiremeshcage.Someofthereportersturnedgreen.“BestviewinBoston,”Arabellasaid,andpushedopenthedoor.

Theyfiledoutintoaspacesimilartothegroundfloor.Concrete,pilesofstackedglass,machinery lying idle.Wires hung down from the grid of the ceiling, coiled like snakesabouttostrike.

Aroomhadbeenframedoutwithmetalcolumns.Atoneendapodiumhadbeensetup,withreddrapeshungbehindit.Thewindblewthroughtheopenspace.Eventhoughthey were nowhere near the edge, Amy shivered. The reporters clustered togethernervously.Everyonefeltexposed,sohighabovethecity,withnowallsforprotection.

ArabellaKesslerstoodbehindthepodiumandspokeintothemicrophone.Hervoiceechoedandbouncedfromoneconcretepillartoanother.

“Welcome to the sixty-fifth floor of the new headquarters of Founders Media, thenumberonemediaconglomerateintheUnitedStates!”

Therewasasilence,andthenafewclapsbegan.Apparentlyapplausewascalledfor.

“Yes, isn’t it thrilling! The innovative design of FoundersMedia headquarters willincludeaone-square-blockcomplexwiththreeseparatebuildings,alljoinedbypedestrianbridges!The buildingswill offer offices, retail, restaurants, and theFounders televisionstudios. After a short press conference during which you can ask your preapprovedquestions, you will get a personal tour of the new FoundersMedia headquarters by J.RutherfordPiercehimself.Ladiesandgentlemen,IgiveyouJ.RutherfordPIERCE!”Shealmostscreamedhislastname.

A tallmanwith silver hair and amovie-star smile strode through the curtains. Thelightsbouncedoffhisburnishedskin.Helookedglowingandhealthyandreadytotakeonthe world. “So happy to be here today, my friends!” he said, taking his place at thepodium.“I’lltakeafewquestionsbeforewestartthetour.”

“Whatisyoursecrettosuccess?”someoneasked.

“Workhardandloveyourcountry.”

“Whatdoyouliketodoonyourdayoff?”

“Playwithmydog,Sport,andgrillsomegoodmeat!”

“Aslongashedoesn’tgrillSport,”DanmurmuredtoAmy.Thereporterstandingnexttothemoverheardandchuckled.

“Howdoyouaccountforyourspectacularrise?”

“IworkedhardandIlovemycountry.”

DangroanedintoAmy’sear.“Talkaboutpuffballquestions.Howarewegoingtogettotalktohim?”

“Onthetour,”shesaid.

“Notwithallthesehandlersaround,”Dansaid.“Isayweshakethingsup.”Heraisedhisvoice.“Howmuchdoesitcostthesedaystobribeasafetyinspector?”

The reporters instantly went quiet. The red-haired reporter turned and franticallymotionedatDantoshutup.

“Imean,doesthecostgoupordown,dependingonhowcloseyouaretofinishingthebuilding?”Danasked.

“Sorry, Ididn’tcatch that.”Piercepeeredover thecrowdbutcouldn’t seeAmyandDan,whowerestandingbehindthetallerreporters.HiseyescuttoArabellaKessler,andhersharpgazerakedthecrowd.

“Anyotherquestions?”heasked.

“Whatabout theworkerwhowaskilled?”Amyasked.“Is itbecauseyou’recuttingcornersonsafety?”

The red-haired journalist gave Amy and Dan a look of admiration. Amy saw himsquarehisshoulders.Heraisedhishand.“Andwheredidhiswidowgetamilliondollars,whenhedidn’thavelifeinsurance?Wasshepaidoff?”

“Caretocommentonthat?”someoneelseyelled.

Pierce blinked once. Twice. His smile didn’t wobble. He swiveled towardArabellaKessler.

ShemovedforwardquicklyasPiercedisappearedbehindtheredcurtain.“We’reoutoftime!”shecalledcheerily.“Somethinghascomeup,andMr.Piercemustleaveus.I’llconductthetour.”

Amycalledout,“Hey,whataboutthephotoop?”

ThereporterstookupthequestionandbeganshoutingatArabellaKessler.AmyandDanquicklymovedforwardandsteppedbehindthecurtain,lookingforPierce.

“Therehegoes,”Amywhispered.

Just behind a concrete column, they saw Pierce picking his way around a pile ofstackedwoodflooring.

Maneuveringaroundpailsandtoolsandrollsofinsulation,theytrackedPierceashemovedthroughthebuilding.Theycouldseethathewasheadingtowardelevatorsontheeastsideofthebuilding.

“Mr.Pierce!”Amyyelled,runningtowardhim.“Wehaveaquestion!”

Heturned,hissmilefrozeninplace.Amysawsomethingflickeracrosshisfacewhenhesawher:recognition.

Heknowswhoweare.

Andthenasecond,morestartlingthoughtashisgrayeyesstayedonherface.

Hehatesme.

“Andwhowouldyoube?”heasked.

“Youknowwhoweare,”Amyanswered.“AmyandDanCahill.Thekidsyou’vebeentormentinginyourmediaoutlets.”

“Idon’thaveanythingtodowiththecontentinmymagazinesandwebsites,”Piercesaid.“That’swhattheThirdAmendmentisallabout,afreepress.”

“First Amendment,” Amy replied, and noted two spots of red on his cheeks at hercorrection.“Andfreedomofthepressmeansthatthegovernmentcan’tcensorthepress.Itdoesn’tmean that youcan’t forbidyour employees fromwriting sensational anduntruestoriesjusttosellpapers.”

“But that’s my job, selling papers, little lady,” Pierce said. “And magazines, andwebsite content. But if you’re upset about something, I suggest you contact our pressoffice.Itwillmakeitswaytotherightperson.”

“You’retherightperson,”Dansaid.“You’retheboss.”

Twosecurityguardsappeared,wearingbaseballcapsandtintedglasses.AmyandDanhadn’theardthemapproach,buttheretheywere,assolidandunyieldingastheconcretepillarsaroundthem.

“Hey,fellas,”Piercesaidtothem.“Gosh,thisiswhyweleadatour,kids.Youcan’tgowanderingoffbyyourself.Constructionsitesarehazardousplaces.Accidentscanhappensoeasilywhenyou’resixty-fivestoriesupinaskyscraperwithoutwalls.EspeciallywiththetwoCahilldaredevils!Wewouldn’twantyoutogosplatnow,wouldwe?”

Amy looked at him, startled. Could he be threatening them? Impossible. Hewas abusinessman.Amajormediacelebrity…

“Showthemthewayout,gentlemen,”Piercetoldthesecurityguards.“Therightwayout,thatis.”

Dandoubledoverandsneezedrepeatedly.WhilePiercebackedup,anexpressionofdistasteonhisfaceathisexplosions,Dandippedhishandintotheplasticbucketnexttohimandthenshoveditinhispocket.

Piercebarkedatthesecuritygoons,“Whyareyoustillstandinghere?”

OneoftheguardsroughlyshovedDanforward.“Move.”

Theguardsledthemintheoppositedirectionfromthereporters.Amy’smindraced.Somethingwasn’tright.Whyweren’ttheybeingledbacktothegroup?

Theywerebeingcorralledtowardthefarendofthebuilding.Theyemergedfromthedrywallcorridor,andAmysuddenlyhadadirectlineofsighttoPierce.Hestoodstabbingtheelevatorbuttonrepeatedly.FromthispositionAmycouldalsoseewhatPiercecouldnot — the crowd of reporters hurrying toward him, Arabella scurrying behind them,wavingherarms.Piercecouldn’tseethem…buthecouldhearthem.Shecouldtellbythefrownofirritationonhisface.

Ithappenedinaflash.AmyblinkedasPiercegrabbedanearbyhangingrope,swungout over empty air, thendroppedonto the partially completedpedestrian bridge a storybelow.Hequicklywalkedoverit,sixty-fourstoriesabovethecity,thensteppedintotheskeletonofthebuildingnextdooranddisappeared.

Whatwasthat?Didthemanjustdroptenfeet,landonagirder…andtightropeacrossit?

“Moveit,sister,”oneoftheguardssaid,nudgingheralong.

Theguardspushedthempastacurtainofthickplasticsheeting.Heretheconstructionwasn’tasfaralongasontherestofthefloor.Girdersstretchedoutintoemptyair.Therewasnodrywallatall, justaconcretefloor.Constructionequipmentsurroundedthem.Apieceofyellowtapeactedasaflimsybarrierbetweenthemandopenair.

“Oops, no elevator.Guesswemade amistake,” one of the guards said. “So you’regoingtohavetotakethefastwaydown.”

“Areyoukidding?”Danasked.

“Idon’tknow,”theguardsaidwithaterriblesmile.“AmI?”

Thetwoguardsherdedthemclosertotheedge.AmyandDanhadtobackup.

“C’mon,youkidsaredaredevils,right?”theotheronesaid.“Let’sseewhatyoucando.Ifyouwalkoutonthegirders,youcanalmostmakeittothebuildingnextdoor.Ifyoujumpfarenough.”Hechortled.

Theywereclosetotheedgenow.Amydidn’twanttolookdown,butshecouldn’thelpit.Shecouldseetinypeoplemovingbelow,carsandbusesthatlookedlikethemetaltoysDanusedtoleavescatteredonthefloorwhenhewasfive.

“You’rescaringme!”Dansuddenlysaid.Heshuddered,bothhandsinhispockets.“I-I’mafraid…ofheights!NO!NO!”hescreamed.

“Shutup,kid!”

Danmovedinaflash.Hishandcameoutofhispocketandhethrewballbearingsonthefloorbetweenthem.

Amydidn’tneedtobeprompted.SheknewwhatDanwasplanningwithoutonewordbeing spoken. She andDan ran in the opposite direction from thewildly rolling balls.Theyheard the cursesof theguards as theywindmilled their arms, trying tokeep theirbalanceandrunatthesametime.Bothofthemcrashedtothefloor.

AmyandDanknewtheyhadonlysecondsbefore theguardswereafter themagain.Theypushedthroughthethickplasticsheetandtookoff.

“Thisway,”Dansaid,dartingdownahallway.

Amy followedwithout question. She knew that her brother’s photographicmemoryhadstoredthelayoutofthefloorinhishead.Hewasprobablyleadingthembacktotheelevator they’d taken to get up here, in hopes that Arabella had finally corralled thereporters.Therewouldbesafetyinacrowd.

Theyheardtherustleoftheplasticscreen,thenthethump-thumpofrunningfootsteps.Theguardswouldbeonthematanymoment.

ThenAmyheardthewhirroftheelevator.Danhadalreadyspurtedtowardthesound.

“Theretheyare!Getthem!”Theyheardthegutturalvoicesbehindthem,butitwouldwastetimetoturn.Theyonlyhadsecondsnow.

Theyburstoutof thecorridor just in time to see the tophalfof the reporters in theelevatorasitdescendedpastthefloor.

“Ouronlychance,”AmysaidtoDan.“C’mon.”

Theybothracedtowardthedescendingcageandjumped.

Amy felt the cage rattle as she landed. Dan landed next to her. Arabella Kesslerscreamed,andoneofthereportersshouted,“HEY!”

AmyandDandropped to theirknees and laced their fingers through themesh.Thechillywindthreatenedtoblowthemoffthetopofthecage.

Amylookeddownthroughthewirecage.Arabella’sangryfacestaredupather.

“Goingdown?”Danasked.

“That went well,” Nellie said, fiercely turning the wheel as she exited the highway atAttleboro.“Justareminder:Oneissupposedtorideintheinsideofanelevator.Areyoubothinsane?”

“Wewerejusttryingtogetaway!”Danprotested.“Youshouldhaveseenthoseguys!Theyweretryingtokillus!”

“Orscareus,”Amysaid.

“Scareustodeath,”Dansaid.“Wecouldhavebeenpancakedonthepavement!”

Amyshookherheadinfrustration.“WhydidthisguyPiercetargetus?It’snotjusttosellpapers.”

“Herecognizedus,Amy,”Dansaid.“Somehowheknowsus.Didyouseethewayhelookedatyou?”

Amyshiveredassherememberedthatgaze, icegrayandunrelenting.“Hehatesme.AndInevermethimbeforetoday!”

“Whoa,duckdown!”Nelliesuddenlyyelled.“Thevulturesarestillcircling.”

AphalanxofcarsstillwaitedoutsidetheCahillgates.Nelliegunnedthemotorasthegatesswungopenandzoomedinside.Assoonas theywereoutofsight,AmyandDanpoppedupagain.

Danheldout his phone toAmywith a groan.Therewas a picture on theExploiterwebsiteofDanandAmybalancingontopoftheelevatorcage.Theyweregrimacingfromtheeffortofholdingon,butitlookedliketheyweresmiling.TheheadlinewasCAHILLCUTUPSENDANGERBOSTONPEDESTRIANSFORKICKS.

Amydroppedherhead inherhands.“This isanightmare.Andwedon’tevenhaveoneclue.Thisguypoppedupoutofnowhere.”

“Everybodyhasahistory,”Dansaid.Hedugintohispocket.“Andoneofthesecurityguardsdroppedthis.”Heheldupascrapofpaper.

“It’sa ticket fromtheNewJerseyTurnpike,”Amysaid,examining it.“Thatdoesn’ttellusmuch.”

“Well,wecanplacethemontheroadatacertaindateandtime,”Dansaid.“MaybePiercewassomeplacesouthofNewJerseyonthatdate,andwecangothereanddosomesnooping.”

“Worthatry,”Amysaid.

Nellie’sphonepingedassheunlockedthebackdoor.“Ihopethat’sPony,”shesaid.

“Didshesaysomethingaboutapony?”DanaskedAmyastheyshruggedoutoftheirjackets.

“Ourtechguy,”Nelliemurmuredasshereadatext.“He’sgettingbacktomeonmyphonehacking.Ponyisfast.”

“Didshesayshehasafastpony?”Danasked.“Whyarewethelasttoknow?”

As Nellie punched in a number, Dan and Amy headed up the back stairs to thecommunications center.When they turned the computers on, a red alert flashed.At thesametimetheyheardthesoundofrunningfeetandNellieburstintotheroom.

“Shutdownthesystem!”sheshouted.“GotoLevelFive!”

QuicklyDanranthroughthekeystrokes.Thesystemwasdesignedtoshutdownandreboot,asthoughtherehadbeenapowersurge.Butalltheinformationontheharddriveswould bewiped and replaced—names ofCahill contacts, addresses, safe houses— itwouldallbefalse,withenoughnuggetsoftruthtofooleventhewiliesthacker.Whoeverbreachedthenetworkwouldn’tknowthattheCahillswereontothem.

Nellie leaned over Dan’s shoulder as the screen went black, then immediatelyrebooted.

“Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,butPonysaidtoshutitdown.”

JustthenAmy’sphonebuzzed,andshecheckedthenumber.ShelookedinquisitivelyatDan.“It’sMr.Smood,”shesaid,namingMcIntyre’slawpartner.

“It’sokay,youcantalkonyourphone,youjustcan’tusee-mail,”Nelliesaid.

“Amy,isthatyou?”TheusualcalmtonesofHenrySmoodwererattled.“Ihavesomeunsettling news for you. It appears that you are under federal investigation forembezzlement.Theyhaveasearchwarrant.Youhavetoletthemin,butdon’tansweranyquestionsuntilIgetthere.Notone,doyouhearme?”

“Wehaven’tdoneanythingwrong!Wehavenothingtohide.”

Mr.Smoodclearedhisthroat.“Ah.Andinnocentpeoplenevergotojail.”

“Okay,Igetyourpoint,”Amysaid.“We’llkeepourmouthsshut.”

“Allright,holddownthefort.I’monmyway.”

“Butyoujusthadsurgery—”

“Checkedmyselfout.Idon’tneedmyappendix.Butyouneedalawyer.”

Amy heard the sharp click of the receiver. She’d never heardMr. Smood sound sounnerved.

Fromuphere,theknockingwasn’tveryloud,butitwasinsistent.

Danrantothewindow.“They’rehere,”hesaid.

The agents were polite but efficient. They swarmed over the house, paying particularattention to the command center. It was clear that they were both impressed with andsuspicious of the complexity of the computer system. They unplugged and carriedeverythingout.

Mr.SmoodshowedupandsatwithDanandAmyatthekitchentablewhiletheagentscarried files and computers out of the house. Nellie made tea and brought out thecinnamonrollsshe’dmadethatmorning.Noonecouldeat.

Acold,hardrainbegantofall.Finally,theagentsleft.Meanwhile,thepresenceoftheblackfederalvehicleshadinflamedthepaparazzi.Theyhaddaredtoclimboverthestonewallandweresetuponthelawn,busilyfilmingandsnappingphotographs.

“We’reprisoners,”Amysaid,watchingbehindacurtainasthephotographerssnappedphotosoftheagentscarryingoutboxesandequipment.

Thefederalagentsgotintotheircarsanddroveaway.Mr.Smoodleft,promisingtogetto thebottomof it.Sooneven thedie-hardpaparazzigaveupandhurried to their cars.Onebyone,thecarsdroveaway.

Amypickedataroll,smashingthecrumbswithherfinger.Shecouldn’trememberatime when she’d felt so helpless. Without their computers, they couldn’t follow theirslenderlead.

Someonebeatarhythmicthreeknocksonthebackdoor.Theybarelyhearditovertherain.Cautiously,Nellieopenedit.

Aboyofaboutnineteenstumbledin,hisankle-lengthraincoatdrippingriversontothekitchenfloor.Hishairwaspulledbackinastringyponytail,andhisblack-framedglasses

were steamed. He looked like a cross between a drowned badger and the Loch Nessmonster.HeheldouthisarmslikeFrankenstein,blindedbyhisfoggyglasses.

“Uh,Nellie?”

Nellie reached over and took off his glasses. She polished them on her shirt. “YoumustbePony.”

“How’dyouknow?”

“I’m a genius,” she said, handing them back to him. “Come on, sit. I’ll get you atowel.ThisisAmyandDan.Guys,thisisPony—ourtechadviser.”

“Ipreferdigitalcowboy,”Ponysaid.

“Youtwohavenevermet?”Amyasked.

“Justonline,”Ponysaid,shrugging.“I’mnotananalogperson.”

“Haveaseat,pardner,”Nellietoldhim,tossinghimseveraldishtowels.Ashewipedhimself down, she turned back toAmy andDan. “He set up our system and has beenmaintainingiteversince.Andapparently,wehaveaproblem.”

“Mondoproblemo,”Ponysaid.Hislong,mournfulfacegavehimthelookofahounddog,andwhenhelickedhislipswhilelookingatthecinnamonrolls,theresemblancewascomplete.

Amypushedtheplatetowardhim.“Helpyourself.”

Hegrabbedarollandfinisheditintwobites.“Okay.Yourlossageisoffthecharts,butthereishope.Icanbuildthesystemback—it’sjustgoingtotaketime.ThereforeIhavebroughttoyou”—heopenedhisraincoat,revealingalargeinnerpocket—“thisbaby,”he said, slidingout a small netbook. “It’swhistle-clean.And”—he reached inside thedeep inner pocket again — “I programmed new smartphones. These are alreadyencrypted,soyoucansendmessages,butevenIcan’tguaranteecompletesafety,sodon’tpass anything really crucial until I get a handle on who’s targeting you.” He poppedanother roll in hismouth. “Whoever the hacker dude is, he’s a stealthmachine.Megawattage.Alongwiththeserolls,bytheway.”

“Whatcanyoutellabouthim?”Nellieasked.

“Hewasabletoinvadeasystemdesignedbyme.Thatnarrowsitdowntomaybetenpeopleontheplanet.”

“Modestmuch?”Danasked.

“Dude,there’snomodestyinhackery.Areyougoingtoeatyourroll?”

Danpushedovertheplate.

Ponystoodwiththerollhalfwayoutofhismouth.“Now.Letmeseethesystem.”

“Youcan’t.Federalagentsjusttookitoutanhourago.”

“Oh,man.Seriously?”Ponycrashedbackintohischair.“Thisissobletcherous!”Heshuddered.“Okay,reboot…handoveryouroldphones.Imight—might,I’msaying—beabletotrackthebreak-inthroughthem.Inmylineofwork,ifyouthinksomethingisimpossible,itis.Untilyoudecideit’spossibleandyoudoit.”

Amy,Dan,andNelliepushedovertheirphones.Hedumpedtheminhisinsidepocket.Thenhedumpedtherestoftherollsintohisoutsidepocketandstood.“Adios,amigos,”hesaid.Hetrompedtothedoor,openedit,anddisappearedintotheblackrain.

DanstaredafterPony.“Ourfateisinthehandsofthatguy?”

“He’soff-the-chartssmart,”Nelliesaid,butevenshesoundeduncertain.

Amysat,thinkinghard.“Ifyouthinksomethingisimpossible,itis,”shesaid.“Untilyoudecideit’spossible.Thenit’spossible.Isn’tthatwhathejustsaid?”

“Soundedlikeit,”Dansaid.“Ifyouaddhalfacinnamonrolltoit.”

The sense of unease that had beengnawing at her suddenly grew into sheer horror.Informationflashed.Connectionsclicked.Oneimpossibleconnectionafteranother.

“Amy?”Nellietouchedherarm.“Areyouokay?Youlooklikeyou’regoingtofaint.”She stood up and put her hand on Amy’s neck. “Put your head between your knees.Breathe,kiddo.”

“No.”Amy’svoicewasmuffledbecauseherheadwasnowbetweenherknees.Theterribletruthwasstaringherintheface.Somethingshedidn’tevenwanttoglimpse, letaloneconfront.

SheshookoffNellie’shandandstood.“Itcan’tbe!”shesaid.“Itjustcan’tbe,but…”Hervoicetrailedoff.“…Ithinkhedidit.Somehow…”

“What?”Danasked.“You’refreakingusout,dude.”

Amytookadeepbreathandfacedthem.

“Piercehastakentheserum!”

Whathappenswhenyourworstnightmarehasjustcometrue?

Amycouldn’tthinkforaminute.Couldn’tbreathe.Thethoughtthattheserumcouldbeouttherewastooterrifying.

Aserumthatcouldmakeonepersonall-powerful.J.RutherfordPierce.Someonewithnoscruplesatall…

…couldbecomethemostpowerfulpersonintheworld.

Amy’seyeswentwidewithhorror.

He’salreadywellonhisway.

That’swhyhetargetedus.

Becausewe’retheonlyoneswhocanexposehim.

Canstophim…

“Amy?”Nelliegrippedthetableedge.“You’rescaringus.Piercecouldn’thavetakentheserum.It’simposs—”

“No!”Amysmackedherhanddownonthetable.Itwassuchanunexpectedgesturethat Dan and Nellie both jumped. “Just listen. There are four branches of the CahillsbesidesMadrigals.Fourseparatesetsofabilities.Dan, rememberhowPierceswungoffthebuildingandhit thatpedestrianbridge?Howdoesamiddle-agedguydo that?Whatdiditremindyouof?”

“ATomas,”Dansaid.Thebranch, theyknew, thathadacceleratedphysicalpowers.Heshookhishead.“But—”

Amyshookherheadimpatiently,unwillingtolisten.Shehadtomakethemsee.“And,Nellie—rememberwhatwesaid—thathisrisetofamejustdefiedanysenseoflogic?He fails at one thing after another, and then in less than a year he rises to the top.Heleveragedallthesebuyoutsandgobbledupallthesecompaniessofast…andgotinwithpoliticiansandpowerbrokers….”

“Likeastrategist.ALucian,”Nelliesaid.“Okay,but—”

“Andhoweveryarticlementionshisout-of-the-boxthinking,andhowcharmingheis—hemanagestocharmmillionsofpeoplewithouteverlettingsomeonetriphimup!LikeaJanus!AndnowPony tellsus thatourabsolutely impenetrable fortressofacomputersystemisbreached.”

“Ekat,”Dansaid.“Butwe’veseenwhat theserumdoes.WhenIsabelKabratookit,shedidn’tlooklikeanormalhuman.Shewassortof…glowing.”

“But,Dan, thinkabout it.Piercewasn’tglowing,buthe looked…Idon’tknow…enhanced.Didyounoticehowhisskinwassortofgolden?”

“Faketan,”Nelliesaid.

“No.”Amyshookherheadfirmly.“Iremembernoticinghowthelightsjustbouncedoffhimwhenhetookthepodium.Buttherewerenolightson.Andif it istrue, therestmakessense—whyhetargetedusinthefirstplace.Whyhe’smakinguslooklike…likeidiotic socialites. Becausewhowould listen to us if we tried to expose him? But nowmaybehe’sgoingevenfurther—hewantstoscareus.Orkillus.”AmyturnedtoDan.“When those guards told us towalk out on those girders… I think theywere serious.Don’tyou?”

Dangulpedandnodded.“Ido.”

“Amy,Iseewhyyou’resuspicious,butyou’reforgettingadetail,”Nelliesaid.“Thereisnoserum.Anywhere in theworld.We’vemadeabsolutely sureof that.And theonlyonewhoknowstheformulaisDan.”

“Iknow.”

Danbackedawayastep.Shesawpanicinhiseyes.

“Ididn’ttellanyone!”

“I know that,” Amy said. “But you did assemble it.” Six months ago.When he’dthoughtitwastheonlywaytosavetheworld.

Amy took adeepbreath.Shedidn’twant it to be true.Shedidn’twant to trace theserumbacktoDan.Ifhewasresponsiblefortheserumgettingout,theguiltcouldcrushhim.Shecouldseethetelltalespotsofredonhischeeksthatmeanthewasgettingupset.

“I know it’s not your fault, Dan,” Amy added quickly. “I know that. But if theimpossiblehappened—iftheserumformulagotoutsomehow—wehavetofigureouthow.TherecouldbesomerandomCahillouttherewhofoundit….”

“Unlikely,”Nelliesaid.

Suddenly,Dancollapsedonthefloor,hisheadinhishands.“No,”hesaid,hisvoicemuffled.“Itmustbeme.Somehow.”

Helookedupatthem,tearsinhiseyes.“Dothemath.Ifabricatedtheserumsecretlyaboutsixmonthsago.That’srightwhenPiercebeganhisclimbtopower.”

“Coincidence,”Nelliesaid,buthervoicesoundedshaky.

AmygotdownonthefloornexttoDan.Sheputherhandonherbrother’sarm.“Tellmewhathappenedinthatlab,”shesaid.She’dneveraskedhimfordetails.Sheknewhehaddeeplyregrettedwhathe’ddone.

Dan’s voice shook. “I found all the ingredientsmyself. And I had heard about ourcousin Sammy Mourad — some sort of genius biochemist postdoctoral student atColumbiaUniversity.I-Icontactedhimandaskedhimtomixupsomethingforme.”

He wiped at his cheeks. “But I took all these precautions! I’m not stupid. I gaveSammysomeof the ingredients,butnotall.Only thestuff thathad tobedone ina lab.ThenItookmyownvialandmixedthefinalversionmyself.”

“Where?”Amyasked.

“InSammy’s lab.But I took thedosewithme!Therewasa tinybit leftover,and Ithrewitdownthesink.Thereisnowayanybodycouldhavefiguredouttheformula!NotevenSammy.”

Amy shook her head. “There’s no other way. Sammy has to be the key. You dideverythingright,Dan,butsomehow…”

“But even if somehow, some way, Sammy found out the formula, which I don’tbelieve—whywouldhepasstheformulaon?”Danasked.“He’saCahill.”

“Yeah,andwe’veseenwhattowersofintegrityCahillscanbe,”Amysaid,withaliftofaneyebrow.

Nellieslidoffherchairandlandedonthefloornexttothem.“Ifit’sreallyoutthere…”shewhispered.Shecouldn’tfinishthesentence.

The three of them looked at each other. The horror they felt was reflected in eachother’seyes.

Nellieswallowed.“WehavetosendoutaCahillalert.Weneedhelponthis.”

“Notyet,”Amyinsisted.“Wedon’tknowwhatwe’redealingwithyet.FirstwehavetotalktoSammy.Inperson.”Sheglancedattheclock.“Ifweleavenow,wecanbetherebyelevenP.M.”

Nellie stood. “We’re on Level Five alert, remember? If we leave the house, it’sEndgame.Grabyourgear.”

TheyhadestablishedtheEndgamestrategysoonafterreturninghomefromtheVesperbattle. If ever they felt in real danger, they had to be prepared to go into hiding.Theirbackpackswerealreadypackedwiththeessentials,andtheyhadmoneybeltsandpassportslingstowearundertheirshirts.

“Chancesarewe’llbeback.Butbettersafethansorry,”Nelliesaid.Shewentintothepantry,wherethegearwasstowed.Shebroughtthepacksandbeltsbackandhandedthemover.

Silently, they suited up. The word Endgame echoed in Amy’s head. This was theworst.Everythingtheyfeared.Piercewaswillingtokillthemtogetwhathewanted.

Andwhatisthat?Amywondered.Ifhehadallthepowerintheworld,whatwouldhedo?

SomewhereintheAustralianoutback

Theprefabhousingwasdesignedtobetakendownwithinminutes.Insidetheflexibleskinstretched over aluminum rods were rudimentary sleeping quarters but state-of-the-arttechnology.Satellite-equippedphones, computers, tablets.Emergencygenerators.Andaboxofthermonucleardevices.

Thedust swirled around threemenas theywalked fromamilitaryhelicopter to thefirst building. The heat was a blunt force, bouncing off the flat, scorched land andslammingagainstexposedskin.

Theshort,muscledmanwitharedbeardwasflankedbythetwotallermen.Oneofthemwore sunglasses and a shoulder holsterwith an automaticweapon.Theotherwastall,lanky,andkeptnervouslypushinguphisglasseswithasweatyfinger.

Thesilver-hairedmanwiththeHollywoodgoodlookswasalreadyonthescreen.

“You’relate,”hespokeasthethreemencameintocameraview.

“We just exploded a thermonuclear device,Mr.Pierce,” themanwith the redbeardsaid.“Ithinkwe’reallowedalittleleeway.”

“Idon’tgive leeway,Mr.Atlas.Especiallywhen itcomes to thermonucleardevices.Results?”

The nervous-looking man pushed up his glasses. “I’ve sent all the data. Seismicactivitylog,radiationlevels,impactcalculations,specmodels…”

“Anylocalreactions?”

“Severalreportsofaflashinthesky,earthquake…ItmadethepaperinPerth—”

“Wetookcareofit,”Atlasinterrupted.“Asfarasthepublicknows,itwasameteoriteimpact.”

“Governmentinvestigation?”

“We’lltakecareofthat,too.That’swhatyoupayusfor.”Atlassmiledwithouthumor.

BackinhisofficeinBoston,Pierceconcealedhisexhilaration.Theplanwasworking!He’d found thegroupand investigated them thoroughly.Atlaswasa formermercenary.He’d developed a global business of testing and selling nuclearweapons.He’d boughtvarious testing sites around theworld— roughly a half-million acres in the outback, acoupleofuninhabitedPacific islands,andprobablysomesitesPiercedidn’tknowabout—andprovidedone-stop service for roguegovernments, terrorists, andvisionaries likePierce.

“So you keep theweapons until I sendword,” Pierce continued. “And you can getthemwhereIneedthem?”

“Anywhereintheglobe.”

“Theevidence…”

“Willbeplanted.Relax,Mr.Pierce.We’reheretoserve.”

“I’llbeintouch.”

Piercecuttheconnectionandwalkedtothewindow.

Hewasalmostthere.Thelastpiecewasinplace.Yearsofplanningcamedowntothis,andnowthingswouldmovefast.

The thingwas, itwas remarkablyeasy to start aworldwar.Historyhad taughthimthat. It just took strategy and enough nerve to order several simultaneous nuclearexplosions in key cities around the globe. Plant some evidence, and the next thing youknow,governmentsstartedaccusing.Startedmobilizing.

Aspresident,hecouldescalatethewar.Andwheninvasionseemedtothreatenandthegratefulpeople looked tohim tosave them,hewould takecompletecontrol.Theworldwouldbeghimtotakeabsolutepower,theywouldbesograteful.

Andthen,hewouldtakeoverthebrokenworldandrebuildit.Soon,onlythosewithabsolute loyaltywouldbeable toenjoy thegood things in life.Housing, transportation,information.Piercerswouldbethepowerful,andalltheworld’sricheswouldgotothem.Theworthyones.

Onlyoneproblemremained.Noonecouldknowabouttheserum.Noonecouldfindoutthesourceofhispower.

Once,thefactthatthetwoCahillsmanagedtooutsmarthisguardswouldhaveruffledhim.Nomore.

Using hismedia empire to set them up had been a brilliant stroke.Now the publicthought they were silly socialites. Irresponsible daredevils. Accidental deaths wouldn’tevenbeinvestigated.Afewheadlines,anditwouldbeover.

He thought back to seeing the girl up close.Her hairwas the reddish brown of anautumnleaf…soclosetotheshadehermother’shadbeen.Shehadthesamecurvetoherupperlip.

When he saw her in person, it was like seeing a ghost. A ghost in a nightmare ofshame.JustrememberingHopeCahillmadehisbloodrise.Thegirlnotonlylookedlikeher,shewasaknow-it-all likeHopehadbeen.Seeingherhadmadehimwant tosmashsomething,killsomething….

Yes,thegirllookedsomuchlikehermother.

Hesmiled.Soonthey’dberestingsidebyside.

NewYorkCity

Darknessfellas theydrove towardNewYorkCity.Thewindshieldwipersmarked theirprogress with a steady whish, whish. Dan sat in the back, looking out at a blurredlandscape.Witheverymile,theguiltstabbedhimmoreacutely.

Iftheserumwaslooseontheworld…itwashisfault.

IfSammyMouradhadsoldtheformula…itwashisfault.

Myfault,myfault,myfault.

Whish,whish,whish.

Hewasstaringdownatunnelofhorror.

IfPiercereallyhadtheserum…

…themostdestructiveitemknowntohumanity…

…Myfault,myfault,myfault.

Whish,whish,whish.

Ican’tdothisanymore,Danthought.

DanhadtextedSammyfromthecartoaskifhewasworkinglateandifDancouldbringhimapizza.Thereturningtextwasonlyoneword:

Sammy was waiting outside the chemistry building on the Columbia Universitycampus.Hestoodleaningagainstastonewall,notcaringaboutthedrizzle.Hislongish,

thick black hair was stirred by the breeze, and his gray sweater was pushed up hisforearms.Hehadastraightnose,acurvinghalfsmile,andthickdarkbrowsover liquidblackeyes.

“Oh.My.Goodness,”Nelliesaidinthreeshortburstsunderherbreath.“Dan,yousaidhewasageniusEkat.Youdidnotsayhewasaworkofart.”

“What?”Danturnedaround.EvenAmywasstaring.“Oh,yeah.Sorry.Ididn’tthinkthehandsomepartwasrelevant.”

“It’salwaysrelevant,kiddo,”Nelliesaid.

Sammycameforward,smiling.“Dan!Youaretheman!Bringingasnacktoastarvinggradstudentcountsforherostatusaroundhere.”

DanhandedSammythepie.HequicklyintroducedNellieandAmy.

SammyswipedthemintothebuildingwithhisIDcard,andtheyfollowedhimupstairstohislab.Itwasneatandorderly,withstacksoffilefoldersandnotebooks.Apyramidoforangesodacanshadbeenconnectedwithpurpleducttapeandsatonawidewindowsill.Sammypushedsomewheeledstoolstowardthemandsweptasidethefolderstoplopthepizza on the lab table. Then he reached inside a file drawer and came out with paperplates,napkins,oregano,crushedredpepper,andgarlicsalt.

“Theworks,”hesaidwithsatisfaction.“Youseethegarlicsalt?Idon’tcookwithit—I’drathercontrolthegarlicandsaltseparately.Butforpizza,yougottagowithit.It’saclassic.”HeputslicesonplatesandhandedthemtoAmyandNellie,alongwithnapkins.

“Word,”Nelliesaid,reachingfortheredpepperflakes.“Nobodygetsthataboutgarlicsalt.Whatdoyouliketocook?”

“Well, I startedoutwithEgyptian food,”he said, “becauseofmygrandmother.MyparentsareEgyptian,but theydon’t cook.She really taughtme.Now that I liveonmyown,I’vebranchedout.IjusttookaVietnamesecookingclass,anditwasawesome.”

Nelliedroppedherpizza.“Shutup!Vietnameseismyfavorite!”

Dankickedher.They’dcometofindoutifSammyhadbetrayedthem.IfNelliestartedtalkingaboutcooking,they’dneverbeabletogetawordinedgewise.

ShepickedapieceofcheeseoffherpizzaandateitwhilegazingintoSammy’sdarkeyes.DanwassurprisedSammydidn’tburstintoflame.Hispizzastayedintheair,inchesfromhismouth,ashegazedbackatNellie.Secondspassed.

Dankickedherharder.

“Actually,” Nellie said, “there’s a reason we’re here. We wanted to ask you somequestions.”

“Fireaway,”Sammysaid.Hissmilewassoopenandamiable thatDanhopedAmywaswrong.Sammycouldn’tpossiblyhavepassedalongtheserumtoanoutsider.

“Sammy,”Dansaid,“doyourememberthatfavoryoudidformelastyear?”

“Sure,”Sammysaid.“Imixedupalittlepotionforyou.”

“WhenIcontactedyou,yousaidyouwouldkeepthesecret.”

Sammylookeduncomfortable.Dan’sheartbegantobeatfaster.

“Weneedtoknowexactlywhathappened,”Amysaid.

Sammyseemedtoswallowhisbiteofpizzawithaneffort.Hewipedhismouthhardwithanapkin.“Thethingis,I’mascientist.Andthenumberonequalityyouneedtobeascientistiscuriosity.”

Dan’svoicecameouthoarse.“Whatdidyoudo?”

“Iworkwithsubstancesthathavetobedisposedofaccordingtoregulations,”Sammysaid.HepointedtoaredboxsittingonthecounterthatsaidHAZARDOUSWASTE.“Onesinkisforwashingup.Onesinkisforchemicals.ThereisatrapinthesinkthatIemptyintothecontainer.”

Dansankback.Theonebiteofpizzahe’dtakenrolledoverinhisstomach.“Ipouredtherestdownthedrain….”

“Intothetrap,”Sammysaid.“SoIhadatinybit.Aresidue.Butitwasenough.”

“Enoughforwhat?”Amyaskedsharply.

“Toexperimenton.”

Nellieletoutabreathshe’dbeenholding.“Oh,no.”

“I’maCahillonbothsides,”Sammysaid.“Mymother isaLucian,myfather isanEkat.Myfatherwaspartoftheleadershipcirclebeforehequit.Heknewabouttheserum,andhetoldmeaboutit,too.SowhenDanCahillwalkedintomylab…Icouldn’thelpbutbecurious.”

“Youreplicatedtheserum?”Amyasked.“Doyourealizehowdangerousthatwas?”

Sammyhelduptwohands.Hiseyespleadedwiththem.“Iknow!Iwasverycareful!IknowIshouldn’thavedoneit!Butthisissupposedtobethemostpowerfulsubstanceinthehistoryofhumanity.SoIcouldn’tresistjustrunningafewsimpletests.Imean,thinkabout it. How does the humanmind reallywork? Is it biology and chemistry or somehybrid we haven’t even named yet? The serum itself brings up so many fascinatingquestions.”

“It does,” Nellie said. “It totally does.” She cleared her throat. “But those aren’tquestionsyouwereallowedtobe,um,asking.”

“Thosearequestionsthat,ifwecouldanswerthem,couldbenefiteveryone,”Sammydeclared, leaningforward intently.“AndthemoreI thoughtabout it, themoreI thoughtaboutall thoseCahilllegendsaboutthephysicalstrengthoftheTomas,andthewaytheLucianmindworks…andhowtheseserumstrainsentwinewithDNA…andIthought,okay,ifIjustrunafewexperiments,maybeIcanfindsomegoodfromthiscrazyserum.What if certainparts couldbe recalibratedand I could lessen the sideeffects,boost theseparateelements,andcustomizeitforwhateverthepersontakingitwouldwantorneed?What if I could eliminate theDNA factor? Justmake it a kind ofmedicine? Just as anexperiment,”headdedquickly.“Thinkaboutit.Therehavebeenmassiveleapsinthefieldof biochemistry sinceGideonCahill’s time. If he knewwhatwe know,whatwould hehavecrafted?Howcouldhehavemadeitsafer?Whatcouldhehavecured?”

“Youcan’tmakeitsafe,”Amysaid.“That’sthewholepoint.It’sadestructivepower!Itcanleadto…terriblethings.”

“Iknowthat,”Sammysaidquickly.“That’swhyIcloseddowntheresearch.”

Amysaggedinrelief.“Youdid?”

“IrealizedprettyquicklythatIwasheadingdownadangerouspath.Ifwe’reabletoartificiallyboostthingslikephysicalprowess,creativity,thepartofthebrainthatcontrolsstrategyandanalysis…well,whowouldcontrol it?Whowoulddecidewhogetswhatstrain?Therearesomethingsthatarebetternotinvented.Imean,thatkindofgoesagainsttheEkatphilosophy,butmymamaraisedmeright.”

“Sammy,webelievethatyoudidn’tmeananyharm,”Amysaid.“Butisthereanywaysomeoneelsecouldhavegottentheirhandsonyourexperiments?”

“Of course not!” Sammy exclaimed. “I know how sensitive this is.My noteswerecodedandbehinda firewallwhile Idid theexperiments,and thenIwiped themwhenIwasdone.Thelabisalwayslocked.AndIalwaysdestroywhateverserumI’vemade.”He

lookedateachoftheirfaces.“Anyway,Gideon’soriginalformula?It’sbasicallyadeathsentence.”

“Adeathsentence?”Amyasked.“Weknewitwasdangerous,but…”

“It’sthewayitreactswiththehumannervoussystem,”Sammysaid.“Itshutsitdown.Itwouldtakeaboutaweekandthen…”

“So,withtheseexperiments,whatexactlydidyoufind?”Nellieasked.

“Iexperimentedwith tinydoses inavarietyoffillers,”Sammysaid.“Nowwehavecentrifuges,automatedanalyzers…machinesandprocedures thatGideoncouldn’tevendreamof.Ibasicallyalteredtheformulainasophisticatedway.”

“Youalteredtheformula?”

“Well,thefirstjobwastomakeitlesstoxic.Iwasabletodothat.”

“Soyourversionisn’tadeathsentence?”

“Idon’tthinkso—butIcan’tsaytherewouldn’tbesideeffects.There’dbenowaytoreallyknowwithoutanimaltesting,andI’mnotgoingtodothat.Iwasable todosomerudimentaryboostingoftheseparatetraitsandthengetitdowntoadailydose—asmalltraceelementofserumsuspendedinaliquid—fruitjuiceworkedwell.Ievenmadefourformula strains for eachbranch:Lucian,Ekat,Tomas, Janus.Thenext stepwouldhavebeenfiguringoutexactlyhowtocombinethemindifferentstrengths.”

“Areyousurethatyoutoldnoone?”Nellieasked.

“I’mpositive,”Sammysaid.

Danclosedhiseyes.Relieffloodedhim.Theleakhadn’tcomefromhim.

Amypickeduphersliceofpizza.

“ExceptforFiske,ofcourse,”Sammysaid.“AndhewasfinewhenIsaidIdidn’tfeelcomfortabledoinganymoreworkonit.Heagreed.”

Amydroppedthepizza.“What?”

“YoumeanourFiske?”Danblurted.

Sammy nodded. “YourUncle Fiske. Tall guy, black jeans, silver hair? I recognizedhimfrommydad’sdescription.Hecametoseeme,oh,aboutfiveorsixmonthsago?HesaidDanhadtoldhimaboutfabricatingtheserum,andheguessedthatIhadfigureditout.

Itoldhimabouttheexperiments.SoheaskedforallmynotesandsaidthattheybelongedintheMadrigalarchive.”

“WhatMadrigalarchive?”Amyasked.“Doyouknowaboutthis,Nellie?Dan?”

Theybothshooktheirheads.

Danswallowed.“What…monthdidyoumeethim?”

“October.”

“FiskewasinrehabtheentiremonthofOctober,”Amywhispered.

Sammy’s voice shook. “Are you telling me that the man I spoke to wasn’t FiskeCahill?”

“Idoubtit,”Dansaid.Hefeltsick.

“ButheknewsomuchabouttheCahills.”Sammylookedpale.

Amylookedatherwatchandjumpedup.“We’vegottotalktoFiske.Rightnow!”

TheCallenderInstitutewasontheUpperEastSideofManhattanneartheriver,inaquietneighborhood of town houses and amber streetlamps. It was like going back in time.Nelliecruisedby, lookingforaparkingspace,butcouldn’t findone.Finally,shepulledintoadriveway,rightinfrontofaDON’TEVENTHINKABOUTPARKINGHEREsign.

“IbetJamesBondneverworriesaboutparking,”shesaid.

They walked into the institute. It was set up like a private home, with thickmulticolored carpets on the polished wood floors and seascapes on the walls. Shadedlampsdiscreetlylitapolishedmahoganydesk,behindwhichsatanolderwomaninanavydress.

“We’dliketoseeouruncle,FiskeCahill,”Amysaid.

“Asyouknow,wedon’thavevisitinghoursperseat the institute,” thewomansaidpolitely.“Butwedon’tallowvisitorsafterteno’clock.”

“It’sveryimportantthatweseehim,”Nelliesaid.“Andweknowhe’sanightowl.”

Thewomansmiledattheminapatronizingway.“I’msurewhateveryouhavetotellyourunclecanwaituntilmorning.”

“Actually,itcan’t,”Dansaid.Hethrewawedon’thavetimeforthislookatAmyandsimplywalkedbythewoman.Amyfollowed.

Thewoman reached for thephone.Nellieputherhandover it, preventingher frompickingitup.

“I’dthinkverycarefullyaboutthat,”shesaidsweetly.“Youhaveachoicehere.YoucanseriouslyjeopardizetheplansfortheGraceCahillwingthatisscheduledtoopenintwoyears.Oryoucanlooktheotherwayforexactlyfiveminutes.”

Theylockedeyes.“IthinkI’llreadmymagazine,”thewomansaid.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” Nellie said.With a flourish, she sat on a tuftedarmchairtowait.

“ThereisaMadrigalarchive,”Fiskesaid.“ButI’venevermetSammyMourad.AndI’veneverbeentotheColumbiacampus.”

Theyhadfoundtheirgreat-unclereadinginbedinapoolofsoftyellowlamplight,hisglassespusheddownonhisnose.Hehadfrowneddeeplywhiletheytoldhimtheirstory,andAmyhadbeenshockedathowmucholderhelooked.Hisskinwassallowandpale,andthelinesaroundhismouthlookeddeeper.

Fiskehadalwaysbeenwiryandstrong,butafterundergoingphysicaltherapyforabadhip,hehadgrownweakerover the fall.Thenwinterhadbrought robusthealth.They’duncrossedtheirfingerswhenhereturnedtohistaekwondoclassesandbegantopaintandcookagain.ButthenhehadfallenillagaininMarch.Nowhelookedoldandtired.Amyfeltfearclutchatherheart.Sheplacedherhandoverhiswhereitrestedontheblanket.

“Areyoufeelingokay,UncleFiske?”Amyasked.

“Justfine.”Hissmilewasreassuring,butAmynoticedhowhishandtrembledashepicked up his water glass. “Dr. Callendar says the physical therapy has been verybeneficial.IthinkI’llbehomenextweek.”Hetookasipofwater.“Weneedtogettothebottomofthis.WeshouldinformalltheMadrigals,callinateam….”

Amyshookherhead.“Notyet.”

“Ifnotnow,when?”Fiskefrownedather.“Youthinkthispersonhastakentheserum.Thiscouldhavedireconsequencesfortheworld,Amy.NottomentionthatyouandDanarenowatarget.”

Amylookedathim,surprised.Heheldupahand.“Yes,Nellietoldme.Assheshouldhave.Don’t treatme likean invalid. IfwhatSammysaid is true, thatmeans thatPiercecouldbe takingadaily,weakerdoseof theserum,but ithasacumulativeeffect.Everyday, he gets stronger.We have to find away to get the serumback…without anyoneknowingwhatitisandwhatitmeans.Thisistheworstthingthatcouldhavehappened.”

Danfadedbackintheroom,hisfaceinshadow.Fiskeglancedoverathim.

“Andit’snobody’sfault,”hesaidfirmly.“NotSammy’s,notDan’s,notanybody’s.Wehaveaverycleveradversary.WemuststopJ.RutherfordPierce.”

“Wewon’tbeabletostophimunlesswefindoutmoreabouthim,”Amysaid.“Ifwesurroundourselveswithpeople,they’lljustbecometargets,too.RightnowheonlyknowsmeandDan,andhewantstostopus.”

FiskelookedatAmyoverhiseyeglasses.“Hewantstokillyou.”

“That’sour risk to take,”Amysaid. “I can’t askothers to sacrifice their safety.Notafter…after…”Hervoicethickened,andshestopped.

FiskelookeddownatAmy’shandonhisarm.Therewasalongsilence.

“Amy,”hesaidwithgreatgentleness,“itisasourceofterriblesorrowtome,asitwastoyourgrandmother,thatyouwerethrustintoallthis.IfIcouldgobackandgiveyouandDananormallife,ifIcouldgivemyownlifeforthat,Iwould.Butyouarewhatyouare.YouareaCahill,theheadoftheCahills.Andyouwillnotachievepeacewiththatuntilyouunderstandsomething.”Hesqueezedherhandandlookedatherhard.“Thisisyourlifenow.Youcandoyourbest, butyoucannotprotect everyoneyou love.Youarenotresponsible for all the lives around you. You are only responsible for your own rightaction.”

“Ihavetoprotectthem,”Amysaid.“Asheadofthefamily,Imust.”

“Tothebestofyourpower,yes.Butthatdoesn’tmeanexcludingthemfromhelpingyou!”

Amysetherjawstubbornly.“Notyet,”shesaid.

Dan’sgazewentbackandforthbetweenFiskeandAmy,thebattleoftwostrongwills.

“Allright,”Fiskesaid.“Thenyouhavetoleavethecountry.Tonight.”

“What?”Danasked.“Thatseemsextreme.”

“No.It’stheonlyway.”Fiskesatupstraighter.“There’ssomethingI’vebeenwaitingtotellyou.Mr.McIntyrehadawill.”

“Iknow,”Amysaid.“HelefteverythingtoHenrySmood.”

“Noteverything.GracelefthimahouseinIreland.Shewantedhimtokeepitreadyforyou.It’scalledBhaileAnois,andnowit’syours.That’swhereyoumustgo.”

Amyfrowned.“HowcanwefightPierceifwe’reinIreland?”

“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’refightingyet,”Fiskesaidurgently.“Youneedtimetodig,investigate…plan.Thecomputersystemisdown.Youcan’tdomuchhereanyway.Andyoumust trustGrace.Her instructionswere very clear.When you had nowhere else toturn,youhadtogothere.”

“But—”

Fiske interrupted Amy’s objection. For a moment he looked like the old Fiske—fierce,powerful,readytospring.“Assoonaswe’resurethesystemisbug-free,you’llgetbackonthenetwork.YoucandoitjustaseasilyfromIrelandasyoucanfromAttleboro.”

Amynoddedslowly.Shehadtoadmitthatwastrue.

Fiskeleanedforward.“I’mgladyouagree.There’saprivateplanewaitingforyouatTeterboroAirportinNewJersey.”

Slowly,Amysmiled.“Asusual,you’rewayaheadofme.”

“Justonesmallstep.”

“Butwhataboutyou?”Danasked,movingforwardoutoftheshadow.“Wedon’twanttoleaveyouhere.”

“This is the safest place I can be,” Fiske said. “This is a world-renownedmedicalfacility.Anyway,nobody’safterme.They’reafteryou.”He turned toAmy.“Dan is theonlyonenowwhoknowstheserumformula.AndwhereDanis,youare.”

AmyandDanexchangedaglance.“Allright,”shesaid.“Wehatetoleaveyou….”

“We’llbetogetheragain,”Fiskepromised.“Untilthen,staysafe.”

When they reached the reception room,Nellie hadgone.Thewoman in thenavydresslookedup.

“Sheranout,”shesaidwithanairofsatisfaction.“Ithinkyou’rebeingtowed.”

AmyandDanpushedthroughthefrontdoor.Nelliewasrunningdownthestreetafteratowtruck.

“Nellie!”Dancalled.

Buthisvoicewasdrownedoutasablackcarsquealedtoastopatthecurb.Twomengotout.Oneofthemflashedabadge.

“Federalagents.You’reunderarrest.”

Theydidn’thavemuchtimeto think.Nelliehaddashedaroundthecornerafter the towtruck.

Ifwegowiththem,Mr.Smoodcangetusoutinamatterofhours,Amythought.Ifwefight,we’llgetlockedup.

Evenasshethoughtthis,theagentswerehustlingthemintothebackseatoftheblackcar.AmyslidovertomakewayforDan.

Thetwoagentssatinthefrontofthecar.Amylookedatthedoor.Therewerenodoorhandles.Thecartookoff.

“What’sthecharge?”Amyasked.

Therewasnoanswer.

Sheleanedforward.“CanIcallmyattorney?”

Noanswer.

Shetookoutherphone.Noservice.

“Theremustbeablockingdeviceinthecar,”Danwhispered.

Where would they be going? Amy wondered. Most of the federal offices weredowntown.ButtohersurprisetheydrovewestthroughCentralParkandthenturnednorthtowardtheBronx.

SheandDanexchangedglances.Somethingdidn’tfeelright.

AmsterdamAvenuewasquiet.Itwaspastoneinthemorningnow.Somepeoplewereonthestreets,walkingquickly,shouldershunchedagainstthechill.Agroupofyoungmenexited a bar, laughing loudly. A shopkeeper walked out and straightened the stacks of

papersoutsidehismarket. It seemed so strange to see street lifegoonwhen theyweretraveling…where?Amyfeltthedoorwithherfingers,searchingforalatch,orawaytoopenthewindow.Therewasnothing.

The car moved through unfamiliar streets, making several turns. Now it cruisedalongside an overgrown park. Amy glimpsed a tower in the distance. The area wasdeserted.Amy’sbloodturnedcold.ItseemedincrediblethattheywerestillinManhattan,andtherewasn’tasoularound.

“Isay,assoonastheyopenthedoor,werunforit,”Danmurmured.

Thecarpulledoverandstopped.Amy’sheartwasnowhammeringsohardagainstherribsithurt.Sheheldontothecarseat,readytospring.Thetwoagentsinthefrontgotout.

Both doors opened simultaneously. They had no chance to run. Theywere grabbedroughlyandpulledfromthecar.Amy’sarmswerepinnednexttohersidesandherwristsheldtogetherbehindherback.

Theywereforcedtomarchonawidepedestrianwalkwayborderedbyshrubs.Theypassedthroughabrickplazaandshesawatoweringarchedbridgeofftoherright.Itwashighandgraceful,halfsteel,halfstone.Therewerenocarlightsonit.Itspannedtheriverandthehighway.

She was marched through the park. The grip on her wrists was so tight she couldalmostfeeltheslenderbonescrunch.ShecouldhearDan’sbreathingbehindher.

Shestillhadn’tseentheirfaces.Butastheypassedunderastreetlight,shecaughtsightoftheagent’sprofile.

Itwasthesmilingmanfromthecemetery.

Fearchilledher.Thoughshekeptherheadlevel,hereyesdartedaround,searchingforan escape. The narrow path was surrounded by steep slopes tangled with brush. Shestrainedherears,butallsheheardwasafainthumoftrafficfromfaraway.

Theywereshovedroughlydownasteepstairway.Thetowerloomedabove.Throughthegloomshewasjustabletomakeoutasign.

Amyfeltsweatdampenthesmallofherback.Shewassuddenlyawareofeverything— the coolness of the breeze, the shape of the leaves, the heavy sound of her guard’sfootsteps. She tried to think of away to get away, but the gripwasmerciless and shecouldn’t leaveDan.Hewasbeingpulled so fasthis feetdraggedon thepavement.Herthroatclosedup.Herguardpushedherroughlyforward.

Thepath turned,andshesaw thebridge likea strangeapparition.Halfa steel span,halfstonearches,itrosehundredsoffeetabovetheHarlemRiverandthehighwaysnexttoit.Sheknewthatwaswheretheywereheading.

Twomassiveblackmetaldoorsguardedthebridge.Theyweresplashedwithgraffitiandpadlocked together,aheavychain looped through thehandles.ThesignreadENTRYPROHIBITED.Shefeltamomentaryrelief,butitendedwhenherguardusedhisotherhandtoripthechainfromthedoor.Shedidn’thavetimetoregistertheshockofthatbeforeshewaspushedthroughandontothebridge.

Sheheard the doors clang shut behind her. Pushing andpulling themnow, themenforcedthemforward.

Underothercircumstances,shewouldhavenotedthattheviewwasbreathtaking.Thelights ofManhattanwere tossed across the velvet night.The highwayswere ribbons oflight.

“You’vegotachoice.”Thevoicewaslowatherear.Afterallthatexertion,hewasn’tevenbreathinghard.“Youcangooverandlandintheriver,orthehighway.Theriverisgonnafeellikeconcreteanyway.”

The other one snorted a laugh.Hewas short andmuscular,with a blond buzz cut.“Youseehowniceweare?We’relettingyouchoose.”

She sawDan’s chin shaking.Thenhegrittedhis teeth. “Acoupleof choirboys,”heforcedout.

Amywantedsobadlytoreachouttohim,griphishand.

“Yeah,squirt,”theshortermanholdingDansaid.“Andyou’reacoupleofdaredevils,horsingaroundonthebridge.Icanseetheheadlinenow.”

“Choose,orwe’llchooseforyou.”Themanholdingherwristsgrinned.Amysawtheflashofperfectwhiteteeth.Shesawhimupclose,thetextureofhispores,theshapeofhiseyebrows,hisears.Hewassomeoneshewouldn’tlooktwiceatonthestreet.Someoneinlineforcoffee,orwaitingforabus,ortakinghisdogforawalk.Whatkindofaperson,shethought,wouldthrowtwochildrenoffabridgelikeitwasallinaday’swork?

Theydraggedthemtotherailing.Theriverwasadarkoilychannel.Thestreakofcarlightsontheroad, thelightsof thelowbuildings, thefaintsoundofacarhorn—Amyhearditallwiththesamestrangeclarity.Herteethwerechattering.Shelookedstraightupattheluminoussky.

“River,”shesaid.

Theyreleasedtheirwrists.ShegrabbedDan’shandatlast.Shefeltthetextureofhisskin,hisslightfingers.Thefeelofthemmadetearsstinghereyes.Herbabybrother.Shecouldn’t savehim, couldn’t protecthim… .Shehad spentmonths andmonths running,training, lifting weights, and studying martial arts. And here they were, on this highbridge,withnowhere to turn.Theywouldn’t jumpwithouta fight,but sheknew they’dlose.They’dbe thrownoff if theydidn’t jump.She’d ratherbe thrown.She’d rathergodownfighting.

Therailingwasonlywaist-high.ShefeltDan’shand,tightinhers.Sheknewhewaswaitingforhersignal.

“C’mon,kiddies,wedon’thaveallday.Climboverthefence.”

Themetal railingwaswet and cold.Amycurvedher fingers around it. Sheput herhand over Dan’s. Ears straining, she thought she heard the noise of a car. But it wascomingfromthedirectionofthepedestrianwalkway.

“Getgoing!”themanbehindherbarked.Heputhishandsonherwaistandpushedherroughly up. Amy felt her balance wobble as she hung on to the railing. Panic roaredthroughherasshestartedtotipoverintospace.

“Amy!”Danscreamed.

Themantriedtotearherhandsawayfromtherail.Shedidn’thavetimetoturnandfight,andherbalancewasoff.Shecouldn’tbreatheashesqueezedheraroundthewaistas

shekicked,tryingtopushoffthemetalrailingandsendhimoffbalance.Itwasliketryingtounbalanceamountain.

Thecarenginenoiseturnedfromdistanttonear,andsuddenlyheadlightsrakedacrossthebridge.Atruckwasbarrelingtowardthem.AtowtruckwithayellowJeepwheelingcrazilybehindit.

Shehadbarelyregisteredhershockwhenshewassuddenlyflippedover therailing.Amyscreamedasthedarkriverroseupbelowher.SheheardDanscreaming,thesquealofbrakes….

Andsomeonehadherbytheankle.

Dan’s face, lookingdown at her, hismouth open, his eyeswildwith terror.Hehadbothhandswrapped aroundher anklewhile thegoonbehindhimhadhis armwrappedaroundDan’sneck.Dan’sfacewaspurple.

Screaming,Amyswunginmidair.

Theblackriversofarbelow.Glintsofreflectedredonitssurface.Herownheartbeatinherears,roaring….

Dan’sgriploosened.Hewaslosingair,losingher,shewaslosing,theywerelosing….

The steel arch of the bridge, if she could just…manage… to grab that pipe thatlooped around the railing…Dan’s grip loosened again, and she screamed as the riverrushedup,butthemomentumcausedhertoswingjustabit.

One…more…chance…

She had taken several classes in trapeze— a birthday gift from Fiske— and hermusclememorytoldherwhattodo:usetheswing,getthatarmextended,fingersstraightout,readytograb—

Thenoiseofscreechingmetalassaultedherears,blockingoutthesoundofherquick,hardbreathingandthefaintnoiseoftraffic.HerfingershitthepipejustasDanletgoandshewasable tohold tight.The forceofherbody fallingalmost jerkedherhandoff thepipe,butsheheldon.Shewasnowswingingabove theriver,holdingonwithonlyonehand.Herarmfeltasthoughitwasbeingrippedoutofitssocket.

Terrorshimmeredoutthroughherfingers.Shebroughtherotherarmupandgrabbedthepipe.Shewouldnotwasteherenergyandgiveintothescreaminherthroat.Shebitherlipandliftedherweightup,herarmmusclesshakingwiththeeffort.

Shelandedoverthepipeonherstomachandwasabletotakeoneshudderingbreathbeforesliding,inchbyagonizinginch,closertothebridge.Herhandssmackedagainsttheledgeandsheallowedherselfonesobofreliefasshepulledherselfuptothetopoftherailing.

Assheyankedherselfup,shesawthefishtailingJeephitbothmen.Theywentflying.Evenfromhere,sheheardthecrackofskullagainstpavement.

Dan’s hands were underneath her armpits, dragging her over, and that was a goodthing,becausenowherlegsweren’tworking.Dan’sbodyshudderedwithsobs.Togethertheytoppledontothewalkway.Histearsmixedwiththesweatonherface.

“Iletyougo!Ithoughtyoufell!”

“No…Imadeit.Imadeit.”Amytastedbloodinhermouthandrealizedshe’dbittenthroughtheskinonherlip.OverDan’sshouldershesawthetowtruckparkedatacrazyangle.Oneof themenwasstruggling tohisknees,shakinghishead toclear it.Nellie’sheadstuckout.

“GETIN!”shescreamed.

DanpulledAmytoherfeet,andtheyran.Nellieflungopenthedoorandtheyjumpedintothecabofthetruck.Sheflooredit.

“What’sattheendofthisbridge?”sheshouted.

“Idon’tknow!”Amyyelled.“But it’sprobably thesamekindofmetaldoorsas theotherside.Theyhaveachainandapadlock!”

“Nottonighttheydon’t.Thisbabyisbuiltlikeatank.Buckleupandhangon!”

Theywerescreamingdownthebridgenow,thespeedometerneedlerisinghigher.Thetwoblackmetaldoorsloomedahead.Amyknewtheywerefirmlylocked,andthat theywerepadlockedontheothersidewithathickmetalchain.

“Hangon!”ThetruckhitthegatewithacrashandNelliekeptherfootonthegas.Thejoltsentthemallflyingforward,strainingagainsttheirseatbelts.

Thetruckdidn’tcrashthrough.Metalscreamedasitonlyslammedthetwodoorsopena fewfeetapart.Theywerewedgedhalfway through, trappedbetween them.Thechainkeptthetwodoorslinked.

Nellie stared ahead. “Well. That almostworked.” She glanced behind. “And we’reabouttohavecompany.”

Amy twisted and looked back. The two men were racing down the bridge towardthem.

“Climboutthewindowsandoverthehood,”Nellieordered.

Nelliewriggledoutheropenwindow,squeezedthroughtheopeningbetweenthetruckandthemetaldoors,andyelled,“Tomorrow,I’mgoingonadiet!”asshescrambledontothehood.AmyandDanfollowed.Theysliddownthehoodandjumpedoff,nowsafeonthepavementandfacingadark,hillypark.Withaquickglancebehind,theysawthemenleapontothebackofthetowtruckandclamberoverthetop.

“Run,”Nellieorderedunnecessarily.

Thepath twistedsteeplyuphill.Theypoundedupasetofstonestairs.Winded, theypausedat the top,andsawbelowthe twomenstill racingdowntheirpath, their legsaspowerfulandregularaspistonsinanengine.Theystartedtorunagain,streakingthroughthepathways.Iftheykeptgoingup,theyhopedtoreacharoadeventually.Amyfeltherbreathhotandraspinginherchest.Herlungsweregivingout.Thefighttogetbackonthebridgehadtakenmostofherstrength.

Finally, they spilled out onto a dark, empty street. Amy almost sobbed withdisappointment.Therewasnoonearound.Thestoreswereclosed,themetalgateslocked.

Acarcruisedthrougharedlightandturneddownthestreet.Oneofthemenvaultedthestonewall.Nellieranintothemiddleofthestreetasthecarzoomedtowardher.Shedidnotmove.Sheclosedhereyes.

Withasquealofbrakes,itstoppedonlyinchesfromher.

A head popped out of the window. Amy couldn’t hear the words, but she got thegeneralsenseofoutrage,alarm,andirritation.SheandDanrantowardthecarasNellieslidontothehoodandcrossedherarms.

“Areyoucrazy,lady?”TheAfrican-Americanmanwaswhite-hairedandangry.“I’monmywaytowork!Don’tgivemeahardtimenow.”

“Ijustneedaride,”Nelliesaid.“Meandmyfriends.”

“DoIlooklikeabus?”

Thetwomenwerenowonthesidewalk,watching.Amyknewitwouldn’ttakelongbeforetheywouldmakeadecision.Withthesamechillingneutrality,theycouldkillthemaninthecar,too.

Sheranover,alreadyreachingforthecashinherbelt.Shehandedthemanahundred-dollarbill.“Here’syourfare.”

Hestaredatit.“IthinkIjuststartedabusiness.Ernie’sCarService.Getin.”

They hopped in the backseat and Ernie took off. It took whole minutes for theirheartbeatstoslow.

“Nicerescue,”Dansaid.“How’dyougetthattruck?”

“Theyshouldn’thavestoppedforcoffee,”Nelliesaid,andwinked.

Erniewasheadingtohisjobatadowntownbakery,andheobliginglydroppedthemoffontheUpperWestSide.

NelliehadcontactedFiskefromthecar,andtohergreatreliefablacklate-modelcarwaswaitingat thecornerofBroadwayand110th.Theystoodforaminute,shiveringinthesuddenlycoldwind.Apatteringofrainhitthestreets.

“Herewego,kiddos,”Nelliesaid.“Aftertonight,Ithinkyou’llbesaferinIreland.”

“There’sone thing,”Amysaid. “Thosegoons—doyou think therewas somethingcrazyabouthowstrongtheywere?”

“Whatdoyoumean?”Nellieasked.

“Oneofthemrippedthechainlinkfromthedoorwithonehand,”Amysaid.“Andthewaytheyran…howfasttheycaughtuptous.”

“Theyneverbrokeasweat,”Dansaid.“Andyou’djusthitthemwithacar.”

“Doyouthink…”Nellieleftthesentenceunfinished.

“Idon’tknow,”Amysaid.“CouldPiercehaveusedSammy’sexperimentstogivehisguardsaboost?”

“Ithinkhe’scapableofanything,”Nelliesaid.“Wesawthattonight.”

“Thatmeanswe’reupagainstabunchofserum-boostedguys?”Danasked.

Nellie felt hopelessness suddenly engulf them, as relentless as the rain sweepingupBroadway.

“We’llbeatthem,”Amysaid.“We’llbeatthembecausewehaveto.”

Nelliesmiled.LeaveittoAmytosumitup.Simpleandclear.

Nelliewantedtoburstoutcrying.Shewantedtotellthemhowproudshewasofthem.

Instead,shehadtoletthemgoonalone.

“ThecarwilltakeyoutoTeterboroAirportinNewJersey,”shetoldthem.“There’saprivatejetwaitingthereunderthenameSwift.WhenyoulandinDublin,someoneonthatendwillmeetyou.”Shehuggedthemboth.“Goodluck,kiddos.Remember—minimalcontactfromnowon,butalwaysletmeknowwhereyouare.Keepalowprofile.AssoonasPonygetsthesystembackup,we’llfigurethisallout.Andwe’llbeatthem.”

“Becausewehaveto,”thethreeofthemsaid.

NellieranacrossdesertedBroadwayagainstthelight.Shehadn’twantedAmyandDantoknowwhereshewasgoing,becausetheywouldhaveinsistedoncoming,too.TonightithadbeenbrutallybroughthometoherthatPiercewouldstopatnothingtogetatanyonewithaccesstotheserum.Hewaswillingtothrowtwokidsoffabridge—hertwokids.

They’dsurvived,but the terror they’d felt tonightwouldhaunt them.Nellie touchedhershoulder.Thescarfromthegunshotwoundwasstill red.She’dbeenahostage.Sheknewaboutnightmares.

Therewasonemoretarget.OnethathadoccurredtoherinErnie’scar.Theonlyotherpersonwhoknewtheserumformula.

TheynevershouldhaveleftSammyalone.

Sammyhadmentioned thathewasgoing topull anall-nighter.Withany luck,he’dstillbethere,safeandsoundandallnerdyandadorableinhislab.Nellietriedtotextandrunatthesametimeassheheadedtowardthechemistrybuilding.

Noanswer.

Whenshereachedthechemistrybuilding,thesecurityguardwouldn’tletherupandwouldn’tconfirmifSammyhadleft.

“ButIwasjusthere!”Nellieprotested.“Ibroughthimapizza.”

Ayoungmanwassigningoutasshewastalking.“AreyouafriendofSammy’s?I’mhisroommate,Josh.”

“Yes!Ishestillhere?”

“Heleftaboutahalfhourago,”Joshsaid.“Therewassomekindoffamilyemergency.TheycalledupforSammy—hisunclewashere.”

Nellieshiftedherfeet.“Hisuncle?”

“Yeah. Iwasworried, soafter aminute I camedownafterhim. I sawhimstandingwithacoupleofguysby thecurb.Theywere talking tohim,and thensuddenlyhe justkindof collapsed. Itmusthavebeen seriouslybadnews.Theyhelpedhim into the car.Jeez,Ihopehisfamilyisokay.I’vebeentextinghim,buthehasn’tanswered.”

Nellieswallowedagainsttheballoffearinherthroat.“Didyounoticeanythingaboutthecar?”

“ItwasablackSUV.Idon’tknowwhatthemakewas.Idon’tpayattentiontocars.”

“Anythingatall…”

“Firststate.”

Nellieshookherhead,confused.

“Thelicenseplatesaid‘thefirststate.’InoticedthatbecauseIdidn’tknowtherewasafirststate.Hey,ifyoutrackhimdown,willyoutellhimtogivemeabuzz?”

Nellie thanked him and walked a few feet away. She whipped out her phone andactivatedhersearchengine.Shetypedinfirststate.

Delaware was the first state to ratify the US Constitution. “First state” was on itslicenseplate.

“Delaware,”Nelliemuttered.“Thatreallynarrowsitdown.”

Dublin,Ireland

TheyarrivedinDublin inahardrain.All theysawwasacurtainofgray.Theymadeitthroughcustomsquicklyandwalkedintothelounge.Ayoungmanwithadarkwoolcappulleddowntohiseyebrowsstood.

“Sarahand JackSwift?”he asked in a thick Irishbrogue.AtAmy’snod,he added,“Guessyoulandedatlast.”

AmyandDanlookedathim,confused.Theirplanehadbeenearly.

“Thebirds,”hesaid.“Swifts.Legendisthattheyspendtheirlivesintheairandneverland.Ach,nevermind.WelcometoIreland.I’mDeclan.Followme.”

Theyfollowedhimouttoaparkinglot,whereabatteredtruckwaited.

“Thisissomerain,”Dansaid.

“Wecallitalittlemisthere.”Declanclimbedbehindthesteeringwheel.“Youcansitintheback,there’sablanketthere—heating’snotthebestinthisheap.It’salongdrive.There are sandwiches and a thermos of tea in the basket for your dinner.Wewon’t bestopping.”

“Allright,”Amysaid.“What’sthenameofthetown?”

“Meenalappa.Don’tgetexcited,there’snotmuchtoit.”

“Howmanyhoursisthedrive?”

“Asmanyasittakes,I’dguess.”

Declanturnedontheengineanddrove.Soontheywereonahighway,andAmyandDanlosttrackofwheretheyweregoingorwhyasthenumbingmonotonyofadrivein

theraintookover.

Amyhadfallenintoanexhaustedsleepontheplane,andnowshewaswideawake.Shewishedshecould fall into thatdarkoblivionagain.Because for the first timesinceshe’dstoodoveranopengraveonlytwenty-fourhoursago,shehadtimetothinkaboutthelasttimeshesawJake.

She andDan and Fiske had flown toRome forNewYear’s. Somehow, away fromAttleboro, away from all those reminders of Evan and what she’d lost, Amy had feltherselfcomebacktolifeagain.ShestillrememberedtheNewYear’sEvedinnerthatJakehadcookedforallofthem.Atticushadwoventinyfairylightsalloverthedark,somberapartmentuntilitglowedwithcheer.Sherememberedthesudden,surprisingsnowfallthatbeganastheyatetheirdessert,andhowJakehadgrabbedherhandandsaid,“Let’swalk.”Thatmidnightwalkthroughthesnowhadgivenheraglimpseofanewlife,anewwayofbeing.AnAmywhowasn’ttorturedbymemoryandcrushedbyguilt.

Shestaredoutatthecoldgrayrain,wonderinghowamemorythathadoncegivenherhopecouldhurtherheartsomuch.

ShehadsentatexttoJakeasshewaitedontherunwayinNewJersey.

ShehadaddedILOVEYOUandtakenitout.Howcouldshesignoffthatway,whenshecouldbegoingawayforalongtime?Howdaresheusethewordlovewhensheneverknew, from one day to the next,what her lifewould be? Shewasmidair, like a swift,neverabletoland.

Darknessfell,andthesoundofraindrummingontherooflulledthemintoadoze.Whentheywoketheywereoffthehighwayanddrivingonaseriesofsmalllanes.Theycouldsmellthesea.DeclandrovefasterthanAmywouldlike,sinceshecouldn’tseebeyondtheheadlights.Butheseemedtoknoweverytwistandcurve.

Thecarclimbedasmallriseandthenmadeanabruptturnintowhatseemedtobearowofbushes.Theopeningwasbarelywideenoughforthecar.

Through therain theyglimpsedawhitewashedcottage, longand low.Declanpulledupandcuttheengine.Withoutaword,heslidoutofthefrontseatandclompedaway.

“Arewesupposedtofollowhim?”Danasked.

“Iguessso.”

Theyheadedout intotherain.Declanhadswungopenthefrontdoor,andheturnedandhandedAmyakey.

“My sister cameout earlier andput on theheat and stocked the cupboards.There’severythingyouneedinside.Bicyclesinthegarage.It’saboutafifteen-minuteridetothevillage.”

Heheadedbacktowardthecar.

“Whichway?”Amycalledafterhim.

Hegestured,butitwashardthroughtheraintoseeifhemeantleftorright.Hehoppedbackintothecaranddroveout.

“Ah,it’sthatlegendaryIrishcharmI’veheardsomuchabout,”saidDan.

Theywalked inside.Declanhadswitchedon the lamps,and the room lookedbrightandwelcoming. Therewas a small fireplacewith two plump sofas in front of it.Amypeekedintothenextroom,alargekitchenwithanotherfireplace.Thebackstaircaseledtothebedrooms,allmadeupwithfreshlinens.Laidoutonthesinkswerenewtoothbrushes,toothpaste,andsoaps.

Therainlashedthedarkpanes.Theydidn’tknowwheretheywere,orwhytheywerehere,orwhattheywoulddothenextday.Theyweretooexhaustedtocare.TheyslippedintosheetsthatsmelledsoftlyoflavenderandremindedthemofGrace,finallyfeelingsafeenoughtosleep.

WhenAmyawoke,theskywasblueoutsideherwindow.ShepeekedintoDan’sroombutthebedwasempty.Sheglancedoutthebackwindow.Aslopinglawnbehindthecottageledtoadockwithamotorboattiedtothepiling.Theinletsnakedouttowardamistybluebay.

Danstoodonthelawn,hisbacktoher.Hewasdressedbutbarefoot,thewindrufflinghishair.

She started to turn away, but stopped. Therewas something so… solitary and sadaboutthescene.Somethingabouthisposture,thewayhishandshungathissides,toldherthathewashurting.

Sheshovedherfeetinsidehersneakers,wentdownthebackstairs,andpushedopenthekitchendoor.ThescentoffreshmeadowandsaltyseahithernostrilsassheclimbedarisetostandnexttoDan.

“Didyounoticethatthehouseisinahollow?”Danaskedwithoutturningtogreether.“Andit’sinvisiblefromtheroad.Wehavethreeexitpoints—theroad,thesea,andacrossthefield.ThisisGrace’ssafehouse.”

“Ihadn’tthoughtofitthatway.”Andithurttoseethatherlittlebrotherhadfigureditout.Heshouldbepitchingbaseballs,notnoticingescaperoutes.

Danstaredwithafiercegazeattheinlet.Hischintrembled.“Iletgo,”hesaid.“Onthebridge.Ihadyou,andIletgo.”

“Yousavedme,”Amysaidquietly.“YoucaughtmeasIwentover.Andyouheldonwhilesomegoonwasstranglingyou.”

“Amy…”Danturnedtoher.Hisfacewasanguished.“Ifeltyouslipping.Ihadyou,andthenIcouldn’tholdon.Icouldn’tholdon!Ithoughtyouweredead!”

“Youcaughtme!”Amycried.“Yousavedmylife!AndI’mhere,Dan.I’mrightherebecauseofyou.”

“I’mthereasonwehadtorunaway,”hesaid.“Iwassostupid!Igotusintothismess.I’mthereasonPiercehastheserum.Nowhe’stryingtokillus,andweprobablyhavetheFBIlookingforus,too.Ijustmessedupeverywhere,big-time.Inevergetitright.”

“Yougetitrightplentyofthetime,”Amysaid.“Maybenotallthetime.Butnobodydoes.Especiallynotme.”

“I’llfollowthisthrough,”Dansaid.“Ihaveto—Istartedit.We’llstopJ.RutherfordPiercetogether.Butafterthat,I’mout.”

“Whatdoyoumean,out?”Amyasked,startled.

Dan took a breath. “I don’t want you to think this is one of my crazy impulsivedecisions.Imeanit.Idon’twanttobeaCahillanymore.”

“Youcan’tjust…resign!”

“Fiske did.He left. He renounced the family.He disappeared, traveled all over theworld….”

“Fiskewasanadultwhen he did that!You’re only thirteen!”Amy shook her head.“Look, Dan. We’ve both felt like quitting plenty of times— we’ve scraped the very

bottom.Andwe’vealwaysfoundawaytogoon.”

Dan’smouthwastwistedwiththeeffortnottocry.“Thisisdifferent!”

“It’salwaysdifferent,”Amysaidsoothingly.“Butthenwe—”

“NO!”Danshoutedtheword,andAmy’smouthsnappedshut.

“No,”hesaid,morequietly,andthatstillnessfrightenedhermorethanhisoutburst.“Ihaven’t figured it alloutyet.But I’vebeen throughenough. I’vedoneenough toknowthis:Idon’twanttobeaCahillanymore.Idon’twanttoliveinAttleboro.Idon’twantanyofit.”

Amyfelthiswordslikeaknifeinherheart.“Youwantto…leaveme?”

“Ofcoursenot!”Danslammedhishandagainsthisleginfrustration.“Ijust…can’t…livelikethisanymore.MaybeIcanlivewithNelliesomewhere…forawhile.MaybeFiskewilltakeoffagainandIcangowithhim.Notforever.Youcankeeptraining,andkeeptheCahillnetworkgoing,andkeepstayingalertforthenextbadguytocomealong.Because there’llalwaysbe anotherone.But Idon’twant to. I…can’t!”Thewordwastornoutofhisthroat.Shesawhisshouldersshaking.Heheldhisheadinbothhands.“Youdon’tknowwhatit’slike,”hewhispered.“Tohavetheseruminyourhead.”

Amyopenedhermouth,butnothingcameout.Ofcourseshedidn’tknow.Couldn’tknow.Whatwasshesupposedtodo?YellatDan?Pleadwithhim?Tellhimthathewasabandoningher?Whenobviouslythiswasthehardestdecisionhe’devermade?

Wasn’t thiswhatshewantedforhim?Safety?Alittlebitofnormal?Nomatterhowmuchitcosther.Nomatterhowmuchithurt.

“Okay,”shesaid.“We’llworkitout.Iwon’tstandinyourway.”

“You’llstillbemysister.Thatwon’tchange.”

“Iknow.”

Theyweresilentforawhile,listeningtothewindinthegrass.Amyfeltturnedinsideout byDan’s pain. Her brother looked so young at thatmoment, standing in the grassbarefoot,withhismessybedhead.Buthiseyeslookedolder.Olderthanathirteen-year-old’sshouldlook.

Ifhehadtoletgoofhertohaveanormallife,therightthing,thebravething,wouldbetolethimgo.Butcouldshe?

Clouds had covered the sun, and the inletwas now iron graywith flecks ofwhite.Amyshivered.

IfsheletDango,she’dbealone.

After ahastybreakfast, theywheeled thebicyclesoutof thegarage andheaded for thelane.

“Left,orright?”Amyasked.

“IthinkIrememberseeingtheheadlightsturnrightlastnight,”Dansaid.

“Andit’sdownhill,”Amysaid.“Let’stryit.”

Theypedaled for someminutes in silence. Soon they saw another bicyclist headingtowardthem.

“Excuseme,sir?Whichwayisthevillage?”Amycalled.

“Nottoofar,”heansweredshortly,andpedaledquicklyaway.

Theykeptonpedaling.Afterabit theysawawomanexitacottagebytheroadandstoptowaterapotfullofbrightredflowers.

“Excuseme,isthisthewaytothevillage?”Dancalled.

“Sure,ifyoukeepon,you’llhitsomethingorother,”thewomanreplied,andturnedandwalkedquicklybackintoherhouse.

“SuperMcFriendlyfolkshereinleprechaunland,”Danobserved.

But after about ten minutes of riding, the road dipped and curved, and the villageappeared, a cluster of houses and shops. They jumped off their bikes and leaned themagainstthesideofagrocerywithabrightbluedoor.

Thebelljangledastheywalkedin.Ayoungwomansatbehindthecounter,readingabook.Shedidn’tlookup.

Pickingupawickerbasket,theyfilleditwithfood.Theyputthebasketonthecounter.

“It’saprettyvillage,”Amysaid.“Haveyoulivedherelong?”

“Longenough.”Shetotaleduptheirpurchases.

“Isthereagoodplacetoeatlunchnearby?”Danasked.

“FolkssaySeanGarvey’s isgood,butwhetheryou’ll think it is Ican’tpredict,” thegirlsaid.

“Canweleaveourgroceriesherefornow?”Amyasked.

“Supposeyoucan.”

“Nicetomeetyou,too,”Dansaid.

Theywalkedout.AcrossthestreettheysawasignforSeanGarvey’sandswungopenthedoor.Thebarwascrowdedwithlocals,andtheyallfellsilentasAmyandDanwalkedin.Aprettywaitresswithreddishhairandhazeleyesledthemtoatablebythewindowandputtwomenusonthetable.

“I’mstartingtogetthefeelingI’mnotwanted,”Dansaid.

“Iguessthey’renotusedtostrangers,”Amysaid.

Dan studied themenu. “I think I’ll skip thebangers andmash. I feel like I’vebeenbangedandmashedenoughalready.”

Theyorderedsandwichesandobservedthelocals.Dankepthavinganoddfeeling,asthoughhewasinafamiliarplace.He’dneverbeentothispartofIreland,orthisvillage,yetherecognizedsomethingaboutit.

Thewaitressfrownedasshefoldednapkins,andDanfeltajolt.

ShelookslikeAmy.

Whatwasit?Thewayhermouthturneddown?Theshapeofherface?

HelookedbackatAmyasshechewedhersandwich.Nowshelookednothinglikethewaitress,really.Hemustbecrazy.

After lunch they bought backpacks and spare clothes at a small store. Then theywalked through thenearbychurchyard.At least theydidn’t have toworry aboutpeoplestaringatthem.

Danpausedtorest,leaningagainstamassiverockstreakedwithmoss.

“Dan,whatareyoudoing?Itmightbeagravestone.”

“It’snotagravestone,it’sjustarock.”Dansteppedawayandranhishandsalongthestone.“See?Nocarvings.”Justashesaidthat,hisfingerstracedadepressioninthestone.Hefollowedthelineup,slightlydown,upagain,tracingaletterinthestone.

Hescrapedatthemosswithafingernail,clearingitaway.“Amy…lookatthis.”

Sheleaneddown.“Idon’tseeanything.”

Dancontinuedtoworkatthestone,scrapingoffthemoss.Thenhesteppedbackandtheycaughttheirbreath.

ItwastheMadrigalM.

Thegirlwasinthesamepositionatthegrocery,stillreadingabook.

“Wewerejustwalkinginthechurchyard,”Amysaidinacasualtone,“andwenoticedthisgiganticrockthere.”

“Oneofourmorethrillingsightshereinthevillage,”thegirlsaid.Sheflippedapageinherbook.

“There’s anM traced in the surface of the rock,” Dan said. “And it looks reallyancient.”

“It’sjustarock,”thegirlsaid.“Idoubtthere’sanythingcarvedinit.”

Danknewthegirlwaslyingbythewaysheturnedapageofherbook.Shehadn’thadtimetoreadit.Heheldoutthepicturehe’dtakenonhisphone.He’dsnappeditandsentittoNellie.

Sheflickedaquickglanceatit.“Idon’tseeanything.Letmegetyourgroceries.”Sheturnedandleaneddowntopickupthesack.

DangaveAmyasharpnudge.Tattooedonthesmallofthegirl’sbackwasclearlyaMadrigalM.

Amy took the sack in her arms. “If it’s just a rock,” she said, “why is the sameMtattooedonyourback?”

For the first time, theysawemotionon thegirl’s faceasherpaleskinwassplashedwithpink.

“It’sasymbolofthevillage,”shesaid,liftingherchinandbrushingastrandofdarkhairoutofhereyes.“Meenalappa.”

“Thenwhydidn’tyousaythatabouttherock?”

“MustIhavechatsaboutrockswitheveryeejittouristthatwalksintomyshop?”sheaskeddefiantly.“NowgetbacktoyourtouristbusandkissmyBlarneyStone.”

“We’renotfroma touristbus,”Dansaid.“We’restayingatacottagenearby.BhaileAnois.”

The girl stared at them.Her gazemoved fromDan’s face toAmy’s and then backagain.Thenthetensenessleftherbody,andshesmiled.

“That Declan. He’s thick as a plank. You’d think your own brother would let youknowwhohedrove to thecottage lastnight. Iheard therewasa touristbus in thenextvillage—they’veanicechurchthere,it’sonthetouristtrack.Sometimesthefolkswalkdownhereforlunchatthepub.Sorrytobiteyourheadsoff.We’reveryprotectiveaboutourvillage,especiallywhenthere’speoplestayingatBhaileAnois.”

“That’sokay,”Dansaid.Itwasamazinghowagrintransformedthegirl’sface.

“There’sCahillalloveryou,”thegirlsaid.“Ishouldhaveseenit.”

“We’reGraceCahill’sgrandchildren,”Amysaid.

“DanandAmy,ofcourse.Anyway,”shesaid,“wehaveasayinginmyhouse,andinthevillage.AnythingforGrace.Nowthatincludesyou.Oh,wherearemymanners,I’mFionaKilhane.Mygrandmotherwascaretakerofthecottage—shewasagoodfriendofGrace’s.I’msorryaboutherpassing.”

“Thankyou,”Amysaid.

“Tellusabouttherock,”Dansaid.

“It’salmostasoldasthevillageitself,”Fionasaid.“Itgoesbeyondmemory,backintofolklore, I guess.The childrenof everygeneration tell the talesof thevillager the rockcommemorates.Hundredsandhundredsofyearsago,shewasbornhere.Shewentawayforalongtimeandreturnedtohaveadaughter,onlytogoawayagain.Thechildrencallheragoodwitch.It’ssaid thatsheprotected thevillagefromtheplague, thatshewasaselkiefromAtlantis,thatshespunthreadsintogold.Hernamewas—”

“Olivia.”Amybreathedthename.

“That’sright,”Fionasaid.“Gracemusthavetoldyouthelegend.Manyyearslater,herdaughterreturnedhere.ShecarvedanMinthestone.”

“Madrigal,”Dansaid.

“Oh, yes— that name has come down to us.We call it theMadrigal rock. It’s asymbolofthevillage,Iguess,ourMadrigal.”

Dan feltAmy’s excitementmatchhis.Fionawas talking about their ancestorOliviaCahill.HerdaughterMadeleinehadbeenthefirstMadrigal.

Thisisourancestralvillage,Danthought.ThisiswhereOliviaCahillwasborn.

Amy and Dan pedaled back to Bhaile Anois. Now the landscape looked fresh andmeaningfultothem.Thisiswheretheycamefrom.

“WhyanM,though?”DanaskedAmy.

“Becauseshecouldn’tputupastonewithhermother’snameonit,”Amyguessed.“Itwouldhavebeentoodangerous.MaybethewordMadrigalhadasecretmeaningtobothofthem.”

Theypushedthroughthetallhedge,andthewhitefarmhousesatsnugandbrightinitshollow.DanfeltAmynexttohim,herhandsrestinglightlyonthehandlebars.She,too,waslookingatthehouse.Heknewthatshewasthinkingthesamething.Itwasthatmind-meldthathappenedwiththemsooften.

“Grace had a reason she wanted us to come here,” he said. “And it wasn’t justprotection.”

“Iknow.”

Theywheeledthebikesintothegarageandbroughttheirbagsintothehouse.

“Wheneverwe’veneededher,she’sbeenthere,”Amysaid.“Evenaftershewasgone.ShegaveusMcIntyreandFiskeandNellie.Andnowshe’sledushere.”

“It’shere,”Dansaid.“Whateveritis.There’ssomethinginthehouse.”

Theyexchanged thebriefestofglances, then sprang intoaction.Amyheaded to thesmall study off the kitchen. She searched the desk and the bookshelves. She pressedagainstfloorboardsandtappedagainstwalls.

Dan headed upstairs. He poked around the rooms, moving dressers and examiningfloorboardsforatelltalelooseboard.HescrutinizedthegraystonefireplaceinthemasterbedroomwhereAmyhadslept.Hecrawledoverthefloorsoftheremainingsmall,sparebedrooms.Heknockedontheirwalls.

Finally,heclimbedthewindingwoodenstaircasetotheatticbedroom,sosmallithadroomonly forabedandasmall table.Onehighroundwindowgavea faintglimpseofbluesky.Therewasnocloset,onlyarowofpegsalongonewall.

Frustrated, he started down the stairs again. He hit the landing andmade the turn,poundingdowntheremainingstairs.

Hestopped.

Hewalkedupthestairsagain.

Thendown.

Dandroppedtohisknees.Heexaminedeveryinchof thestaircase,crawlingupanddownit.Whenhereachedthebottom,hesawAmystandinginthehall,watchinghim.

“Yeah,”hesaid.“I’mprobablycrazy.Butthere’ssomethingdifferentaboutthesoundofthestairsatthetopfromthebottom.It’sjustalittlething,but—”

Hestopped.Amyhadleanedrightnexttoacandlesconce.Ithadamirrorbacking,sothatthecandlelightwouldbecaughtandreflected.Inthatmuddyreflectionhe’dseenit.Thematchingsconceontheotherwallwasslightlydifferent.Themetalscrollworkontheledgewasadifferentdesign.Butinallotherrespectsthesconceswereaperfectpair.

He ranhis fingersalong the scrollwork.Carefully,he tuggedon the sconce itself. Itmoved inhishandandhequickly tried to catch it. It hung steady, still anchored to thewall,butafewinchesaway.Hepulleditallthewaydown,andthestaircaseroseintotheair.

Beyonditwasasecretroom.

Danwalkedupafewstepsandpeeredin.ThenheturnedtoAmy.

“Afteryou,”hesaid.

Amy passed through the opening. She straightened and felt along the wall for a lightswitch.Itturnedonaprettylampwithablueglassshadethatsatonawhitetable.

Danfollowed.Theywereinasmall,squareroom.Thefloorboardswerepaintedwhiteand the ceiling sky blue, perhaps tomake up for the lack of windows. The roomwastuckedundertheeaves.Amyguessedthatitwouldbeimpossibletotellfromoutsidethehousethatitexisted.

Nexttothewhitetablewasawoodenchairwithadeeppurplecushionontheseat.Shecould visualizeGrace sitting in the chairwith her straight-backed posture.Therewas apaintingononewall,andontheotheranornategoldmirror.

Shewalked closer to the table and leaned over to study the painting. The childlikeforms depicted brightly coloredwoods and sky and a splash of yellow against a greenfield.Sherecognizeditimmediately.ShehadgivenittoGraceforherbirthdaywhenAmywasnine.Shehadworkedonitsocarefully—itwastheviewfromGrace’swindowseatinthelibrary.Theplacetheyusedtocurluptogetherwithapotofcocoaandaplateofcookies.Shehadpainteditinspring,whenthegiantforsythiabushwasblooming.Gracehad called the bush “George” because she had buried a favorite goldfish there yearsbefore.“Oh,IseeGeorgeisreadytobloom,”shewouldsayinearlyspring.

Danwalkedovertoawoodenfilingcabinetnext tothetable.Heopenedthedrawerandflickedthroughthefiles.Amystood,lookingoverhisshoulder.ThefilesweremarkedbyGrace’sstronghandwriting.

Amy flipped through them. “These are duplicates,” she said. “These files are alldownstairsinthestudy.”

“WhywouldGraceneedtwosetsoffiles?”Danwondered.

“Because thesearea cover,” she said.Shebegan to remove the files, stacking themneatlyonthedesk.

Thenshereacheddownintothedrawer.Withsometuggingandpulling,shefoundthattherewasapanelonthebottom.Shelifteditup,thenwithdrewametalbox.

“Thisiswhatwe’remeanttofind,”shesaid.

Dan studied the lock. “An alphabet combination lock. So we need a word, notnumbers.”

“Somethingonlywewouldknow,”Amysaid.Shebither lip.“WheneverGracehasleftsomethingshehopeswe’llfind,shealsogivesusaclue.There’sgottobeaclueinthisroom.”

Danlookedaround.“There’snotmuchheretogoon.”

They went through the files carefully, but nothing leaped out at them. Then theyexaminedtheroom,butitwasasbareasitlooked.

“There’sgottobesomething,”Amysaid.Amy’sgazerestedonthepainting.Theblobof yellow bushwas painted so badly. Itwas nice ofGrace to hang it. Especiallywhenshe’ddonemuchbetterpaintingsthanthisone.

Somethingonlywewouldknow…

Shereturnedtothebox.Shespuntheletters.

G-E-O-R-G-E

Thelidopened.

Amy lifted out a notebook, and underneath that, another box, this one wrapped inkitchentwine.Danhoveredoverhershoulderassheuntiedit.

She opened the top of the box. Inside sat an old journal, a little bigger than apaperback. Itwas leather bound, and she could see the ruffled, yellowed pages on oneside.“Itlooksancient,”shemurmured.

“Itsmellsancient,”Dansaid.

Itwastrue.Itsmelledlikeoldpaper,mustyanddry,butsomethingelse…somethingmedicinal.Amyopeneditcarefully.Theremusthavebeenplantsorherbspressedin itspagesatonetime—shecouldsee theghostly traces they’dleftontheyellowedpages.Therewerebeautifulinkrenderingsofplantsandleavesandflowers.Carefullyturningthepages,shesawarecipeforapoulticeagainst“theague,” thebestmethodforbleaching

stainsoutofmuslin,alistofpricesnexttoitemslikeaboltoflinen,acaskofwine,tea….

“It’s ahouseholdaccountbook,”Amysaid. “Definitelywrittenbyawoman.Andakindofdiary. Imean,youcan figureouther lifeby readingwhat shedideveryday. ItlookslikesomeofitisinLatin…orItalian?Both,Ithink.”

“Whoownedit?”Danasked.“AndwhydidGracehideit?”

Amyturnedbacktotheinsidecover.

Ashiverrandownherspine.Danletoutalongexhalation.

“Whoa,”hesaid.“It’sGreat-great-great-greatetceteragrandma’sbook!”

Amyturnedtothebackcoverofthebook.Inastrongclearhand,fadedovertime,waswritten:Ret’dforsafekeepingtothecareofthevillageofMeenalappa.1526M.C.

“Madeleine Cahill,” Amy breathed. “She brought the book back toMeenalappa in1526.Afterhermotherdied.And somehow it survived, all theseyears!Amazing.”Shecarefully leafed through the pages. “Look, Dan — there is a gap here. Five pagescompletelyinkedout.”

“Whywouldsomeonedothat?Tocoversomethingup?”

“Maybe.”The inkwas dark and black, line after line bleeding into the next until itcovered every bit of blank paper. There was something somber and chilling about it.Something that reminded her of the dark days she’d spent after the funerals of Evan,Alistair,Natalie….

“Ormaybethesepagesareamemorial,”Amysaidslowly.“Rememberthestory?ThatGideonwaskilled,andherfourchildrenscattered….Thesefivepagesarehergrief.Andthenlook,shedoesn’twriteanythinguntilJuly10,1508….”Amycountedonherfingers.“ThatcouldbethedateofMadeleine’sbirth!Look,hereshedrewtheMadrigalM.”

She pointed to the oversized, hand-drawnM in themiddle of a page adornedwithflowers and leaves. Again there were recipes and medicines, lists of ingredients and

amounts….

“Look,” Amy said. “She stops writing here— she has ten blank pages. And she’scopiedoutapoem.Thenhere—shewrites,Imieiviaggi.‘Mytravels,’”Amytranslated.“Afterthattherestofthebookiswrittenincode!”

“I’mguessingwe’reheretocrackit,”Dansaid.

“MaybeGracealreadydid!”

Excited,AmypickedupGrace’snotebook.Onlyaboutathirdofthebookwaswrittenin.TherewerelistsofLatinwordsandtranslationsofoldItaliantomodernItalian.Thentherewerenotationsthatdidn’tmakeanysenseatall.

“IthinkGracetriedtobreakthecode,butwasn’tableto,”Amysaid.

Dangroaned.“Whyisn’titevereasy?”

Assheflippedthepages,anenvelopefellout.

Amy’sheartfluttered.“It’sfromGrace,”shesaidtoDan.

Thenotewasn’tlong.

“Thesecretisoutintheworld,”Dansaid.“Theserum.”

AmytouchedtheletterG,sobold,sostrong.“Shewasafraidthisdaywouldcome.”

“Somewhereinthere,”Dansaid,pointingtothebook,“istheanswertoourproblem.GracegaveusawaytofightJ.RutherfordPierce!”

Bytheevening,theyhadtogiveup.Olivia’sbookwasafascinatingglimpseintolifeinIrelandintheearlysixteenthcentury,buttheycouldn’tseehowwhatshewrotecouldhelpthem.Andtheycouldnotbreakthecode.

“There’stoomuchLatinandItalian,”Dansaidsleepilyfromhispronepositiononthefloor. “And if Ihave to readonemorepoultice recipe, I’ll tearmyhairout.”He raisedhimselfonhiselbows.“Youknowwhoweneedtocall.AtticusandJakeknowthesedeadlanguages.Theycould—”

“No,”Amyinterrupted.

Dansatupright.“Whilewe’resittinghere,Pierceisgainingpowereverydaywiththeserum. We’re the only ones who can stop him. We have to use everything we can,everyonewecan.Youmightwant toprotecteverybody,”he said.“Iget that.But if thewholeworldfallsapart,whatgooddiditdo?”

Amyjackknifedtoherfeet.“Let’sjustgotobed.”

Dan’s words pounded in Amy’s head as she tucked the book under her arm andfollowedhimup thewornwoodenstairs to their rooms.Shewanted to tellhimhewaswrong.Shewanted tosay,Youdon’tknowwhat it’s like tobe incharge.Shewanted toflinganaccusationathim—You’retheonewhowantstorunaway!Youdon’tgettohaveavoteanymore!Butshewastooexhaustedtofight.

Shepulledonthesweatsthey’dboughtintown,brushedherteeth,andturnedoutthelight.

Sleepwouldn’tcome.She tossedand turnedforanhour.Whensheclosedhereyes,she felt herself falling, the dark, oily river rushing up at her. She felt Dan’s fingersweakening. Panicked, she reached for the light. She propped herself up on pillows andpickedupOlivia’sbook.

Asshe read,hereyebrowsknit together.All theseyears, they’dwonderedabout thefascinatingGideonCahill,themanwhosetouttostopaplagueanddevelopedapowerfulserum.Whoknew thathiswife,Olivia,was just as fascinatingandbrilliant ashewas?ThejournalmadeclearthatitwasOliviawhogatheredtheserumingredients,OliviawhoassistedGideoninthelab,Oliviawhokeptthefamilytogether.AmyreadOlivia’swords.

Thepowerhesoughtforhealingtransmogrifiedintoabeast.Abeastwiththepowerofgreatdestruction.Andsoitmustitselfbedestroyed.Toeachisitsopposite.Theoppositenegatestheother.

Shelookedagaintothepoemrightbeforethecodedendofthebook.She’dreaditthateveningseveraltimes,buthadn’tunderstoodit.Shereaditagain,herheartbeatthuddinginherears.

Foursouls,fourelements,nowdispersed.

’TwasasthoughmyFamily,cursed

andburdened—lo!topassthroughyears

ofStrife,Calumny,Fears.

YetbeneathmybeatingHeartmySecretgavemejoyandhope—

afutureseen—notgrasped.MyJoy,youhavestrengthenoughtocope

andtakeupbattlenotwitharmsbutwisdomgainedfromancientland

keptcloseandpassedfromhandtohand

tomiomaestrodivita,theeoftimelesswoman,universalman.

Thenhetomebequeathedit,andwithinstructionbid

andI,throughhisownmethods,hid.

Usingthis,gatheredItheparts.Andwithonedramshallmend

whatwastornasunder.Andtotheashheapsend.

Itakeandhererecordfromwhatmyguidehathguarded

withnoedgesglimpsed,darksketchedthekeyimparted.

MyJoy,mySong,youhavemycharge.Nowtakewhattheeownsoutright,counteightandonthesixthdopause.

Takethatsixth,matchtofirstthatRomansbrought,andendassaultonNature’sLaws.

Foursouls,fourelements.ItwascleartoAmywhatOliviameant.Thefoursoulswerethechildren:Luke,Thomas,Katherine,Jane.

Fourelements:thefourpartsoftheserum.

Dispersed:thechildrenwereeachgivenapartoftheserum,andallofthemscattered,bitterlydivided.Oliviahadnotbeenabletoholdherfamilytogether.Theserumhadbeentoopowerful.JustasforgenerationsofCahills,asOliviahadforeseen.Murder,plots,lies,revenge…stretchingoutforfivecenturies,pittingCahillagainstCahill.

Miseryhandeddown,generationaftergeneration.

YetbeneathmybeatingHeartmySecretgavemejoyandhope.

ThatwasMadeleine,thechildOliviawascarryingwhenshefledthedestructionofherhome.

Thenreferencestogathering…what?Tomakeadram—abitoftheserum?

No,Amythought.Oliviahatestheserum.Thatisclear.

MyJoy,mySong,youhavemycharge.

She’stellingMadeleinetodosomething….

Amysatupinbed.Coulditbe?Itmadesense.Itmadeperfectsense.

“Yes!”shecried.Thiswasit,thiswastheanswer.Thiswasthekey!

SheranacrossthehalltoDan’sroom.Sheshookhimawake.

Heboltedup.“What’shappening?Where’smypants?”

“Dan, wake up! I’ve been reading Olivia’s book.” Amy waited until the sleepyconfusion left Dan’s eyes. “I think I know what Olivia was working on. She wasformulatingtheantidotefortheserum.That’sthekeytostoppingPierce!”

Attleboro,Massachusetts

ThehousefeltsobigwithoutFiskeandAmyandDan.Nelliewasn’tusedtosuchsilence.Itseemedtoechoagainstherears.Whenshewalkedacrossthepolishedwoodfloor,herfootsteps had sounded as loud as a giant’s. She’d kicked off her boots and was nowpaddingaroundinhersocks.

Anxiety gnawed at her. She’d run into a big, fat dead end. Itwas like Sammy haddisappearedintothinair.

ShereachedintoherpocketandbroughtouttheNewJerseyTurnpiketicket.Whoeverhad used it had traveled the entire distance — the turnpike ended at the DelawareMemorialBridge.

She recognized Pony’s knock — three rhythmic taps. Then the taps turned intopounding.Sherantolethimin,herphonestillinherhand.Ponysteppedinside,tookonelookatheropenlaptop,andcrossedtoitintwosteps.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Nellieaskedashequicklybegantyping.

“Catchingamouse,”hesaid.

“Ithoughtyousaidthatlaptopwassafe.”

“Itwas.”Ponykepttyping,hisclumsyhandsagileonthekeys.“Igotyou,mousie,”hemurmured.“Followthecheese….”

“Areyouwritingtosomeone?”

“Code.I’mhuntingthemwhilethey’rehuntingme.”

“Butyou’llleadthemhere!”

“You swine!”Pony slapped his hand downon the table, then resumed typing. “Notyou,goddess.Listen,it’snot…here…I’mworriedabout.Theyknowwhereyouare.It’s…DanandAmy…”

“They’retrackingthem?”

“They’retrying.Didyoureceiveanattachmentfromthem?”

“Justaphotograph…”

Pony muttered through his teeth. “I’m rerouting … through Johannesburg … toBeijing….Andthen…comeon,mousie,followme….”

Nelliecrossedherfingers,thenclosedhereyes.

“GOTCHA!”Ponyclosedthelaptopwithasmash.

“Diditwork?”Nellieasked.

“TheyareprobablyrightnowlookinginMozambique.”

“Couldyoutracktheircomputer?”

Pony shook his head. “Almost got them, but I can’t pinpoint it. It’s not in theUS.SomewhereinEurope.”

“Thatdoesn’texactlynarrowitdown.”

Hescratchedhisear. “Best I coulddo in thirty seconds.But Ican’tbeonehundredpercent sure they didn’t get a general location onD andA before Imanaged to divertthem.”

“I’dbettertellDanandAmytogetoutofthere.”

“Not with that phone, you’re not.” Pony held out his hand. “Did you connect thephonetothelaptopatanytime?”

“ThephotocameinasatextsoIdownloadedthephoto….”

Hedroppedthephoneonthefloorandsmasheditwithhisshoe.“Annoyed!”

“Pony,you’rescaringme.”

Hefacedher,hishandsdeepinhispockets.“Youshouldbescared.Weshouldallbescared. This situation is completely wreckitudinous. We have been chomped by thesupremeempress.”

“Pony, I’m begging you now. Please speak English. It is our common language.”Nellietuckedherhandsinherarmpits.Shehateditwhenherhandsstartedtoshake.BythelookonPony’sface,sheknewitwasbad.

WhateverPonywouldtellher,sheknewonething:ItwastimetooverruleAmy.Theyneededhelp.

Hesighedashesiftedthephonethroughhisfingersanddroppedit inhispocket.“Ifiguredoutwhohackedintoyoursystem.Whoisprobablystilltryingtotrackyou.”

“Who?”Nellieasked,bewildered.Whoeveritwas,therewasalookoffearonPony’sface.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, as though the house itselfwas no longer safe.Maybeitwasn’t.

“Waldo,”hewhispered.

Anundisclosedlocation

AprilMaygotherfirstcellphoneatfour.Ofcourseitwasanoldoneofhermother’sandshecouldn’tmakeacallonit,butitwasherfavoritetoy.Shetookitapart,whichmadeherparentslaugh.Butwhen,atten,sheopenedupherfather’smotherboard,theydidn’ttakeitsowell.

April had always had a thing for secrets.When other children had imaginary bestfriends,sheconstructedherownmultipleidentities.ShecouldbeanyoneshelikedontheInternet.Thatwasfreedom,somethinginshortsupplyinherhouse.Hermotherwantedtoknow everything she was thinking and her father wanted to know everything she wasdoing.

Therewasnoprivacy inherhousehold.Theone time she tried tokeep adiary, herfatherreadit, thenreturneditwithhisowncorrectionsinredpen.Hermothercopieditandsent it toherowntherapistsoshecoulddiscussApril’sproblems“inthecontextofmyownpersonhood.”

April soon learned to fabricate a false front, aplacewhereherparents couldaccessher,whileherrealselfroamedfreesomewhereelse:inherimagination,herdreams…andthe Internet.Thatwaswhen she first realized that there, people could be anything theywanted.Theycouldvisitsites,writee-mails,joincommunitiesthathadnothingtodowiththeirrealselves.

She never cared for school-yard games. She’d rather sneak back into the classroomandhackintoherteacher’scellphone,thenreadallthee-mails.Secretswerepower.

Herparentssoonlearnedtochangetheirpasswordsoften.Itdidn’thelpmuch.Shestillhackedintoherfather’se-mailwhenshewastwelve.Shedidn’tlikewhatshefoundthere,

but she used it.The next thing she knew, shewas in boarding school.That’swhenherhackingreallybegan.

Atschool,asherskillsincreased,shediscoveredthattherewasawholeshadowworldoutthere,filledwithpeoplejustlikeher.Peoplewhosawthatdigitalfirewallswerejustachallengetobeovercome.Aprilworkedlessandlessonsocialstudiesandfieldhockeyand music and math, all those high school preoccupations that suddenly seemed lamecompared to this thrilling, secretworld.Whybother studying for amath testwhenyoucould tell your teacher that you know about his secret weekend trips to that casino inAtlantic City — the trips his wife doesn’t know about? Why bother befriending aroommatewhoyouknow is sending textsabouthowweirdyouare?Easier to live inashadowworld.

But evenApril had scruples.Exposinghypocrisywasher game.Shedidn’t hack todestroy,onlytoreveal.Sure,shecouldhackintotheCIA,butdidshewantto?Notyet,anyway.

In thepastyearor two, shehad foundanother thrill:makingmoney.Lotsof it.Forcertainselectclients,moneywasnoobject.Shewaschoosyaboutherclients.She’donlyhack into the accounts of people or organizations she didn’t approve of. Actors,politicians,sillycelebrities,billionaireswhogotthatwaybylying,cheating,andstealing.

ShenamedhercompanyWALDO.Sheemployedafewgoodhackers,butonlyafew.Noonehadeverseenher.TherewerenophotographsofAprilMayontheInternet,andsheintendedtokeepitthatway.

Shenowhadacomfortablecoupleofmilliondollarsorso residing inaverysecureaccountintheCaymanIslands.

Herlatestclient,J.RutherfordPierce,waspossiblyherbiggestyet.Shedidn’tlikehimmuch,buthetestedherabilities,andthatwasagoodthing.Thankstohim,she’dbrokenintoseveralsearchenginesandmanipulatedresults.Hehadhiseyeonapoliticalcareer,and April May had discovered early on in this business that almost everyone hadsomethingtohide.

He was going places, too. Through him, she could break into media and possiblypolitics,andthentheskywasthelimit.

Andshedidn’t like two richentitledbratswitheverything in theworld theyneededcausingtroublewherevertheywent,either.So.Iftradinginformationforcashmeantyou

humiliatedpeopleinahandfuloftabloids,maybeseriouslymesswiththeirlives…hey,itwasaliving.

They’dhiredsomeexpertsecuritycontrol,thatwasforsure.Wallsbehindwalls.Aprilwasalmostbeginningtoenjoythegame.

Thekidsweren’t inMozambique.That sheknew for sure.Thehacker could sendafalsechain,butshewasn’tabouttopickitup.

She tapped in another line of code.April leaned forward. Thiswas good news shecouldpassalongtoherlatestclient.TheCahillaccountwasheatingup.

SomewhereoverthewestofIreland

Below them, stone walls, green fields, patches of yellow, patches of rust.White puffycloudsinabluesky.Itwasafinedaytofly.Pierce’shandsrestedlightlyonthecontrols.Helovedsmallplanes.Hedidn’tlikehighways.Hewasalwaysinahurrynowthathehadsomeplacetogetto.Helookeddownathishands.Onedaysoonthey’dholdallthepowerintheworld.

Verysoon.

Everystephe’dplannedsometiculouslyhadworked.

Mediamogul.Check.

Millionsoffollowers.Check.

Financingfromsecretivebillionaires.Check.

Secretarmy.Ontrack.

Stockpileofweaponry.Check.

Next:theUnitedStatespresidency.

Andnow,thefinalpush.Announcehiscandidacy.HireAtlastostartsomesortofwarsomewhere.Detonateacoupleofwarheads.ThenblamethecurrentUSpresidentforit.

GaltandCarasatintheseatsbehindhim.Theylookedbored.Theywouldn’tbesoonenough.

Suchperfectpolitician’schildren—he’dmadesureofthat.Sportyboy,musicalgirl.Blondandeven-featuredliketheirmother.Carawaspretty—abitontheblandside,likeDebiAnn— but thatworked in his favor. Politicianswith gorgeous daughters got the

wrong kind of media attention. The focus needed to be on him. Handsome Galt, onlythirteen and already looking like Pierce. Straight nose, good chin, gray eyes. Killerinstinct.

Thankstohisnewregimeforthekids,theyhadsheddoubt,defiance,pounds,ethics…allthosepeskythingsheusedtodespiseinthem.

“Hey, kids,” he called over the noise of the engine. “How are you feeling since Istartedyouonthosesmoothies?Stronger,amIright?Maybeevensmarter?Quicker?”

“Ifeelawesome,”Galtsaid.

“Super,Dad,”Carasaid.Whydidshealwayssoundlikeshewasmockinghim?Pierceglancedatherquickly,butshestaredpeacefullyback.

“Whatareyouthinkingrightnow?”hefiredather.

“Ienjoythemangoflavorbest,”sheansweredpromptly.

“Notaveryinterestingthought,”Piercesaid.“Butacceptable.”

It started as a gamewhen theywereyoung.How theyused to squealwithpleasurewhenheaskedthemthequestion!Hehadinventedthegame.Theyhadtoanswerwithinonesecond,sothathecouldbesuretheyweren’tlying.Littledidtheyknow,atthree,atfour,atfive, thathewastrainingthem.Whatwastheuseofhavingchildrenunlessyoucouldcountontheirloyalty?

Everymorningheroseearlyenoughtoscanthenewspapers.Hecutoutthearticleshewanted them to read and placed them by their plates. Eveningswere for printouts andmagazinearticles.Hewasformingtheirmindssothattheywouldbejustlikehim.

Latelyhe’dbeenthinkingthatthewebwastoovasttocontrol.Hewasdrawingupaplantodeletecertainpartsofhistoryfromit,sothathiskidscouldn’taccessstoriesunlessheapproved.

Carawas reaching forher earphones.He’d loseher to a symphony in a second.Heneededherattention.

“Kids, remember, it’s our secret, right?Yourmom—you know how she is. She’dwanttoprotectherbabies.She’dstillhaveyouonapplesauceandmashedcarrotsifshecould.”

Galtsnickered.

“Areyoureadyforonelasttest?Areyouupforit?”

“Yeah!”Galtsaid,pumpingafist.“Bringiton!”

“Iknowyou’reloyal,”Piercesaid.“Iknowyou’resmart.Iknowyouareinexcellentphysical condition. What I don’t know — and I need to — is that you can operateindependently.”

Caralookedwarilyathim.“Whatdoyoumean?”

“Ineedtoknowthatyoucanbedroppedintoasituation—anysituation—navigatethroughit,anddeliverresults.Areyoureadyforyourassignment?”

“Ready,”Galtsaid.

“I’ve got reporters all over the globe looking for Amy andDan Cahill. Those twodriveweb traffic likenobody’sbusiness. Ihavea locationwhere theywere, but Idon’tknowwheretheyare.”

“AreweheadingtoLondon?”Caraasked.

“Notyet.We’reoverthewestcoastofIrelandnow.Yourassignmentis tofindAmyand Dan Cahill and pass along their coordinates to me in time for me to send somepaparazzitheirway.”

The twokids lookeddubious.Pierceneeded them tobuy into this.He couldhardlysendhisbodyguardsswarmingovertheIrishcountryside.GaltandCarawouldbeperfect.Nobodypaidattentiontokids.

“Justpretendyou’restudentsbackpackingaroundEurope,”hetoldthem.

“Thisdoesn’tsoundverychallenging,”Galtsaidsulkily.

“I think it sounds fun,”Cara said,peeringout thewindow.“It’sabeautifulcountry.AndaslongasIdon’thavetosleepoutdoors,I’mcoolwithit.”

That’sgood,becauseyoudon’thaveachoice,Piercethought,butheknewbetterthantosayit.

“Wherearethebackpacks?”Caraasked.

“Rightbehindyourseats.Withtheparachutes.Tonywillhelpyouintothegear.”

Theman the kids had assumedwas a steward came forward fromwhere he’d beensittingintheback,welloutofearshot.

“P-parachutes?”Carasputtered.“Butwe’veneverskydived!”

“Nottoworry.Didn’tIsayyouwereintopphysicalcondition?”

TonybegantoslideachuteoverGalt’sshoulders.

“Dad?I’mnotsosureaboutthis!”Galtexclaimed.“Couldn’tyoufindaniceairporttolandin?”

“Don’twanttoleaveapapertrail,”Piercesaid.“Besides,thiswillbefun.I’mlookingoutforyouguys.”

“Idon’twanttod-dothis,”CarasaidasTonysteeredhertowardthebackoftheplane.

“Stopwhining,”Piercesaid,andTonyopenedthecabindoor.

WhenAmyandDancycledintothevillagethenextmorning,Fionapokedherheadoutofthe grocery and gestured at them frantically. They hurried inside, and she closed andlockedthedoor.

“I’vegotamessageforyoufromhome,”shesaid.“Yourphonesarenolongersafe.You’resupposedtodestroythem.Ifyouneedtocommunicate,you’retogotoanInternetcafé.There’soneinthenextvillage.Andthereisaveryslightchanceyourlocationwascompromised.Theadviceis tostayputfornow.I’msupposedtotellyouthataponyischeckingeverythingout?”

“Okay,”Amysaid,nodding.Shefelthernervesstrainatthenews.

“Don’tworry.We’llkeepyousafe.Thewholevillage isonalert.Whichiswhy…”Fiona crossed to the window and peered out behind the shade. Then she let it drop.“There’ssomeoneintownaskingfordirectionstoBhaileAnois,”shesaid.“Hecheckedinlatelastnightattheinn.”

AmyandDanexchangeduneasyglances.

“Whatdoeshelooklike?”Amyasked.

Fiona narrowed her eyes. “Sneaky, for certain,” she said. “And he’s quite awaster.Goodfornothin’butcomplaining.Noraoverattheinnsaidhe’sneversatisfiedwiththetemperatureofhistea,andheaskedforacashmerethrowinhisroom.”

AmyandDanexchangedanotherglance.

“IAN,”theysaidtogether,andsighed.

“Youknowtheeejit?”Fionaasked.

“Theeejitisourcousin,”Amysaid.

“Distantcousin,”Danadded.“Very,verydistant.”

Theystrolledovertothefrontoftheinn,whereIanKabrastoodoutsidearguingwiththe desk clerk. Their tall, elegant cousin propped a rickety bicycle up with one indexfinger, as if it would contaminate him. In this rural village, he was dressed in pressedjeans,anavyjacket,andasilkydarkT-shirt.Hewasonlysixteen,buthelookedolder.

“Areyouseriouslytellingme,mygoodman,thatthisistheonlytransportationinthevillage?Surelythereisacarservice.Oragarage,whereonemighthireacar?Eveninthisbackwater?”

The red-haired youngman put his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you do this, meboyo?Takeaflyingleapatthenearestgarageyourself?Andthenyoucan—”

DanstrodeforwardandtookIan’sarm.“We’lltakeitfromhere.Thanks.”

“Dan! Amy! Thank goodness you’re here,” Ian said in his plummy British accent.“Thelocalshavebeensupremelyunhelpful.”

“Ian—”

Henarrowedhisdarkeyes.“IwaslostonthebackroadsforhourslastnightbecausewhenIaskedsomevillagerifthiswasMeenalappa,shesaidno.AndIwasstandingrightin themiddle of the village! If I ever see that youngwoman again, I’ll—” Ian’s eyeswidened.Fionawascrossingthestreettothepub.“Th-theresheis!”hesputtered.

“Hi,Fiona!”Dansaid,waving.

“Hi,Dannyboy!”shetrilledback.

“You’reacquaintedwiththatcreature?”

“Relax,Ian.”Dantriedtohidehisgrin.“Shewasjusttryingtoprotectus.”

“DidNelliecallyou?”Amyasked,irritationspikingherquestion.

“Of course she did. And Hamilton and Jonah, too,” Ian said, naming their othercousins. “They’re on alert. Reagan and Madison would come, too, but they’re bothtrainingfortheOlympics,andHamiltonwouldn’tletthem.They’reonreserve,though.”

Amygrittedherteeth.“ItoldNellienottoalertanyone.”

“Nonsense,”Iansaidbriskly.“We’reCahills.We’reinthistogether.Now,let’sgotoGrace’shouse.It’sgottobebetterthanthatshoddyinn.”

Iansniffedatthesinglebedwiththecottoncoverletandplainwhitesheets.“Ispoketoosoon.Why,ohwhy,didn’tGraceknowaboutthreadcounts?”hemoaned.

“Ihavenoideawhatyoumean,dude,butifyouinsultGraceinmypresenceagainyouaregoingtohaveoneveryfatlip,”Danrepliedcheerfully.“Ortwo.”

“I’mnot insultingher,” Ian said. “I’m just indicatingmypreference. IfonlyNataliewerehere,shewouldknowexactlywhatImean.”

Suddenly,Ian’sfaceclouded.Nataliehaddiedonlysixmonthsagoandshe’dbeenhisbabysister.Amyknewthewoundmuststillbesounbearablyfresh.

Ian cleared his throat and quickly turned away. His voice came out higher andconstricted.“SinceI’maloneinthis,Iwon’tsayanotherword.Iwillcopewiththreadbaretowelsandscratchysheetslikeagentleman.”

AmycouldtellbythewayIanwasexamininghisbeddingthathewasclosetotears.Nobodywasthatinterestedinfluffingtheirpillow.

“Wemissher,too,Ian,”shesaidgently.

Heclearedhisthroat.“Thanks.”

It would be like losing Dan, she thought. She had a glimpse into great andunquenchable grief, and if she could have produced a cashmere throw for Ian at thatmoment,shewouldhavebeenhappytoprovideit.

“Wereallyneedyourhelp,”sheadded.

Ian’sfacebrightened,andsheknewithadbeentherightthingtosay.Hewantedtobeneedednow.

Ianfollowedthemdownthestairs.“IknowyoutwoaregoingtoneedsomeLucianstrategy.”Heloweredhimselfontotheoverstuffedsofa.“SorelaxandtellmehowIcansolveallyourproblems.”

ItwasalmostaflashbacktotheformerarrogantIanthey’dknown,butnowheendedthe remarkwith a smile thatmocked his old self-centeredness. The loss ofNatalie hadchangedhim.

Amyfelthereyesmist.Withallherworryingaboutputtinghimindanger,shehadn’tstoppedtoconsiderthatIanmightneedthem,too.

Theysatoutsideonthebacklawn.Amyhadspreadoutalinenblanketandbroughtatraywith a teapot and pretty mismatched cups— Grace had always collected mismatchedchina—and a plate of cookies.Theweather hadwarmed and brightened, and the softbreezeruffledthepagesofOlivia’sbook.

Ian knewmore Latin than Amy, so he was able to translate a few things that hadstumpedher.

“Thisdowryreferenceispuzzling,”Iansaid.“Shekeepsreferringtoit,butwedon’tknowwhatitis.Isitland,ormoney,oranimals,orobjects?”

“Itdoescomeupoften,”Amyagreed.“EvenafterGideonisdead.”

Amylookedupathim.Theirfaceswereveryclose.Sherememberedwhenthosedarkexpressive eyes wouldmake her quiver inside, when being this close wouldmake herblushandstammer.Notanymore,though.

Ashadowfellovertheblanket.

“Well,well.Aren’tyoutwocozy.”

Shading her eyes,Amy looked up and,with a spurt of uncomfortable surprise, sawJake.Herheartbegantopound.Hewasstandingagainstthesun,andshecouldn’tseehisexpression.

Itwasofficial.ShewasgoingtokillNellie.

Guiltily,shescrambledtoherfeet.Nowshecouldseehisface,hisstrongnose,browneyes,darkmessyhair.Helookedtired.Andangry.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”sheasked,flustered.

“Nelliecontactedusandsaidyouneededhelp.”

“Itoldhernottodothat!”

“Yes, I can seewhy.” Jake’sgaze flicked to Ian. “Youalready reachedout forhelp,didn’tyou?Sorrytointerrupttheteaparty.”

“Ournetworkwentdown,”shesaid.“Weevenhadtogiveupourphones.Icouldn’ttextyou.”

Hegaveatenseshrug.“Doesn’tmatter.Youdon’thavetohitmeoverthehead.Igetit.”HisstonygazemovedtoIan.

“No,youdon’tgetit,”Amysaid.

Ian rose. “Good to see you, Jake,” he said. “I hope you brought your little brother.There’ssomemedievalItaliantotranslate….”

JustthenAtticusboundedupwithDan.AtticuswasJake’shalfbrother,buttheydidn’tlookmuchalike.Atticuswaswiryandintense,andhe’dinheritedhisAfrican-American’smother’sthickcurlyhair,whichheworeinshoulder-lengthdreadlocks.

“Isn’tthisfantastic?”Danasked.“JakeandAtticusinperson!”DanpunchedAtticusonthearm.“Professor!Youaresobustedforshowingupwithouttelling!”

“You don’t have a phone!” Atticus said with a grin. “It was an insurmountableimpediment,dude!”

AlthoughAtticuswasayearandahalfyounger thanDan,hemadeup for itwithavocabularythatcouldmakeacollegeprofessorhitthedictionary.

“Aren’tyousupposedtobeincollege?”Danasked.“How’dyougettimeoff?”

“Taking independent study,” Atticus explained. “Dad said I should put off HarvarduntilIwasemotionallymatureenoughtogo.”

“Emotionallymature?”Danhooted.“Yourpopwillhavetowaitaboutabillionyears,dude!”

“Iwon’thavetowaitaslongasyou,dude!”Atticusadjustedhisglassesashepeereddownattheblanket.“Hey,isthatthebookNellietoldusabout?”

Jake’seyesflickedtoOlivia’sbook.“You’vegotitoutsideinthesun?Areyououtofyourminds?”

Amycrossedherarms.“We’rebeingcareful.”

“It’s not about careful, this is a five-hundred-year-old manuscript! You should bewearinggloves—Atticusbroughtsome—andkeepingitoutofthesunlight.”

“It didn’t takeyou long to start barkingorders!”Amyexclaimed,her face flushing.“Butthenyoualwaysknowbest,don’tyou?”

“Somebodyhastobematureinthissituation,”Jakesaid,hisgazeflashingatIan,whowasnowintentlytryingtobrushcookiecrumbsoffhispants.

“True. In that case, we’d rather consult your little brother,” Ian said with a smirk.“Medievalmanuscriptsarehisfield,amIright?”

“Technically,it’searlyRenaissance,”Jakesaid.

“Thanks for the correction, my good man. Amy is right—you do know best.” IanslippedhisarmaroundAmy.“She’ssoperceptive.OneofthemanythingsIadoreabouther.”

“It’sgettingchilly.Whydon’twegoinside?”AmysuggestedbrightlyasshetriedtostepoutofthecircleofIan’sarm.

Iantooktheopportunitytorubhershoulder.“Youdofeelrathercold,”hesaid.“Let’ssitbythefire.Jake,sinceyou’resointerestedinproperhandling,whydon’tyoutakethebook?”

Jakesnatchedupthebookandfuriouslystompedofftowardthehouse.

“Youforgottoweargloves!”Iancalledafterhim.

Amypushedhimaway.“Really,Ian.”

“Whatatouchyguy,”Iansaid.“Frankly,Idon’tknowwhatyouseeinhim.”

Hewincedasthekitchendoorslammed,thenglancedatAmy’sredface.“Hmmm.Itmightbeagoodtimeformetotakeawalk,”Iansaid.

Thehousewassuddenlytoocrowded.

Withinacoupleofhours,ithadbeentransformed.Thelively,focusedcuriosityoftheRosenbloombrothersmade theairbuzz.The living roomwasnowstrewnwith teacupsandwadded-upnapkinsandplateswithhalf-eatensandwiches,andshoesonthefloorandpencils snapped in half and discarded scratch paper and Atticus’s toothbrush, becauseAtticussaidhegothisbestideaswhilehewasbrushinghisteeth.

Jake’slaptopwassecure,soatleasttheycouldnowdoresearchontheweb.Throughtheir father,Dr.MarkRosenbloom, an archaeologist, theyhad access toonline librariesthatAmyandDancouldneverhaveconsulted.SincespendingthewinterinRome,Jake’sItalianwasclosetofluent,andAtticuswasaLatinscholar.Theyhadtranslatedinafewhourswhatwouldhavetakenherdays.

“My question is this:Why was an Irish woman back then fluent in Italian?” Jakeasked.“Highlyunusual.”

“Shewasascholar,”Amysaid.“ShementionsthatherfathertaughtherLatin.”

“LatinIunderstand,eventhoughit’sunusualforhertolearnit,”Jakesaid.

“Shedidcomefromafamilyofbards,Jake,”Atticussaid.

“Beards?”Danasked.

“Bards,”Atticussaidwithasnortoflaughter.“Poets.ThelearnedscholarsofIreland.”

“Ibettheyhadbeards,though,”Dansaid,andAtticuslaughedandthrewaneraserathim.

“The Irish have an amazing scholarly history,” Jake said. “Bards were more thanpoets.Theyfoundedschools,usuallyhadnoblemanpatrons.TheywerereveredinIreland.

But—”

“Theywereallmen,”Amyfinished.“Typical.”

“Itjustdoesn’taddup,”Jakesaid,frowning.“Andthiscodeintheback…”

“Isthatunusual,too?”Danasked.

“Yesandno,”Jakesaid.“Actually,cryptographywaswidelyusedinsixteenth-centuryEurope.QueenElizabethhadaschoolforespionage.Itwasalittlelater,butstill,I’mnotsurprisedatthecode.Butwhyissheusingitinahouseholdaccountsbook?Andit’ssooddlooking…remindsmeofsomethingIcan’tplace.”

“You know what Dad says,” Atticus put in. “When you’re stumped, return to thesource.”HeturnedtoAmy.“CanIlookatthesecretroom?”

“Sure.I’llshowyou.”

Theytookthestairsuptothesecondfloor.Amypulleddownthesconce,andthestairsrose.

“That is justamazing-cool,”Atticussaid,bounding into thespace.Hepeeredather,hiseyeswideandcuriousbehindhisglasses.“DoyouthinkGracecouldhaveleftyouaclue?Aboutthecodeinthebook,Imean.Dantoldmesheleftaclueaboutthealphabetlock.”

“Ifshedid,Idon’tknowwhatitis.”Amyploppedtiredlyinthewhitechair,herhandsclasped.“Shesaidthestruggleneverends.Thatit’sonlyabandoned.Sheknewthatevenifwedestroyedtheserumwecouldneverbefree.”

“That’swhatspooksDan,”Atticussaid,prowlingaroundtheroom.“Hekeepswaitingtohavearegularlife.Itneverhappens.He’ssuperscareditneverwill.”

Shesmiledweakly.“HowcomeyouknowmybrotherbetterthanIdo?”

“Aw.WithDanyouhavetolistentohisunderneath,youknow?Notsomuchwhathesays.Anyway,Iknowhowhefeels.Eversincemymomdied,mydadthinkshe’sIndianaJones.Ikeepwaitingforhimtosettledown,butinsteadJakeandIjustgetyankedaroundtheworld.”

“I’msorry,Atticus,”Amysaid.“IthoughtyoulikedlivinginRome.”

Hesmiled.“Ido.Now.Ijusthadtoletgoofwantingsomethingelse,that’sall.Andrealizemy life is pretty cool.Andhavingabrother like Jake raiseme is amazing-cool,too.”

“Ialwaysknewyouweresmart,”Amysaid.“ButIdidn’tknowyouweresowise.”

“Not so smart if I can’t help you,” Atticus said, blushing furiously. “So is thereanythingelseherethatwouldgiveyouahint?Isthereanythingodd,anythingintheroomthatjustdoesn’tseemlikeGrace?”

“It’s all Grace, really,”Amy said. “She lovedwhite and blue. The table is old, theWindsorchair…”Shelookedacrosstheroomandsawherselfreflectedinthemirror,agirlwithout a clue. “Everything but thatmirror, I guess. Imean, she didn’t like ornatethings,andit’sgold…andifyousitinthischair,youlookrightatyourself….”

Atticus lookedat themirror.Hepushedhisglassesuphisnose in the characteristicgesturethatmeanthewasthinkinghard.Thenhespunaroundandlaughed.“Mybrainisexploding! Amy — it’s the easiest code in the world! It’s not just code, it’s mirrorwriting!”

“Mirrorwriting?Areyousure?”

“Elementary!Comeon!”

Theyhurrieddownstairs,whereAtticusexcitedlytoldtheothersabouthisdiscovery.

“Of course!” Jake exclaimed. He hit himself lightly on the side of the head.“Sometimesthingsaretooobvious.”

“This shouldn’t be so hard,” Atticus said. “Olivia is writing an instruction toMadeleine, right? ‘My Joy, my Song, you have my charge.’ If she made it too hard,Madeleinewouldn’thavebeenabletofigureitout.”

“That’swhy the referencesmight havebeen things that theybothknew,” Jake said,tappinghispencilagainstthedesk.“Afamilyvocab.LikethewayGracespoketoAmyandDan.Usingthefamiliar.”

“MaybeithassomethingtodowiththeteacherOliviatalksaboutinthepoem?”Amyasked.“‘Miomaestro.’”

“It’smorethanateacher,actually,”Jakesaid.“‘…miomaestrodivita.’Teacheroflife. It impliessomeonewhoteachesmore thanfacts—all theaspectsof life,awaytolive….Likeamentor.”

Danrecitedfrommemory.“‘…andtakeupbattlenotwitharmsbutwisdomgainedfromancientland/keptcloseandpassedfromhandtohand/tomiomaestrodivita,theeoftimelesswoman,universalman.’”

Atticussatup,hisdreads flying.“WhatdidGracesay inher letter?”heaskedAmywithsuddenurgency.“Aboutthestruggle?”

AmypickedupGrace’sjournal.“‘Iamsorrytosaythatourstruggleisneverfinished,onlyabandoned.’”She lookedup.The twobrotherswere rising from theirchairs, theirfacesfullofdisbelief,discovery,revelation….

Sherosetoherfeet.“What?”

“ ‘Art is never finished, only abandoned’!” Atticus crowed. “It’s a quote. Quitefamous,actually.”

“Nottous,dude,”Dansaid.

“There’sanoldgameJakeandIused toplay.Youknowhowyoumemorizequotesfromfamouspeopleinhistory?”

“Constantly,”Dansaid.

“Andthemirror,”Jakesaid.“Anduniversalman,ofcourse!VitruvianMan!”

Amyfrowned.“Thatfamousdrawingofthemanwithhisarmsout?Butthat’sby…”

“Andtimelesswoman!”Atticuscrowed.“TheMonaLisa!”

Amyfelt theknowledgeroarthroughherbody.“AreyoutalkingaboutLeonardodaVinci?”

“Gosh,”Dansaid.“EvenI’veheardofhim.”

“LeonardowasOlivia’steacher,”Atticussaid.“That’swhysheknewItalian.”

Jakeexcitedlyreturnedtothebook.“That’swhatthecodedpagesare.Anaccountofher travels, but in it there must be something Leonardo gave her. ‘Then he to mebequeathedit,andwithinstructionbid/andI, throughhisownmethods,hid.’Nowthatweknowthis,wecancrackthecode,Iknowwecan.”

“This is so amazing,” Atticus breathed. He stared at Dan and Amy in wonder, asthough they were suddenly priceless works of art. “The most famous man in theRenaissance,andhetaughtyourgreat-great…”

“…great-greatetceteragrandmother,”Danfinished.

“Theantidoteisinthosecodedpages,”Amysaid.“Ijustknowit.”

Which makes the book just as dangerous as the serum. Because if we possess it,someoneelsewillwantit.

Yes,Grace.Thestruggleneverends.Youknewthat.

Jakesat,writingnotesonapieceofscrappaper.AtticustappedhistoothbrushonthetableashelookedoverJake’sshoulder.Hewaskickinghislong,skinnylegs,andhisfeetinbrightredsockslookedtoobigforhisbody.

Hewasjustakid.

AndJake…thewayhemaderoomforAtticus,thewayhecasuallyputhishandonthetappingtoothbrushtostopit…

JakewasAtticus’scaretaker,hisprotector.Theyhadadistantdad,adeadmother.Thetwoofthemwouldbelostwithouteachother.

Heretheywere,aliveinthemoment,preciouslifecoursingthroughthem.

Ifsheallowedthemtohelp,theycoulddie.

Andshewouldbestandingoveranotheropengrave.

Somuchemotionwelledupinherchestthatshewasafraidshe’dburstintosobs.

Amyclearedherthroat.Shelookedatthetwobrothers.

“You’regoingtohavetoleave,”shesaid.

IanhadjumpedonabikeandheadedintheoppositedirectionfromMeenalappa.Ithadtakenhimexactlythreeminutestorealizetheplacewasabackwater.Apub,agrocery,achurch,andastoresellingrubberbootsandtweedcaps.No,thankyou.HewouldheadtothelargervillageofBallycreel.

Hepedaledhard,coolinghishotcheeks.Foroncehedidn’tmindthemist.Ifitwasn’traininginIreland,itwasabouttoorjustdid.

Heprobably shouldhavebeennicer to Jake. Itwasn’t thathedidn’t like theguy. ItwasjustthatwhenJakeandAtticushadshowedup,he’dgotten,well…

Jealous.

JealousofthewayAmysuddenlyhadeyesfornobodybutJakeandwastryingsohardtohideit.HowDanlitupwhenhesawAtticus.

NobodylitupforIan.

Heknewhewasn’tthenicestperson….

Natalieunderstoodhim.Shehadbeenequallyas…notniceashewas.

Buthewastrying!Hewaslearning!Peopledidn’tgetnicebyaccident,didthey?Theyhadparentswhowerenice.Nice to theirkids, nice toothers.Hisparents…well, theydidn’tunderstandtheconceptof“nice.”

Andtheynever,everwouldhaveunderstoodtheconceptof“lonely.”

ThatwordhadneverbeenintheKabravocab,butithadbeenbouncingaroundIan’shead lately. Itwas shockinghowmany timeshe foundhimself saying,“If onlyNataliewerehere…”

He had foughtwithNatalie and been bored byNatalie and sometimes even felt hedespisedher,butshe’dbeenhisbestfriend.Maybehisonlyfriend.

Losinghissister…well,ithadturnedouttobemuchharderthanheexpected.Sure,henolongerhadtofollowNataliearoundHarrods,holdingherpurchases,buthedidn’tknowwhathewassupposedtodo,exactly.WhenNelliehadcalledtosaythatAmyandDanneededhishelp,hehadsprungintoactionimmediately.He’dpackedafewthingsandtakenoff.Hehadn’tevenpressedhistrousers.

Nobodylikesyou,nobodylikesyou,nobodylikesyou.

Mysisterisdead,mysisterisdead….

The bicyclewheelswent round and round, slithering on thewet country road. Thewordsinhisheadrevolved.

Andsuddenlyherealizedhewasfarfromthecottage,andlost.

Themistwasnowrain.Ianwantedtokickhimself,buthe’dprobablyfalloffthebike.

Hebumpedoff to thesidetoturnthebikearoundandtookouthisphonetoconsultGPS.Then he remembered that Pony had disabled it for safety reasons.The protectivecovertoldhimtoKEEPCALMANDCARRYON.Hesnortedatthat.Didhereallyhaveachoicerightnow?

Atthatmoment,aRangeRoverbarreledaroundthecurve,sendinghimdivingintothegrass.Thecarsmashedintohisbike,whichflewafterhim.

TheRangeRoverdriverslammedonthebrakes.Withasquealoftires,itbackedup.

“Youbloodyfool!”Ianshouted.

Agirlwithredhairstuckherheadoutofthedriver’ssidewindow.“Well,thatdidn’tgowell.Whatwereyoudoinginthemiddleoftheroad?”sheasked.Heheardtheliltofabrogue inhervoice.Hecouldn’twait togetback toLondon,wherepeopledidn’thavemusicintheirvoices.

Ianpoppedtohisfeet.“Iwasnotinthemiddleoftheroad!Iwasontheshoulder!”

“Incaseyouhaven’tnoticed,thisroaddoesn’thaveashoulder,”sheanswered.“It’sacountry lane, notmuchwider than a path, actually.You have towatch yourself on ourroads,youtourists.”

Ianbristledatbeingcalledatourist.“Maybeyouhavetowatchyourdriving!”

Shesmiled,andIansuddenlynoticedthatthegirlwasravishinglypretty.Shehadonedimple in her left cheek.What kind of a girl had only one dimple? Ian didn’t care forasymmetry,butsomehowthisparticularone…worked.

“Sure,IsupposeIdo,”shesaid.“Butit’smyda’scar,andsoIliketogiveitaworkoutandbringitbackmuddy.Bytheway,areyouallright?”

“Thinkso,thanksfortheafterthought,”Iansaid.

Hersmileturnedintoagrin.Sheopenedthedoorandjumpedout.“Oh,dear,lookatyourbicycle.I’mafraidit’srathersmashed.”

Iansawthatthefrontwheelhadbent.“Thisjusttopsoffmyday.”

“Don’tfret,I’vegotanicebigcarandtimeonmyhands.”

BeforeIancouldprotest,shehadliftedupthebikewithsurprisingeaseanddepositeditinthetrunkofthecar.“Now.WherecanIdropyou?”

Normally,thiswouldcountasonestellarday.He’dgladlytradeasmashedbicycleforaprettygirl inaveryexpensivecar.Butnot today.HehadtogetbacktoBhaileAnois.TheargumentwithJakehadbeenpettyandstupid.

“Don’tworry,I’mnotacriminal.I’mjustagirlinherdaddy’scarwhoiswillingtorescueyou.I’mMaura,bytheway.”

“Roger,” Ian said, because while this was an extremely pretty girl, he was still aLucian,andaKabra.Anypersonalinformationwasonaneed-to-knowbasis.

“Heynow,youdroppedyourphone.”Shebentandpickeditupandhandedittohim.Their fingers touched, briefly, and Ian felt something, some kind of charge from justtouchingherskin.

Hefelthisfaceheatup.Thatneverhappened.Tocover,hedroppedthephoneinhispocket.“YoucouldgivemealifttoBallycreel.”Thevillagewasbigenoughthatitwouldprovidecover.AndhecouldhikebacktoBhaileAnoisfromthere.

“Areyoustayingthere,then?AttheArms,orthePocketofFish?”

“PocketofFish,”Iansaid.

“Climbin,”shesaid.“Iknowashortcut.”

Ianclimbedin.Mauratookoff,drivingwaytoofast.Iantriednottoclutchthedoorhandle.

“WeliveinDublin,butwehaveahousedowninDoolin.Acastle,morelike.IpreferanIrishcastletoaScottishone,don’tyou?Abettersenseofscale.Themoremodern,thebetter, ifyouaskme.Thosesixteenth-centuryonesaredrafty,nomatterhowmuchtheypumpupthecentralheating.”

Okay,notonlywassheprettybutshecouldcomparethemeritsofcastles.Thiswashistypeofgirl.

“I don’t have thatmuch experiencewith castles,” Ian said.Despite the fact that hisfathernowlivedinone.

Shegavehimaquickonce-over.“Don’tbesomodest.YourjacketiscashmerefromBrioni’slastseason.YourshoesarehandmadefromJohnLobb.Anddon’tgetmestartedonyourhaircut.”

“Actually,Ipreferanestate,”Iansaid.“Earlynineteenthcentury,withcentralheating.You’reright.Castlesaredrafty.”

Shegrinned.“Here’stheshortcut.”

She jerked the wheel, and the Range Rover slammed onto a dirt track that wasprobablyforsheep.Overtherattleofthecar,Ianshouted,“Isthisaroad?”

“ItisifIsayitis!”Maurashouted.“ItoldyouIlikedtobringitbackmuddy!Ionlylikemydawhenhe’sfuming!”

She gave a peal of laughter that made Ian join in. He’d heard the term infectiouslaughter before, but he never quite understood it. He rarely laughed, and certainlywouldn’tdoitjustbecausesomeoneelsedid.

ButastheRangeRoverhitaditchandhisheadbumpedtheceiling,hedidn’tcare.Hejustkeptonlaughing.

ShedroppedhimonthemainstreetofBallycreel.Ianhauledthebicycleoutofthetrunk.

“I’doffertopayforit,butIknowyoucanaffordit,”shesaid.

AsmallspotofmudwasonMaura’s(undimpled)cheek.Herfacewasflushedfromtheirwildride,andhergreeneyesdanced.

Itmadehisheartleap,somehow.Oddfeeling.

“Thanksfortheride,”hesaid.“Ifyoucancallitthat.”

“Callmesometime,”shesaid.Shetuckedasmallcardintohispocket.

Withonelastflirtatiouslook,shehoppedbackintothecarandtookoff.

Ianstareddownatthecard.MAURADEVONCARLISLE.Therewasanumberbelowit.Thecard stockwas smooth and heavy in his hand. The typeface discreet, yet bold. Exactlywhathewouldhavechosen.

AssoonastheRangeRoverwasoutofsight,hetoreupthecardandthrewitaway.

Betternottobetempted.Bettertoletitgo.

Ian left the bicycle in an alley.He started the longwalk back to BhaileAnois, hisfootstepsontheasphaltroad,hispacesteadyandsureinhisexpensivehandmadeshoes.

Lonely.Lonely.Lonely.

Atticusstoppedswinginghislegs.JakesatstaringatAmy.Dansatuponthecouch.Hissister’sgreeneyeswereusuallywarm,butnowtheylookedashardasmetal.Whatwasshedoing?

“Whatdidyousay?”Atticusasked.

Amyliftedherchin.“ThisisaCahillmatter.It’sourproblemtosolve.”

“Excuseme?” Jakeasked. “Atticus justbroke themirror code.Doyou realizewhatyouhavehereinthisbook?Itisanimmeasurablegifttoscholarship—whoknowswhatitcontainsaboutLeonardo!”

“Thisisn’tacollegeseminar,”Amysaidevenly.“Thisisabattle.Andit’snotyours.We are grateful for your help. But you should head back to Rome first thing in themorning.”

“But —” Dan started, but Amy silenced him with her stay out of this look. Dansnappedhismouthshut,buthefelthisbloodbeginningtoboil.

Jake’smouthhungopen.Helookedasthoughhe’djustbeenpunchedinthehead.Orthestomach.Someplacereally,reallybad.

“Thisisaboutfamily,”Amysaid.“TheCahillscantakeitfromhere.”

Atticus looked as though hewas about to cry. Behind his glasses, hewas blinkingrapidly.

“Hey,”Dansaid,“canwetakeavoteonthis?”

“No.”Amy’svoicewasfirm.“I’mtheheadofthefamily.Thisismycall.”

“Youmaybethehead,”Dansaidfuriously.“You’renotadictator!”

Ianwalkedthroughthedoor.“You’renotgoingtobelievewhathappenedtome—”hestarted,thenstopped,hisgazemovingfromJaketoAmytoDantoAtticus.Hetossedhisphoneonthedesk.“WhatdidImiss?”

HisphonelandedrightnexttoJake’s.Danreadthewords.KEEPCALMANDCARRYON.Howodd that the twoboys, sodifferent in temperament,had thesamephonecase.Thewell-known phrase bounced around his head. He didn’t feel calm. He didn’t feel likecarryingon.Hewantedto throwbothphonesintothetoiletfor tellinghimtodosuchalamethingwhenallhewantedtodowasyellandchangewhatwashappening.

“Nothing,”Jakesaid.“Youdidn’tmissathing.”

“Shedidn’tmeanit,”AtticuswhisperedtoJakelater.“Icouldtellbyhereyes.”

Jakewasballingupclothesandshovingthemintohispack.“Shemeanteveryword.”

“Jake,ifyoucouldjusttalktoher—”

“I’vetalkedtoher.Listen,littlebro,we’redonehere.Thisisthelastpieceofbusinesswe’lldofortheCahills.”Hesaidthelastwordbitterly.

“She doesn’t really want us to go,” Atticus said miserably. “And Dan definitelydoesn’t!”

“Danisnottheboss.Amyis.Asshemadeveryclear.”Jakezippeduphispack.“Getyour stuff together. I called the village and hired a car.We’re leaving first thing in themorningfortheairport.”

Firstlight.Amyheardthefaintthudofthedoorclosing.Sherantothewindow.ThedarkshapesofJakeandAtticusheadedtowardacar in thedrive.Atticusseemedcrushedbythe enormous backpack he wore on his shoulders. Jake had slung his pack over oneshoulder,andhestrodequicklytowardthecar,asifhecouldn’tgetawayfastenough.

Shewantedtorundownstairs,throwopenthedoor,andbegthemtostop.Instead,shelookedaway.

Her door creaked open.Dan stuck his head in. “You’re awake.”He hovered in thedoorway.“Thatwasareallylousythingtodo.”

Amypressedher forehead against the cold glass. “Dan, doyou remember beingonthatbridge?Doyourememberthatterror?HowcanIaskthemtorisktheirlivesforus?”

“You’renotaskinganythingofanybody,”Dansaid.“We’reallvolunteershere.AndIknow one thing. You’re wrong. Jake and Atticus are family. You’re turning into AuntBeatrice!”

“That’snotfair!”Amycried.“Ihavetomakethedecisions.You’retheonewhowantstoleavethefamily!Whyshouldyougetavote,Dan?Youoptedout,remember?”

“I’mhererightnow!”Danshotback.“Watchingyoubemean!”

Theystaredateachother,furious.

Theyheardaninsistentpoundingdownstairs.SheandDandoveforthestairs.

Amy got to the door first. Fiona’s hand was raised to knock again, her dark hairshimmeringwithdropletsfromthedawnmist.“There’sablackSUVinthevillage,”shesaid.“They’relookingforyou.You’vegottoclearout.”

Amy’sheadclearedandshesnappedintosurvivalmode.“How?”

“Boat.”

“Giveusfiveminutes.”

Amy and Dan raced upstairs and woke Ian. They threw things into backpacks,wrappedOlivia’s book in awaterproof bag, andwithin fiveminutes had locked up thehouseandrundowntothedock.

Fionastoodonthedeckofasmallmotorboat.ShereachedoutahandtohelpAmyandIanaboard.“I’llgetyouout,don’tworry.Iknoweveryrockandeveryeddyinthatbay.I’vegotsomefellasinthevillagetohelp—andsomedonkeys.They’llblocktheroad.Declanwillmeetusonthewater.Canyoucastoffthatlineforme,Danny?”

Danthrewthelineintheboatandjumpedin.Fionaexpertlypilotedthemthroughthewindingcurvesoftheinlet.“I’llheadnorthandpullinatRunnybegCreek.It’snotonthemapandwe’vejustenoughdrafttomakeit,”shecalled.“It’sjustpastthatturningthere.”

Beforetheyreachedtheturning,aboatexplodedoutof thegraymist,cuttingacrosstheinletstraighttowardthem.

“Hangon!”Fionashouted,andshejerkedthewheelhardtotheleft.Theboatheeledononeside,andshecutacrosstheinlet,skimmingbetweenclumpsofrocks.

“We’regoingtohavetoheadfor thechannel,”sheshouted.“Ican’treverseandgetbacktoRunnybegnow.”

Dan looked behind them. The black boatwas going slower, no doubt because theydidn’thaveFiona’sknowledgeof the inlet.The rockscould tearahole in thehull.Theboat looked likeapowerfulmachine,adark sharkmoving through thewater. “Areyousureyoucanoutrunthem?”

Fionaglancedbehindherforasplitsecond,andhesawthedoubtflickeronherface.“Possiblynot,”shesaid,jerkingherchinforward.“ButIcanoutwitthem.”

As she said this, she suddenly swerved the boat into a narrow channel Dan hadn’tnoticed.Asshefollowedthetwistingchannel,shegraduallyincreasedherspeed,andthentheharboropenedupinfrontofthem.

Itwas just past dawn, and the graywaterwas still splashedwith pink. The fishingboatswerealreadyspecksonthefarsideoftheharbor,headedouttodeeperwater.Fionazigzaggedthroughtheanchoredcraft,herhandssureandexpertonthewheel.Thelargerboathadtroublefollowingher,soitveeredoffintothedeeperwateroftheharbor.

“They’regoingtocutusoff!”Amyyelledoverthesoundofthewindandthewaterthumpingagainstthehull.

Fiona didn’t answer. Her lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed. By slippingthroughtheanchoredboats,shebegantoangletowardshore.

“We’ll gain some timewhen the baywidens,” she shouted. “They’re too far out tocatchus.Atleastforabit.”

Abitdidn’tsoundtooencouraging,Danthought,buthefeltarushofexhilarationastheirboatshotoutintoopenwater.Fionaopenedupthethrottle.Theboatslammeddownonthewaves,andspraydrenchedtheirfaces.

Theywere ahead now, and gaining yard after yard.Dan looked behind again.Eventhoughthey’dshotahead,judgingbythespeedoftheotherboatitwouldn’tbeforlong.Eventuallytheotherboatwouldovertakethem.

HemovedclosertoFiona.“What’stheplan?”heasked.

“IfIcanoutrunthemandwemakeittothecliffs,Icanlosethem.There’saway.”

“Thecliffs?”

“TheCliffsofMoher.They lie southofus. If Icangetus there fastenough.That’swhereDeclanandhisfriendswillbe.”

“Buthowcanhehelpus?”

“HANGON!”Fionascreamed,suddenlycuttingthewheelhardright.Theboatheeledupononeside,andDandizzilyhungontothecabinrail.Hesawabuoypassinchesfromhisnose.

Theywereoutintheoceannow,theswellsimpedingtheirprogress.Theboatrolledastheycutacrossthewaves,andDanfelthisstomachseize.Hekepthiseyesonthehorizon.

“They’regainingonus,”Iancalledfromthestern.

“I can’t get her to go any faster,” Fiona said through gritted teeth. “We’re almostthere.”

Thenthesunbrokethroughthemistandfog,andthroughthefaintraystheysawthecliffs rise before them, majestic and touched with morning light. Seabirds dove andwheeledabovethem.

“Whoa,”Dan called. “Those are some insane cliffs!What are they, a thousand feetup?”

“Almost…thetallestismorelikesevenhundred,”Fionasaid,glancingbehindherattheblackboat.“It’souronlychance—they’llbeonusinaminuteortwo.Butwe’llhavecompanyonthewater,atleast.TheAileensarerunning.Luckyforus,ifwecanmanagenottosink.”

DanpicturedateamofIrishgirlsrunningalongacliff.Whywouldthathelpthem?

“WhoaretheAileens?”Amyasked.

“AillNaSearrach.It’saperfectwave,”Fionasaid.“Ifconditionsareright,andtodaytheyare,theycangetasbigasthirty,fortyfeet.”

“Didyousayfortyfeet?”Ianyelled.

“Whatarethoseislandsoutthere?”Amyasked,pointingtowardmassivehillsaheadofthem.

DansawFionagripthewheelharder.“Thosearen’tislands.They’rewaves.”

Dansquintedintothedistance.Theydidn’tlooklikewaves.Theylookedlikedistantislandsthatslowlymovedacrossthesurfaceuntiltheygrewintomassivewallsofwater.

Theboatpursuingthemswungofftotheleft,edgingthemclosertoshore.ClosertotheAileens.

“Iwon’tbeabletoholdtheboatinthatsurf!”Fionayelled.“We’llbreakup!AndifIgoouttosea,they’llovertakeus!”

Dancouldseethefiguresonthedeck,themendressedinblackwithblacksunglasses.Herecognizedone,ashortmanwithablondbuzzcutinatightT-shirt.Hewasthemanwho’dheldhimonthebridge.Themanraisedarifle.

“Getdown!”Danscreamed.

Fiona didn’t move. A bullet smashed into the instrument board, cracking thespeedometer.DancrawledoverandyankedFionadown.Shekeptonehandonthewheel.

“Areyoucrazy?”

Herfacewaswhite,andherteethchattered.“Ididn’tthinkthey’dactuallyshoot!”Shelookedatthetorn-updashboard.“Withrealbullets!”

“Juststaydown,”Danordered.

“If I can’t see, I can’t steer!” she shouted. “We’ll either smash into the rocksorgetsweptintothesurf,andthatwillbetheendofus!”

Danglancedback.“Ithinkthat’swhatthey’regoingfor,”heanswered.

Themenstood,theriflesheldlooselyintheirhands.Hecouldfeeltheboatgroanasitbuckedagainsttheswell.IftheyallowedFionatosteer,therewasnodoubtthatshewould

bekilled.Butiftheydidn’tsteer,they’ddriftstraightintothosethirty-footwavesahead,orintotherocks.

Therewasahugetearingnoise,andtheboatshuddered.“We’vehitsomething!”Fionashouted.“Ian,canyougobelow?”

Ianbentoverandcrab-walkedtothecabinasanothersprayofbulletsthuddedintotheboat.Heswunghimselfdowntheladder.

Amomentlaterhestuckhisheadout.“It’sbad,”heyelled.“Wehitarock,andthere’swaterpouringin.”

“They’llpickusoff ifwejumpinthewater,”Fionasaid.Shewasstillpale,butshewasnolongershaking.Herchinwassetasshescannedthebaybehindthem.“Whereareyou,Declan,youeejit?”Hervoicebrokeasshesearchedfranticallybehindtheboat.

AmycrawledforwardtositwithDan,theirbacksagainstthecabindoor.Theboatwasnowlistingtooneside.Anotherwavepummeledthem,andtheyslidalittlefarthertowardtherailing.Itwouldn’tbelongnowbeforetheboatbrokeup.Themenontheotherboatheldtheirrifles,waitingforthemtolandinthecoldwater.

“Fiona,”shesaid.

Danknewwhatshemeant.Anotherinnocent.Anotherlifethey’dplacedindanger.

“Ihavetomakesureshemakesit,”Amysaid.“Soyou—justswim.Swimasfastasyou can. Thewater will be cold. You need to keep yourmuscleswarm. TakeOlivia’sbook.Anddon’tlookbackforme.I’llstaywithFiona.I’llgethertoshore.”

Danlookedat theroilingwater.Therocks.Thesheercliffs.Itwouldbeamiracleiftheycouldmakeittoshore.ButhehadnointentionofswimmingforitwithoutmakingsureAmywasokay.Lessthananhouragohe’dbeenfuriousather.Nowhe’ddoanythingtosaveher.

“Pieceofcake,”hesaid.

“Theretheyare!”Fionaburstout.

Dansquintedagainstthesun.Smalldarkshapesweremovingquickly,flyingoverthesurfaceofthewater…JetSkis.Eachofthemheldapilotandpassenger,andeachofthemweretowingsomethinglongandsleek….

“Surfboards?”Danasked.

“It’sDeclanandhiscrew,”Fionasaid.“TheJetSkistowthembehindthepeakofthewave,andtheyrideitin.They’rethefewmadenoughtosurfAileens.”

“Theysurfthosewaves?”Iansaid,incredulous.

TheJetSkisveeredandcamestraight toward them.Thepathwould take themrightbetween their boat and theblack sharkboat.Themenon theboat quickly stowed theirrifles.

Theyzoomedcloser,formingawedgeandmakingstraightfortheirboat.

Oneofthesurfersraisedamegaphone.“Needhelpoverhere?”

“Yes!” Fiona shouted, standing andwaving. The Jet Skis surrounded the boat. Themenontheotherboatwouldn’tdareshootnow.

DeclansatonthebackofaJetSki,dressedinawetsuit.“Lookslikeyoucouldusealift,”heyelled.HegesturedtothesurfersperchedonthebackoftheJetSkis.“ThesearemymatesSean,Rory,andPatrick.Climbaboard.”

“You first, Fiona,” Amy said. She hesitated, then thrust Olivia’s book into Fiona’shands.“Takecareofthis.”

“I’lltakearidewithSean,there,”Fionasaid,indicatingared-hairedboywithbrightblueeyesthatwerefastenedonFiona.“He’lltakemebacktothebeachatDoolin.I’lltakeyour packs; we’ve got storage under the seat.” In just a moment, the backpacks andOlivia’sbookwerestowedaway.

“Isthatwhereyou’lltakeus?”DanaskedasheclimbedaboardbehindDeclan.

“Can’t.Theboatwouldjustfollowyouinandpickyouoffwhenyoudock,”Declansaid.“Andthere’sfellasonshoreatDoolin,waiting.You’regoingtohavetogettoshoreadifferentway.”

Amy slid off the boat behind Rory. With a grimace, Ian sat behind Patrick. Theyrockedinthewaterforamomentastheboattiltedover.Waterpouredontothedeck.

“Youowemeaboat,Fee!”Declanshoutedtohissister,grinning.

DanlurchedbackwardastheJetSkitookoff.Hewasgladtobeleavingthebadguysinthedust,butitwouldhelpifatthemomenthewasn’theadingtowardasetofthirty-footwaves.

“Areyoutakingustothebeach?”heyelledintoDeclan’sear.

Declanpointedtoawaveashighasabuilding.“Onlyonewaytogetthere,mate.TheJetSkiscan’tmaneuverinthosewaves.”

“We’regoingto”—Danswallowed—“surfin?”

“You’llbeonthebeachinlessthanthreeminutes!”Declanyelled.“Allyouhavetodoisholdon.”

TheJetSkislicedthroughthewater.Theywerenowpastthebreak.TheJetSkiroseonthehighswell,thenskieddownhillontheotherside.Whenithitthetrough,Danfeltthethudinhisbones.

“They come in sets of seven,”Declan yelled. “We’re going to swing in behind thepeak.Seethebarrelshape?’Tisabeautifulthing.We’regoingtoshootrightinsideoneofthose.”

Dan swallowed.Hewas shaking from cold and fear.He glanced back atAmy. Shegavehimashakythumbs-up.Ianjustlookeddeterminedandterrifiedatthesametime.

Theboypiloting the JetSki lookedout at theocean.Apparently,he sawsomethingDancouldn’t.“Herewego!Nextset!”

TheJetSkisidlednow,andtheycouldheareachother.

“Timetogetontheboards,”Declansaid.

Gingerly,Danmaneuveredhimselfonto theboard.Declan toldhimhowtoholdon.Dan’steethwerechatteringsoloudlyhecouldheartheconstantirregularrhythm.

“Won’tbelongnow,mate,”Declansaid.“Justaminuteortwo.”

Danlookedover.IanandAmywereontheboardsaswell.

“No time towaste,”Patrick shouted, pointingwith his chin at the black boat.Theycouldjustmakeoutthemenstandingonthedeck,stillwatchingthem.Oneofthemhadbinocularstrainedonthem.

NowDancouldseetheswellofthewave,likeanenormousleviathanmovingthroughthewater.

“Whenit’soverthereef,itwillstarttobreak,”Declansaid.

“Let’sgo!” the JetSkipilot called, and they shot forwardat top speed.Declan rosegracefully,hisfeetspreadontheboard,balancingeasilyastheyslicedthroughthewater.

Theyangledintotheformingwave.Danfelthisbodycrouchingontheboardlikeafrozenthing,hismindscreamingoneword.

Nooooooooo!

Thenthewallofwaterroaredtowardthemandtheboardshotforward.

Dan’s stomach dropped as the power of the wave picked them up and hurtled themforward.Hewasatthemercyofaforcesohugeitseemedtosucktheairfromhislungs,andhisheadwasfilledwithabooming,primalenergythatpushedthoughtoutofhisbrainandmadehimpulsewithpurefeeling.

Theyshot throughagreen icy tubeofwater.Heguessedhewas screaming,but theroar of the surf was too big around him and holding the slippery board was too hard.Declan’severyshiftofweightcausedanotherjoltofpureterrortoshootthroughhim.

Through the tunnel of water he could see another surfer ahead, Amy clutching theboard.Theywereparalleltoshore,surfingdownthecurve.Dancouldfeelthepowerofthecollapsingwavebehindthem.

“Hangon,we’regoingtoturn!”Declanshouted.

Asifhecouldhangonanymorethanhewas!Declanshiftedhisbody,andtheboardturnedintowardshore.Danblinkedthesprayoutofhiseyes.Ahead,theothersurferhaddonethesame.HesawAmyslidingacrosstheboard,andthenshetumbledoff,intothechurningsurf!

Hedidn’thesitate.Herolledofftheboard,intotheicywater.

Immediately,hefeltthefuryofthewave,andhestruggledtokeephisheadabovetheswirlingfoam.Hewaslikeastickbobbinginitspropulsiveforce.Thewavewaslikeananimal,somethingalivethatcouldeasilysnaphisbodyintwo.

He tensed his body, holding it straight, picking up the pulse of the greatwave.Hewould drown if he got caught in the roiling sea. He had to keep going, find Amysomewhereinthewave.

Ahead, he caught a glimpse of brown— seaweed? No, Amy’s hair, streaming outbehind her! She, too, was trying to bodysurf the wave. Declan was trying to slow hisboard,tryingtokeepAmyinsight.

Theminutesseemedforever.ThesaltstungDan’seyesandhecouldnolongerfeelhisfingers.Hecouldseethebeachahead,andhereachedoutforAmy,tryingtograbherfoot,orherclothing….

Thewaveexplodedaroundhim,roaring,crashing,andhefeltthedragoftherecedingwavepullinghimbackward,buthefoughttostayup,stayahead,swimmingnowforhislife,swimmingtowardAmy….

Whowasnowflailing,herarmsinherheavywoolsweaterdraggingherdownunderthewave.Dandovestraightdown.Thepullofthewavereceded,andhecouldjustmakeoutthepaleformofAmy’sflutteringhand.

Heswamdeeper,reachingout,reachingforthathand.Andgraspedit.

Hetuggedherforward,swimminguntilhethoughthisheartwouldburstinhischest.Hehookedhisarmaroundherandpushedup,uptowardthefaintlight.

He broke through the surface, gasping, andDeclanwas there, astride his board, hisface anguished.He reached down and draggedDan andAmy over his board. Then hepaddledtoshore.

The other surfers and Ian came running. Together, they got Dan and Amy on thebeach.Amydoubledover,coughing.

Declansat,hisheadbetweenhisknees,hiswholebodyshuddering.Hiscockyattitudewaswipedawaybyneardisaster.

Danlayonthebeach,tryingtocatchhisbreath.

Amy lookedup throughher tangleofwethair.“Savedmy lifeagain,bro,” shesaidraggedly.“Ioweyoutwo.”

Up above, Sean and Fiona ran down the cliff’s switchback trail, their arms full ofblankets. Amy tried to struggle to her feet. No doubt her knees were just as liquid asDan’s.Ianshooksandoutofhistrouserpockets.

“Declan,we’vegottomove,”Patricksaid.“We’veonlygotafewminutesbeforetheycalltoshoreandtellthemwe’llbecomingupthecliffs.”

“Right.”Declanstood,tossinghisdarkhairoutofhiseyes.

Theblackboatwasjustadotinthedistance,headingbackthewayitcame.

Danrealizedhewasfreezing,shakingsobadlyhewashavingtroublewalking.Fionarandownthebeachand threwablanketaroundAmy, thenDan.“Comeon,”sheurged.“There’snotime.”

Theyfollowedthesurfersupthepathtoacaravanofvehicles.Declanledthewaytohis truck. He opened the doors for them. “I’ll be back in a tick,” he said, and thendisappearedintothevanparkednexttothem.

Theyfellintothetruck,shivering.Fionapassedinathermosandcups.“Thisisniceandhot;itwillwarmyouup.Declanwilldriveyoutotheairport.There’saprivateplanethere.Here’sthenumberofthepilot.He’lltakeyouanywhereyouneedtogo.”Herblueeyeswere fierce.“You’llbesafe, Ipromiseyou.Declancandrive like thedevilandheknowsthesebackroadslikenobodyelse.”

“Hesurfslikethedevil,too,”Dansaid.Theshakingwascomingundercontrol.

Declan reappeared, now dressed in jeans and a thickwool sweater, his hair slickedback.Heslidbehindthewheel.

“Good-bye,Fiona,”Amysaid.“Thankyouforeverything.That’snotnearlyenoughtosay,but…”

“Don’tworry,”Fionasaid.“We’llmeetagain.I’msureofit.”Sheshutthedoor,thengavethetruckapat.Declanhitthegasandtheytookoff,sprayingdirtastheypeeledoutofthelot.

Itwasn’tuntil theywerehalfway to theDublinairport that theywarmedupcompletelyandAmyfeltherbrainbeginningtoworkagain.

“Howdidtheyfindus?”shewondered.“Wehaven’tusedourphonesfore-mail.Wehardlyleftthehouseinthepasttwodays….”

“Except for Ian,”Dansaid.“Didyounoticeanythingsuspiciouswhenyouwent foryourwalk?”

Ianshookhishead.“Nosurveillance.Iwouldhaveseenit.Justmeandmybike.Ofcourse,Ialmostgotrunover,butthatwasanaccident.”

“Accident?”Amyaskedsharply.

“MybikemetthefenderofaRangeRover,”Iansaid.“LuckyformeIwasn’tonitatthetime.ThedrivergavemearideasfarasBallycreel.”

Amywasinstantlysuspicious.“Whatwashername?”

“Howdoyouknowitwasagirl?”

“BecauseifIwasgoingtotrytoputatrackonusthroughyou,I’duseagirltodoit,”Amyanswered.

“HernamewasMaura,andshewasn’tsomespy,shewasaverylovelyandveryrichyoungwomaninherdaddy’sexpensivecar,andshegavemeaveryshortrideoversomeverybumpyfieldstothenearestvillage,”Iansaidhuffily.“Endofstory.”

“Howdidtheaccidenthappen?”Danasked.

“Idon’tappreciatebeingcross-examined,”Iansaid.“I’maLucian.IknowwhatI’mdoing.Ididn’ttellthegirlmyrealname.ImadesureshewasgonebeforeIwalkedbacktoBhaileAnois.”

“Didthisgirlasktouseyourphone?”Amyasked.

“No. Itwasneveroutofmypossession.Except…” Ian suddenly stopped.His facewentred.“Exceptwhenshehitthebicycle,Idoveforcover,andthephoneflewoutofmyhands….”

“Andshepickeditup.”Amyheldoutherhand.“Letmeseeyourphone.”

“This is ridiculous!” Nevertheless, Ian sighed and dug in his leather backpack. Hehanded his phone toAmy. ThewordsKEEP CALM AND CARRY ONmocked him from thecover.

Amyturnedon thephone.She lookedat it, thenhanded itback.“Youhave to inputyourcode.”

Witharollofhiseyes,Iantypedinhisnumbercode.

Iantypeditinagain.

He turned thephonearound inhishands. “This isn’tmyphone! It’s all scuffedandscratched.”Helookedup.“Jakemusthavetakenmyphonebymistake.”

Thoughts tumbled in Amy’s head. It all made sense. “She put a tracker on yourphone,”shesaid.“That’showthey trackedus to thearea.ButJake tookyourphonebymistakethismorning.Thatmeansthey’renowtrackinghim.”

AmyquicklydialedIan’scellnumber.Ian’svoicecameontheline.“You’vereachedme.Leaveamessage.Don’tmakeittedious.Good-bye.”

“He’snotpickingup,”Amysaidfrantically.“Ifthere’satrackeronhisphone,Pierceandhismenknowwhereheis.They’llgoafterhimandAtticus!”

Attleboro,Massachusetts

NelliehaddiscoveredsomethingaboutPony:Hewasmoredocileifhewasfed.

She could easilywhip up a five-courseFrenchmeal, but Pony preferred the basics.Hergrilledcheesemadehimswoon.Especiallywhenshemadehimherhomemadepotatochips,roastedwitholiveoilandseasalt.

“Muchhealthierforyou,dude,”shetoldhim.

She’dfedhimdinnerandsnacksfordaysnow.Hedidn’tseemmuchclosertogivingherwhatshewanted:asecuredigitalnetwork.Still,hewasagenius.Anditwashardtogetcompletelyannoyedatsomeonewhohadnicknamedher“goddess.”

Ponygroanedashescoopedupthelastbiteofspaghetticarbonara.Hepickeduptherest of his crumbs of garlic breadwith amoistened index finger.Then he leaned back,closedhiseyes,andbelched.

Stillwithhiseyesclosed,hesaid,“Insomecultures,thatisacompliment.ThoughI’mnotcertainthat’sactuallytrue.”

“IfIhadInternetaccess,Icouldlookitup,”Nelliesaidpointedly,clearinghisplate.

“Whoa. I am operating at full maximum,” he protested. “This hackitude is off thecharts. It’s April May we’re talking about,” he added, lowering his voice the way healwaysdidwhenhe spokeof thehacker. “She—or he— is the supremeghostnettingempress of all time. She’s hacked into AT&T, federal agencies, the government ofBulgaria … even Disney World! I can’t clear your network until I know it’s totallyprotected.Youunderstand?Ithastobeafortressofimpregnability.”

Shesetoutabowlofhomemadebutterscotchicecream,hisfavorite,butsheheldthespoonintheair.“Ican’tkeeprunningtorandomInternetcafés,andneithercanAmyandDan.Weneedphones!”

“Well,sinceIcannotdisappointmylady,Iwillgiveyouapresent.”Ponyreachedintooneofhisenormouspocketsandbroughtoutapileofsmartphones.“YourownpersonalfortressofCahillimpregnability.And,ifallgoeswell,I’llhavealaptopforyoulaterontonight.Now that Iknowwho I’mdealingwith, I’vebeenable toensure that thesearesafe.AndI’llbetotallymonitoringatalltimes.NowcanIhavethespoon?”

Nelliehandedittohim,thenhuggedthephone.“Wherehaveyoubeenallmylife?”shecroonedtoit.

Ponysnickered.“I’vebeenplayingacat-and-mousegamewithAprilMay.Exceptit’sinvisiblecat,invisiblemouse.Shedoesn’tknowthatI’vemanagedawayin.Iamspyingonher,too.Ifoundherbackdoorandusedit.Asmallbreachshewillneverdiscover,butenoughtotellmethings.Iamcloserthanclosetomakingusafortressindeed.”PonyeyedthepitcherofhotfudgesauceNelliehadplacedonthetable.“Andifyoupassthatpitcher,Iwillrevealanuggetofinformationthatwillpleaseyouandinstantlyreturnmetoyourgoodgoddessgraces.”

Nelliepushedthepitcherforward.“Spill.Notthefudgesauce.Theinfo.”

“While Ihavebeendiligentlyworkingon fortressingupyournetwork, IhavehadafewminutesofdowntimeinwhichItrolledaroundforyourotherrequest.”

Nellieleanedforward.“YoufoundoutsomethingaboutPierce.”

“Indeed.” Pony took a heaping spoonful of ice cream. “In addition to snatching upmedia companies right and left, our Malevolent Malefactor, J. Rutherford Pierce, has,underavarietyofshellcompanies,boughtapharmaceuticalresearchlabrightoutsideofWilmington,Delaware—”

“Delaware!”Nellieexclaimed.

“—andfireditsemployees.”Withthespooninhismouth,hefishedintohispocketand extracted a piece of paper. He pushed it across the table to Nellie. “Here’s theaddress.”

“Whywouldhebuy…”DreadinvadedNellie,aslowrealizationthattookherbreath.“Howbigisthelab,Pony?”

“Bigoutfit.Theyused tomanufacture lotsofdrugs.Cold remedies.Andeverybodygetscolds!”

“Sotheinfrastructureisthere….”Nellieswallowed.Shechewedonherlip.“Itcouldbe…itreallycould.Itmakessense.”

“Waitingforyoutodownloadonme,goddess.”

“Amywasright.Thosethugswhocameafterthem…theirstrength.Theirpower.It’snotjustPiercewhotooktheserum!HetookSammy’sworkandhe…heusedittocreatethosehyperstronghenchmen.There’sareasonheboughtthatlab.”

Ponystaredather,uncomprehending.

“He’sgoingtomanufacturetheserum!He’splanningonmass-producingit!Whyelsewouldhebuyalab?”

“Andthatwouldbebad?”

Nelliestoodupandpaced.“Itwouldbecatastrophic.Hecoulddoanything!Createanarmy of supermen. Squads of tactical leaders. All under his control. Because he’d becontrollingtheserum.Don’tyousee?Hecanmakethemostpowerfularmyintheworld!Ifhe’stheonetodecide,ifhe’stheonetocontrolwhogetsit…hecouldcreateawholenetwork of Piercers. People strong enough and clever enough to do anything.With noscruples.Peoplewhowouldkillkidswithoutevenblinkinganeye.Terrorwouldbepartofdailylife.Therestofuswouldjustbe…”

“Hissockpuppets,”Ponyfinished.

“Sammy is there,”Nelliedeclared.“Iknow it.Piercewouldn’tget ridofhim.He’duse him. Sammy is the one who laid the groundwork. Now he has to finish what hestarted.”

Nelliewhirledaround.“I’vegottopack…findsurveillanceequipment…”

“Nellie?Onemorething.”Ponystoodup.“InthecourseoftrickingAprilMay,Imadeadiscovery.WALDOhashackedintotheCCTVsysteminLondon.Youknow,theclosed-circuitTVsystemthatScotlandYarduses?AndAmyandDanareontheirwaythere.”

“London?AreyousayingthatPiercecouldtrackthemthroughtheCCTV?”

“It’stough,butpossiblydoable,withtherightprogram.Butbasically?Yeah.”

Shelookeddownatthenewsmartphonesonthetable,thinkinghard.“Wehavetogetthesetothem,”shedeclared.“ButIcan’tshipthem.Idon’ttrustanythinganymore.”

“Youcouldhopaflight,getthemtothekidspersonally,”Ponysaidwithashrug.

ShelookedupatPony.“Oryoucould.”

“Me?”

“You. I can’t leave now, Pony.And you could check out theRosenbloombrothers’phones,too.Youhavetomakesurethewholesystemissecure.”

“Ican’tjustpickupandgo,”Ponysaid.“Ihaveacat.”

“Youcanbringthecathere.Ihaveacat-sitter.Thebestintheworld—mymom.Shelovescats.”

“Ican’tfly.I’mallergictopeanuts.”

“I made you peanut butter cookies on Monday because you said they were yourfavorite.”

“Idon’thaveasuitcase.”

“I’llloanyouone.Pony,Ineedyou,”Nelliesaid.“Theworldneedsyou.”

“Me?No.Youdon’tunderstand,Nellie.”Pony’ssoftbrowneyeswerefullofanewexpression—fear.“I’veneverbeenanywhere.Imean,asidefromvirtually.”

Nellie snappedher fingers. “Waita second—I finallygot through to JonahWizard.Youcanflywithhimonhisprivateplane.”

“J-JonahWizard?”Ponystammered.“Thestar?”

“He’salsoaCahill.AmyandDan’scousin.”NelliefinallynoticedthelookofabsoluteterroronPony’sfaceatthethoughtofmeetingaworld-famouship-hopartist.Shesmiled.Jonah had all the trappings of a star— the private plane, the bling, the ’tude— butunderneathitall,hewasaniceguy.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured Pony. “He’s nice. He’s due into Logan in”—Nelliechecked herwatch— “two hours. Then you can both fly to London.You can do this,Pony.”

“Iguess…”

Sheputahandonhissleeve.“Here’sthething.Ifyou’veneverbeenanywhere,isn’tittimetostart?”

Hegulped.“Ifyousayso.”

Twentyminuteslater,Ponyarrivedatherhousewithapaperbagfullofclothesandhiscatinacarrier.Nelliegavehimabackpack.Shehadalreadypackedhimasandwich,cookies,andanapple.Ponyfeltlikeakindergartner,buthewasgratefulthatNelliehadagreedtowalkhimthroughtheterror.

And thenhe’dhave tobealonewith the fantasticJonahWizard.Forhours.Hewassurehe’dsaysomethingidiotic.

Nellieduckedintothesecurityroomtosetthecode.Ponystoodoutside,shiftingfromonefoottoanother.Didprivateplaneshavesecuritylines?Wouldhehavetotakeoffhisshoes?Hecouldn’trememberifhehadaholeinhissock.Hefeltlikeatotalloser.Thiswasexactlywhyhedidn’tparticipateinreallife!Itwastooreal!

Hereachedoverandliftedthemailboxflap.Therewassomejunkmail,buttherewasalsoasmallmanilaenvelopeaddressedtoAmyCahill.Hestuffeditintohisbag.Hewasprobably going to botch everything.Whenever he participated in real life, things wentwrong.ButtheleasthecoulddowasbringAmyCahillhermail.

London,England

ThetroublewiththeUnitedStatesofAmericawas,ithadneverhadadictator.Allthosepeskysenators,thecourts,thejudges,thepeople—bythem,forthem…Itjustmuckeduptheworks.

Pierceturned,irritated,asDebiAnncameintotheroom.Shestilllookedtiredfromjetlag.Shedidn’thavehisstamina.Earlyon,hehadmadethedecisionnot togiveher theserumadaptations.Afterall,eachserumwascalibratedaccordingtothedesiredresult.He,ofcourse,gotthemostpowerfuldose.AsforDebiAnn,Americaneededamemberofhisfamily to identifywith: someonenon-fabulous,unlikehimself andhiskids.DebiAnn’sveryordinarinesswasgoingtohelpsweephimintotheWhiteHouse.

Still…

Heglancedathimselfinthemirror,thenather.Itwasundeniablethathewaslookingyounger,andshewaslookingolder.

Shepeeredintothemirrorbehindhim,adjustingthesweepofherblondhairsothatithitherchinat therightangle.“I’mgoingtodosomeshoppingthismorning,dear,”shesaid.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sometimes I think theBritishappreciate teddybearsmore thanwedo, Iamsad tosay….”

Piercetriedtostiflehisannoyance,buthecouldn’thelphimself.“Ifallgoesthewayitshould,DebiAnn—anditwill—youreallyhavetofindanothercause.Imean,really.Teddybears?Can’tyoufindaninterestthat’smore…firstladyish?”

Debi Ann stiffened. “They aren’t teddy bears, they are icons. Symbols of theinnocenceofchildhood.Quality toys forqualitykids,” shesaid, repeating thesloganofher Save the Teddies group. “It’s about conserving our cultural toy heritage. And ourchildren’shealth,dear.Don’tgetmestartedonpolyfill.”

No,hedidnotwanttogetherstartedonpolyfill.

DebiAnnkeptontalking,butPiercelostthethreadofherconversation.Whathedidnot foreseeafterheboostedhisLucianquotientwashowboringhe’dsuddenly findhiswife.Toolatetochangenow,though.

Piercelookedathimselfinthemirroragain.Actually…

Oncehewas inoffice…alittlesympathyforagrievingwidowerwenta longway,didn’tit?

Assoonastheylandedandweretaxiingtotheterminal,Jake’sphonerang.AnunfamiliarnumbercameupincallerID.

Amyanswereditnervously.Tohergreatrelief,itwasNellie.

“Amy,isthatyou?WhyareyouonJake’sphone?”

“HetookIan’sphonebymistake.Nellie,I’mafraidthey’rebeingtracked!”Amysaidfrantically.

“AreyouinLondon?”

“Wejustlanded.”

“Listen, I don’t havemuch time. I sentPonywith Jonah— they’llmeet you at theGreenswardHotel,King’sCross, at threeP.M.They’ll bedeliveringnew securephones.I’mdrivingtoDelaware.”

“Delaware?What’sthere?”

“Longstory.Sammyismissing,andI’mgoingtofindhim.Kiddo,I’mafraidthisplanisevenbigger thanwe thought.Youwere rightabouthissecurityguys. I thinkhegavethem a special Tomas boost. But I think they’re just a test case. He’s going to mass-produceit.”

Amyfeltsick.“Mass-produceit…theserum?Areyousure?”

“Hejustboughtamajorpharmaceuticallab.That’swhereI’mheaded.”

“Alone?Youcan’t…”

“Betterthisway.”

“No!”

“Ihavetogo.Stayintouch.”

Nelliehungup.AmyquicklyfilledinIanandDan.

“Mass-producetheserum…”Iansaid.“Thatcan’t…”

“…happen,”Danfinished.“Itwouldbe…”

“Unthinkable,”Amysaid.“Hecouldmakeanarmyofthoseguys.”

“Aninvincibleforce,”Iansaid.“Undefeatable.”

“AndnowtheycouldbeafterAtticusandJake.”AmytriedtocallIan’snumberagain,prayingthatJakewouldpickup.

Pleasepickup,Jake.Please…

Whensheheardhisvoice,shecollapsedbackagainsttheseat.“Jake,it’sAmy.”

“Amy,whatisit?”Jake’stonewasfrosty.

“Listen fast, because I think there’s a GPS tracker on your phone. You have Ian’sphoneandhehasyours.Whereareyounow?”

“Headingforourhotel.Wecouldn’tgetaflightoutuntiltomorrowmorning.”

“Didyoupayforthehotelwithacreditcard?”

“Yes…”

“Don’tgothere.Theycouldbewaiting.Theycouldbefollowingyounow.There’sahotel nearKing’sCross station called theGreensward. Staywith crowds,walk around,andmeetusthereinahalfhour.”

“Idon’tunderstand—”

“Ditchthephoneafterwehangup.Wecan’tbesure,Piercemightwanttotakeoutourfriends,too.AndthatmeansyouandAtticus.Justmakesureyou’renotfollowed.”AmyhungupbeforeJakecouldprotest.

Amy, Dan, and Ian hurried off the plane and into the terminal. They passed anewsstandonthewaytotheescalator.Theheadlinescreamedatthem.

ItwassplashedoverapictureofAmyandDan.

“Oh,no,”Amybreathed,stoppingshort.“Nothere,too!”

Anotherpapershouted:

THEYNEEDANANNY.

And,theworstone:apictureofIan,lookinghandsomeinablazerandtie.

JUSTANOTHERHOTTIE,ORISITTRUELOVEATLASTFORAMY?

Amygroaned.

“Ihatethatphoto,”Iansaid.“Itwasmyschoolpicture.Thefitofthatblazerissimplyhorrendous.”

Awomaneyedher, thenwhispered toher companion,who stared. “Let’sgetoutofhere,”Amymuttered.“It’llbeeveneasierforPiercetofindusif thepaparazziareafterus!”

Ianlookedathiswatch.“Ihate tosuccumbtopublic transport,but theTubewillbefaster.Followme.”

Theydashedthroughtheterminal,upescalators,andintopeoplemoversuntiltheygottotheplatform.Amygazeddownit,hernervesscreaming.

Ifanythinghappenstothem,I’ll…

Idon’tknowwhatI’lldo…

Iantouchedherarm.“I’msorry.Imadethemostelementary,stupidmistakeaCahillcouldmake.Itrustedastranger.”

Amygazedathimwithoutseeinghim.WasthatwhatbeingaCahillwas?Beingafraidto trust a helpful stranger? Always paranoid, always watchful, never trusting? Alwayslookingforthebad,notthegood?

If that’s true, I don’t want to be a Cahill anymore, either, she thought suddenly,looking over at Dan. He was gazing down the tunnel and then at his watch, his foottappingnervously.

“No,Ian,”shesaid.“Itwasn’tyourfault.We’renotsuperheroes.We’rejustkids,Ian.Justkids.”

JakestareddownatIan’sphone.Itfeltlikeitwasburninghisfingers.Hewantedtodropitinthenearesttrashcan,butthatimpulsewouldn’thelpthem.

“WasthatAmy,Jake?Didshechangehermind?”Atticushoppedononefoot,thentheother.

“No…”Jakesaid.

Hedidn’twant to scarehisyoungerbrother.Theywerenowon abusy commercialstreetwith lots of shopswith plate-glasswindows. Likemirrors. They could help him.Jakestoppedatashopwindow.Behindhimhecouldseethesteadystreamofpedestrians.Just people strolling, or hurrying to an appointment. Tourists ambling, looking forsouvenirstotakebackhome.

“ItookIan’sphonebymistake,”Jakesaid.“Shewantedtoletmeknow.”

“Oh,”Atticussaidinasmallvoice.“Doesshewanttoseeus?”

“We’resupposedtomeetthemattheirhotel.”

“Woo-hoo!”Atticussaid.“Maybeshedidchangehermind!”

Jakewas now hyperaware of his surroundings. Every time he passed awindow, heusedittocheckbehindthem.Heneededtostopandseeifthatwouldflushoutanyone.

Ahead of them, several fashionable women walked, holding shopping bags andchatting.

Jake tugged on Atticus’s arm. “Look, it’s a bookshop up ahead.” It was the onlydiversion thatwould haltAtticus. “Let’s check it out.”He quickly swiveled toward theshop,brushingbythewomen.Ashedid,hedroppedthephoneintooneoftheirshoppingbags.

“Theyhaveoldbooks!”Atticusjoggedtowardtheentrance.

Aman in jeansandablack jacketwalkedpast them, thenpausedoutsideapubandcheckedhiswatch,asifhewerewaitingforsomeone.

“Canwegoin?Dowehavetime?”Atticusasked.

“Sure,”Jakesaid.

They pushed through the door andAtticus headed to the shelvesmarkedCLASSICALLITERATURE.Jakestoodbythewindow.Fromthisanglehecouldseethemanstillstandingin frontof thepub.Themanworeanearpiece, thewire sneaking insidehis jacket, andJakesawhismouthmoving.

Couldbejustaguy,talkingonthephone.

Butsomethingaboutthecoiledassuranceofhowhestood…

Jake scanned the sidewalk across the street.With a sinking feeling, he saw anothermanacross thestreet.Amanindarkclothes,waitingforabus.Except thebusjust left,andhedidn’tgeton.

JakedriftedtowardAtticus.“Att?We’vegottosplit.Outthebackdoor.Andthenwehavetorun.Someverylargemenarerightoutside,lookingforus.”

Atticus’seyeswerewide.“We’rebeingfollowed?”

Jake nodded. “We’ve got to lose these guys.We can’t lead them toAmy andDan.Comeon.”

AtticusandJakewalkedtowardtherearoftheshop,surprisingaclerkwithastackofbooks.

“Excuseme,gentlemen?Thisisaprivatearea—”

“Mybrotherissick.Doesthisdoorgooutside—”

Atticusmadeaconvincinggaggingsound.

Theclerktookastepback.“Thealley.Oh,my,yes,gorightahead.”

“Wheredoesitgo?”

“ItwillbringyoutoOxfordStreet—”

Jakepushedthedooropen,shieldingAtticus.Thealleywasempty.

Thealleyranpasttheshops,thenturnedright.JakeandAtticusjoggeddownit.Afterthe turn they could seeOxfordStreet ahead, the busiest street inLondon. Jake thoughtfast.Therewouldbeevenmorepeoplethere,andbuses.Lotsofbuses.

TheyhadalmostreachedtheendwhenJakeheardthesoundofrunningfootsteps.Heturnedandsawthemanfromoutsidethepub.He’dalreadycoveredhalf thedistanceofthealley.Hewasfast.

“Run,”Jakesaid.

TheyburstontoOxfordStreet.Jakesawabusjustpullingupacrossthestreet.

“Staywithme,buddy.”Hedartedintothetraffic,holdinguphishandtostopthecars.Hornsblared.

“Sorry!”Jakeshouted.“StupidAmericantourist!”

HeandAtticusweavedthroughthetraffic.“Holdthebus!”Jakeshouted.

Someoneyelled,“Areyoudaft,youtwo?”

They landed safely on the opposite sidewalk.Behind him, Jake could see twomentryingtoweavethroughtraffic.Onevaultedoveracar.

Overacar?

Jake didn’t have time to think. The bus was just taking off as he lifted his skinnybrother and placed him on the step, then jumped aboard, grabbing the rail and pullinghimselfup.

Atticus hungon to the rail, panting, but grinning in relief. Jake lookedbehind.Themanwas running along the sidewalk, trying to keep upwith the bus, but he ran into acrowdoftouristsandthebusturnedthecorner.Safe.

Notforlong.Becausenowtheywereatarget,too.

TextfromAprilMaytoJ.RutherfordPierce,routedtoSecurity1:

Ponywassurroundedbyscones,whippedcream,jam,andcakewhenAmy,Dan,andIancaughtup tohimin theGreenswardHotel restaurant.Jonahloungednearby,his famousfaceobscuredbyaslouchycapandtintedglasses.Hejumpedupwhenhesawthem.

“Myhomeys!”JonahhuggedAmyandbumpedDan’sandIan’sfists.HegesturedatPony.“Thisishissecondtea.Hedigsclottedcream.”

ThoughJonah’swordswere light,Amycouldseehowrelievedhewas tosee them.Ponyjumpedup,wipinghismouth,andtheyintroducedhimtoIan.

Theypulledupchairs,butAmyanxiouslykepthereyeonthelobbydoors.Jonahhadchosenwell.Theywereonabalconyoverlookingthelobby,withviewsinalldirections.Fromhere, they could go down the stairs to themain entrance, or take a side entrancedownashortcorridor.Thelobbywasthrongedwith tourists,but therestaurantwashalfempty.Theyhadprivacy,andyetafullview.Perfect.

“Let’sbustoutthenewtech,son,”JonahsaidtoPony.

Ponygrinnedwithprideandslidnewsmartphonesacrossthetable.“Thesearetotallyfortress-safe. Encryption, et cetera — your basic moats and barbed wire and electricfences.Aprogramwillconstantlyrunsecuritychecks.I’llputthesamethingonAtticus’sandJake’sphones.”

“This isJake’sphone,”Amysaid,pushing itover.“Theyshouldbeheresoon.”Shecrossedherfingersunderneaththetable.Sheknewitwasachildishgesture,butshewastooanxioustocare.

IanandDanquicklyfilledJonahandPonyinonwhattheyhaddiscoveredinIreland.

Amy felt too nervous to listen. She uncrossed her fingers and checked her watch.Wherewerethey?IfanythinghappenedtoJakeandAtticus…

Thensuddenly there theywere,hurrying through thedoors into the lobby.Amy feltsweet reliefpour throughher.Shewanted to jumpupandshout,but insteadshewaitedquietlyuntil Jake’sgazemovedaround the lobby, thenup to thebalcony.She liftedherhand.

Theyclimbed the stairsquicklyand joined themat the table. “Wereyou followed?”Amyasked.

“We lost them,” Jake said, sitting down.He tossed a newspaper on the table.Amywincedwhenshesaw theTRUELOVEATLASTheadlineaboutherandIan,butJakejustflippedthepaperovertopointtoanotherheadline.PRESIDENTPIERCE?AphotoofJ.RutherfordPierceshakinghandswithanuneasy-lookingprimeministerdominatedthepage.

“I read the article. Pierce is on his goodwill tour, and it’s going to end at a pressconferenceonhisislandinMaine.Intwoweeks.It’sexpectedthathe’sgoingtoannouncethathe’srunningforpresident.He’sthrowingthishugeclambakeforhissupporters.”

“Thatmightbetheperfectopportunitytosliphimtheantidote,”Amysaid.“He’llbemingling,shakinghands,eatinganddrinking….”

“Goodplan,”Dansaid.“Exceptthatwedon’thavetheantidote.Wehaven’tcrackedthecodeyet.”

“Ordiscoveredtheformula,”Jonahsaid.

“Orgatheredtheingredients,”Iansaid.

“Let’shopethere’snotthirty-nine,”Amysaid,andtheysmiledruefullyateachother.AmylookedintoJake’seyes.Hequicklyglancedaway.

“Twoweeks?Noproblem,”Atticussaid.“Let’sgetstarted.”

Ponylookedupfromhiscreampuff.“Yoududesareawesome,”hesaid.

Nelliehadbookedthemahotelroom,justincase.Ponylopeddownstairstothelobbytopickupthekey.Theyallpiledontoelevatorstothefourteenthfloorandsetupcamp.TheymovedthedesktothemiddleoftheroomandputOlivia’sbookonitwithapileofpaperandpencils.

AmywatchedasAtticuskickedoffhis sneakersandsharpenedapencil. Jakeporedoverthebook.Hehadn’tlookedatheronce.HewouldneverforgiveherforkickinghimoutofthehouseinIreland.

Inherheart,shevowedthatnothingwouldhappentothem.Shewoulddiefirst.

TextMessagefromSecurity1toSecurity3:

“‘Now takewhat theeownsoutright, counteightandon the sixthdopause. /Take thatsixth, match to first that Romans brought’ …What does she mean, ‘what thee ownsoutright’?”Danasked.

“Iownaplane,”Jonahsaid.“Threecribs.Butnotoutright.Onehasamortgage.”

Jake smiledwryly at Jonah andgavehima fist bump. “FromwhatAmy’s toldme,onceOliviaCahilllostthefamilyestateinafire,theyhadtomaketheirownway.Soifshe’stalkingtoherdaughter,theymighthavehadnothingatall.”

“Weownwhoweare,”Dansaid.“Imean,basically,whenyouhavenothing,atleastyouhavethat.”Hethumpedhischest.“Me,Dan.You,Atticus.”

Atticuslaughed,butJakelookedatDanforalongmoment.AmylookedatJake.Hisgazeslidfromherbrothertoher.

“Hername,”theysaidtogether.

“‘Thatwhichyouownoutright’ishername,”Amyexplainedtotheothers.

“Madeleine.Nineletters,”Jakesaid.

Amyshookherhead.“Can’tbe,then.Oliviasays‘eight.’”

Dan padded over to them in his socks. “‘Her Joy, her Song,’ ” he said. “Isn’t amadrigalasong?”

“Amedievalsongwithoutinstruments,”Jakesaid.“Forfourtosixvoices…”

“Oliviahad five children,”Amy said. “ShewantedMadeleine to reunite the family.Madrigalcouldhavebeenapetnameforher!”

“Eightletters,”Jakesaid.

Atticus’s pencil was moving quickly. “It’s a simple alphabet code!” he burst out.“‘MatchtofirstthatRomansbrought’…theRomansbroughtusthealphabet!”

“Stoponthesixth,”Jakesaid.

“M-A-D-R-I-G,”Amycounted.“StartwithaG.Matchittofirst—means—”

Atticuswasalreadyworking,hispencilflying.“SubstituteGforAasfirst letter,”hemuttered.“ThatmeansGisreallyA,andthenextletter,H,isreallyB,andsoon…easypeasy.”

Heheldupthepaper.“Thisisthenewalphabet.NowIcanreallygettowork.”

Jakewasbusydecoding.“Wait…there’sanull,”hetoldAtticus.

“Anull?”Danasked.

“Acipherterm.It’saletteroranumber,usually,butitmeansnothing.It’sjustthrowninthemixtoconfuse.Thisoneisjustaconsecutiveletter.Easytostrikeout.”Jakebentoverhispageagain.

“Nocluewhat hemeans,” Pony said, stretching out on the bed, “but he’smyhero,man.”

“Therestof this is inItalian.Jake—you’rebetterat translating.I’mallaboutdeadlanguages,”Atticussaid.

“That’sbecauseyou’reazombiestudentofdoom,”Dantoldhim.

Atticusstiff-walkedacrosstheroomathimandtheybegantozombie-wrestle,buttheystoppedanddrewcloserwhenJakebegantoreadaloud,translatingashewent.

“‘After my mother’s death, such profound grief we felt that my father decided tojourneytothelandofhisyouthfulstudy.AttheageoffourteenItraveledfirsttoMilan,

whereImetthecompanionofhisyouth,nowthegreatandfamousteacher.Hetookmeonsecretlyashisapprentice,thoughIwasagirl,afterhiseyefelluponsomedrawingsandsketchesofmine.Westudiedinsecret,andperhapsitwasthatconspiracyoflearningthatledustothedeepestfriendshipofmylife.’”Jakelookedup.“Shecallshimmaestrodivita, just like in the poem. It’s Leonardo, of course. She continues that he taught herbotany,anatomy,drawing,painting….And then,whenshewasseventeen, ‘Mydestinyappearedonedayatthedoorwayofthestudio.MyGideon.’”

Jakepaused,translatingashespoke.“Theymarrywhenshe’snineteen.There’ssomekindofdowry….”

“Thedowry!”Iancrowed.“Iknewit!Whatwasit?”

“‘Bequeathed to me by my teacher, who knew Gideon would use it well. UrbesPerditae Codex,’ ” Atticus translated over Jake’s shoulder. “The Lost Cities Codex.‘Copiedandwrittenherein.’”

Jake dragged a hand through his hair. “This is unbelievable. A lost Leonardomanuscript,transcribedbyyourancestor!”

“Butwhatisit?”Amyasked.“Andwhatdoesithavetodowiththeantidote?”

“Giveusaminute,”Jakesaid.Hespreadoutpaperson thedesk, thenconsulted thebook. Atticus held up a mirror, and together, speaking in low voices, they translatedOlivia’spageswhileAmypaced,Danstoodonhishead,Jonahstoodatthewindow,Iantriedtohelp,andPony’sheaddroopedandheletoutaloudsnore.

Finally,Jakeputdownhispenandranhishandthroughhishairagain.

Atticussatback.“Okay.Mymindisofficiallyblown.”

“Apparently…”Jakestoppedandtookabreath.“Thisissohardtograsp…butthisdocument given toOlivia is about the great lost civilizations of theworld— seven ofthem.Attheveryend,theykepttheirgreatestwisdom—theircures,theirpotions,theirmedicines—andwrotethemdown.Theywerepassedtothelastsurvivors,andoveryearsandyearstheywerecompiledintoonedocument—whichpassedfromhandtohandtothegreatestscholaroftheage.UntiltheyfinallygottoLeonardodaVinci.”

“Whogaveittoyourancestor,”Atticustoldthem.“OliviaBehanCahill.”

“Sothiscodex—Oliviacopiedalltheinformationinherbook?”Amyasked.

“Tohideit,”Jakesaid.“I’mguessingthateachcaretakercopiedovertheinformationsothatitwouldbeeasiertokeepandpassalong.”

Amyhadmemorizedthepoembynow.Shespokesoftly.“‘…andtakeupbattlenotwitharmsbutwisdomgainedfromancientland/keptcloseandpassedfromhandtohand…’”

Dancontinued.“‘…tomiomaestrodivita,theeoftimelesswoman,universalman./Thenhetomebequeathedit,andwithinstructionbid/andI,throughhisownmethods,hid.’”

“‘Through his ownmethods’— thatmeans themirrorwriting. Leonardo used that,too,”Atticussaid.“Butthere’saproblem.”

“There’salwaysaproblem,bro,”Jonahsaid.“WelcometoCahillLand.”

Jaketappedthetable.“FromwhatI’veread,thecodexisjustwhatitsays.Undereachcivilizationthereareshorttextsthatgiveadvice,listmedicines,evenpoisons—allsortsof things. It tells you how to cure snakebite, kill an enemy, even induce a coma. Butthere’snothingherethatappearstobeaddedbyOlivia.So…”

“There’snoformulaforanantidote,”Amyfinished.

“Atleastanobviousformula.Therearealsonumberedlistsofingredientsundereachcivilization,”Jakeexplained.“Forexample,Carthagehasfifteen,AngkorWathastwenty-two,Tikalhastwelve.But—noformula.”

“Butwhywoulditbeinthecodexanyway?”Ianasked.“Gideonused thesecrets inthebook tomake theserum,andOliviaused themfor theantidote. It’sgot tobe inhersectionofthebook.”

“ButI’vereaditcovertocover!”Amyexclaimed.“Morethanonce.”

“Wait a second,”Dan said briskly. “We’ve figured outwhat all of the poemmeansexceptoneline.Whatabout‘withnoedgesglimpsed,darksketchedthekeyimparted’?”

“You’reright,Dan,”Amyagreedexcitedly.Sheturnedthepagesofthebook.“Darksketched … the black pages maybe?” She looked at them, then at the page with theMadrigalM.

“Waitaminute,”shesaid.“OliviasaidsheusedLeonardo’sownmethods,right?Doesanyonehaveamagnifyingglass?”

Atticus dug in his pack and came up with one. Amy studied the page with theMadrigalM through themagnifying glass. Itwas a dark, inky page,with theM in thecenter,andtwiningleaves,herbs,andflowersaroundit.

“IreaduponLeonardoonJake’sphoneontheplane,”shesaid.“HeworkedontheMonaLisaforalmosttwentyyears.Arthistoriansthinkit’sbecauseheusedatinybrushandamagnifyinglens.Thetechniqueiscalledsfumato—‘Leonardo’ssmoke.’Therearelayersand layersand layers to thepainting.Hedidn’twantyou to seewhereonecolorchangedtoanother—theedges.”

Amy’sfacewasclosetothebooknow.“Iseeit!”shecried.“Oliviahashiddenlettersinthecross-hatching.There’satextthatwindsaroundtheM.It’sconcealedintheleaves.Youcan’tseeitwiththenakedeye!IseethewordCarthage—thelostcity.‘Tinctureonedram.’Andthenumbereight.Didn’tyousaytheingredientswerenumbered,Jake?”

“Hangon.”Jaketurnedthepagesofthebook.“NumbereightintheCarthagesectionis…silphium.Whateverthatis.”

“Keepgoing,Amy,”Dansaid.“Whatnext?”

Amypickedupthemagnifyingglassagain.Workingcarefullybutquickly,shefoundallsevencivilizations,numbersofingredients,andamounts.Jakewrotethemdown.

“WhatcountryisCarthagein?”Danasked.

“Present-dayTunisia,”Atticusanswered.

“AngkorisCambodia,”Iansaid.“AndTikal?”

“One of the great civilizations of world history,” Atticus said. “Dates back to thefourthcenturyB.C.YoucantourtheruinsinGuatemala.”

“There it is,” Dan said. “Another worldwide quest. At least there’s only sevencivilizations,notthirty-nine.ButwhereisTroy?Ididn’tknowitwasreal.Imean,itwasrealinthemovie,but…”

“Itwasarealplace,”Jakeanswered.“TheruinsareinTurkey.”

“Maybeweshouldstartthere,”Amysaid.“Turkeyisn’ttoolongaflightfromhere.”

“Sixwhiskersfromaleopard?”Danasked.“I’mgladthisstuffissoeasy.Whatarewesupposedtodo,runafteritwithapairoftweezers?”

Jakefrownedoverhislaptop.“Wait.I’vegotsomebadnews.Silphiumisaplantusedinclassicalantiquity.Itisextinct.SoistheAnatolianleopard.”

“Oh,man,”Jonahsaidfromthefloor,wherehewasreclining,apillowunderhishead.“Thatismessedup.”

“Howcanwemakeapotionfromthingsthatdon’texistanymore?”Ianasked.

Themoodintheroominstantlyflattened.Itfeltasthoughthechasewasoverbeforeithadbegun.

“Hey,bros,” Jonah said, leaping tohis feet in the smoothmove that earnedhim thetitleofmostviewedmusicvideoofalltime.“Justbecauseit’smessedupdoesn’tmeanwecan’tfixtheprob.Wefoundthirty-nineclues,homeys.Wecanlocatesomewhiskers.”

“Jonah’sright.Wecan’ttakenoforananswer,”Amydeclared.“IsaywegotoTurkeyandseewhatwecanfind.Andwe’llfigureoutsilphium,too,whenthetimecomes.Wedon’thaveachoice.Wehavetotry.”

“YOLO,” Jonah agreed. The rest of them looked puzzled. “Explain, dawg,” Jonahsaid,pointingatPony.

“YouOnlyLiveOnce,”Ponytranslated.

“Precisely,”Iansaid.“Ifwegoandexplore,we’llfindaway.”

“Andthebestthingwecandorightnow,”Jakesaid,“isgetoutofLondon.”

“Planefueledupandreadytogo,bro,”Jonahsaid.“Nextstop,Istanbul.”

TextfromSecurity1toSecurity3:

They all piled into the elevators for the trip to the lobby. The first one was full, andsomehowintheconfusionAmyfoundherselfinanelevatoralonewithJake.

Theystoodinuncomfortablesilence.Itwasnowornever.Amygatheredhercourage.Shecouldn’tgoonlikethis,withJakeavoidinghereyes.

Shesteppedforwardandpunchedeveryflooronthewaydown.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Jakedemanded.

“Iwanttotalktoyoualone,andIhaveafeelingthisismyonlychance.”Amypaused.Theelevatordoorsopenedonanemptyhallway,thenclosed.

“I’msorry,”shesaid.“I’msorryyou’reinvolvedinallthis.”

“Right,”Jakesaid,hiseyesonthefloorindicator.“Iremember.We’renotfamily.”

“Well,yes.Whyshouldyousacrificeeverythingforus?”

“Ifyoudon’tknowtheanswertothat,forgetit.”

Thedoorsopenedonatouristcouple.“Sorry!”Amytrilled,andpunchedattheDOORCLOSEbutton.

“Youdon’tunderstand,”Amystarted.

Jakebrokeinfuriously.“IthinkIdo.Lastfallwewereunderapressuresituation,wegottooclose,nowwe’rebacktoreality.Youfeeldifferentlynow.”

“I just think,”Amysaidcarefully,“that ifwecould just stay friends…itwouldbegreat.Becausewehavealotofworktodo,andifyoucan’tevenlookmeintheeye,itcouldcompromiseourmission.”

Thedoorsopenedtoanemptyhallway,thenclosed.

“Oh,sonowI’masecurityrisk,”Jakesaidbitterly.

“That’snotwhatImeant!Idon’twantAtticustobeindanger.Youstillhaveachancetoleave.IfyougobacktoRome—”

“Theysawus,Amy!ForallIknowtheyhaveawholedossierbynow.We’reinthis,whetheryoulikeitornot.MyonlyhopeforprotectingmybrotheristostopPierce.Justlikeit’syouronlywaytoprotectDan.”

Thedoorsopenedonabusinessman.Hestartedforward,sawtheirstormyfaces,andsaid,“I’llwaitforthenextone.”

“Anyway, you’re right,” Jake said as the door closed again. “The mission is mostimportant. I get it now. If you’ve got some ancient docs to decode, I’myourman.Butwhenitcomestoactuallyneedingsomeone…well,you’drathertakeapass.”

“HowIfeelisn’timportantrightnow.Feelingsdon’thelp.Asamatteroffact,theydotheopposite.”Herunspokenwords— theyhurt—seemed tohithimlikeapunch.Shesawaflareofpaininhiseyes.

“Jake—”

“Igetit,Amy!”

Doorsopened.Fourthfloor.

“Ifwecouldjustbefriends…”

Hejammedhishandsinthepocketsofhisjeans.“Yeah,feelingsjustgetintheway,don’t they,” he said. “So let’s just kick them aside. Go ahead, find someone less …demanding.LikeMr.Smooth.”

HemeantIan,ofcourse.Shewasabouttoprotest,butthedoorsopenedagain.Itgavehertimetothink.Ian?Jakewasjealous.

Maybethiswayisbest,shethought.Thisway,he’llstayaway.

Thedoorsopenedonthesecondfloor.

TwoofPierce’sthugsstoodinthehallway.

Foramomenttimehungsuspendedastheyfacedeachother,equallysurprised.

Thentheyexplodedintomovement.AmydovefortheDOORCLOSEbutton.Thegoonsleapedforward.

Thedoorbegantocloseasoneofthempounced.Hewedgedhalfin,halfout.Hisface

wasmashedagainstthedoorasAmykepthittingthebutton.

Jakesprangoffthebackwalloftheelevator,slamminghisfootsquarelyintheman’smidsection.A split second laterAmy followedwith a hard chop to hiswindpipe. Jakeshoved,andhefellbackontothecarpetedhallway.Thedoorsslidshut,andtheelevatordropped.

“They’lltakethestairs,”Jakesaid.

AmywasfranticallytextingDan.

When the doors opened, she and Jake blasted through them onto the mezzanine.Fartherdownthehall,theycouldseethedoorwaytotheemergencystairs.Itopened,andthetwomenburstout.

AmyandJakeracedacrossthewidefloorofthemezzanine.Atourgrouphadstoppedneartherestaurant,theirluggagepiledaroundthem.Amyleapedoverthepile,andJakefollowed.SheriskedaglancedownatthelobbyandsawDancheckhisphone.Helookedupatthem,thenattheexit.Butheandtheothersdidn’tmove.

Therecouldbeonlyonereason.Theyweresurrounded.

Sheflewdownthewidestaircase,thenleapedoverthebanisterseveralfeetfromthebottom.

“They’reoutside,too,”Dansaid.

“Sideentrance,”Amysaid.

Thegroupweavedthroughthecrowdedlobbyandsprintedthroughthesideentrance.TheyjoggeddownEustonRoad.Behindthem,themenexitedthehoteldoorandtheysawthemwalkingquickly,keepingthemallinsight.Thereweresixofthem.

“Whatshouldwedo?”Danmuttered.

“Stay on Euston for now,” Amy said. “It’s crowded. They don’t want to make ascene.”

“I’vegotanidea,”Jakesaid.“We’reneartheBritishLibrary.Wemightbeabletolosethemthere.ThenwecandoublebacktotheTubestation.”

“Worthatry,”Ianagreed.

“Withyou,myman,”Jonahsaid.

Ponywaspuffinghard.“Ihopeithasbenches.”

Withachillingsenseofdread,Amyrecognizedthemanwhoalmostthrewheroffthebridge.Sherememberedthestrengthofhishands,likeironmanaclesonherwrists,beingupagainstawallofpowershecouldn’tfight.

Theplaza in frontof the librarywas fullof studentswithbackpacks. Itwaseasy toblendintothecrowd.

Theyhurriedpastatallsculptureandtowardthefrontdoors.Amysneakedalookoverhershoulder.Toherdismay,shesawthesixmenfanningoutacrosstheplaza.

Theymovedinsidethebuilding.Thereceptionhallwasfivestorieshighandcrowdedwithpeoplemillingintheexhibitionarea,orstandingneartheinformationdesk.Agrouphuddledaroundateacherlecturingaboutthearchitectureofthebuilding.

“Therearethreeexits,”Dansaid.“There’saguyateachofthem.”

“Threeofthemmovingthroughthecrowd,”Iansaid.

“Let’strythis,”Jakesaid.“I’llusemyfather’scredentialstogetusonaprivatetour.Thenwecanlookforanemployee’sexit.There’salwaysaseparateexit.”

“I’llgowithyou,”Iansaid.“MyfatherdonatedsomerareIndianmanuscriptstothelibrary.Imighthavesomepull,too.”

TheyallsteppeduptothedeskandJakeleanedovertotalktotheyoungmanbehindit.Amyshotalookoverhershoulder.Shelookedstraightintotheeyesofthemanwhothrewheroffthebridge.Hesmiled.

“Dan.”Hervoicewasbreathless.“Wehaveto…”

“Isawhim.Relax,”DanmurmuredtoherasheandAmytriedtodrawthemanawayfromtheothers.“Whatcanhedotous?We’reinapublicplace.”

“JustaskSammyMourad,”Amysaid.“Wecan’tletthemgettooclosetoAtticus.”

She had lost sight of the man. Her eyes scanned the crowd. Suddenly, she feltsomethingagainstherback.Ahandclosedaroundthebackofherneck.

“Hypodermicneedle,”themansaid.

Hereyeswidened.Danfroze.

“That’sright,littlebuddy.I’vegotaneedlerightatsissy’sspine.AndwhenIplungeit,she’sgoingtoloseherlegs.She’sgoingtoloseherspeech.She’sgonnafall,okay?And

rightbythedoorsI’vegotthreeEMTguys.Well,they’regonnalooklikeEMTsinasec.They’regonnatakesissyhereoutonastretcher.You’regonnacomealong,becauseyoucareabouther,right?”

“OrelseI’mgoingtoscreamrightnow,”Dansaid.

“Yeah?Well,thensissygetstwoinjections.Andthatwon’tbepretty.Gotit?”

Dansaidnothing.Hiseyeswerefulloffury.

“Isaid,do Ihaveyourcooperation?Good.And thenallyour littlepalswill follow,andwe’llallgo tosomenicesecludedspot.”Thehandonherneck tightened.“Wecanfinishwhatwestarted,sissy.”

JakeandAtticuswerestillatthedeskwithIan.Amysawablurofmovement.Alongovercoat flapping as a boywith a ponytailmoved away. Itwas just at the edge of hervision.Ahandreachingintoaninteriorpocket…

Themanholdingherwaswearinganearpiece.Nodoubthewaswaitingtohearthattheothermenwereinplace.Amyknewthatifshemoved,hewouldjabher.ShecouldseethatDanwasinthemiddleofdesperatestrategizing.Hisgazedartedaroundthelobby.

“Keep thinking, buddy. It’s not gonna get you anywhere, but it’s fun towatch yourlittlebrainonthemove.”Themanchortled.

Ponyputdowntwosmallitemsonthefloor.Amycouldn’ttellwhathewasdoing.Shecouldseefearonhisface,butdetermination,too.

Abeatburstoutfromthespeakers.DadaDAdadada,dadaDAdadadada,DAdaDA…

Ponyheldonearmout,thentheother.Thenhejerkedtotheside.Hewasperfectlyintimetothebeat.Thenhejerkedtotheotherside.

Hebobbedhishead.

Hetookonestepforward.

The infectious beat pounded. It was a worldwide hit, Jonah Wizard’s “Make MeHappyorElseI’llBeSad.”Peoplebegantoturn.

Hetookonestepback.

Hedidtherobot.

AmywidenedhereyesatDan.Sheknewthedance.Halfthepopulationoftheworldmusthaveknownthedance.Jonah’svideohadgoneviral.

A small space had cleared around Pony. And suddenly the crowdwas parting, andJonahWizardwas sliding towardPony across the polished floor onhis knees. Itwas atrademarkWizardmove.

Thepeoplestandingnearbywhocouldseeburst intoapplause.Girlssquealed.Boysshouted.JonahjumpedupandbegantodancenexttoPony.

“JONAHWIZARD!”someonescreamed.

Dansteppedforward.Heflungonearmout,thentheother.

Hetookanotherstepforward.

Hetookonestepback.

Hedidtherobot.

“Whatthe…”thethugbehindAmymuttered.

“Isthisbeingfilmed?”agirlasked.

AmysearchedthecrowdforJake.HehadstoppedandwaswatchingDanandPony,hisfacecreasedinafrown.

Oh,no.Hedoesn’t know thedance.He’snothipenough.He’s just…Jake.HecannameeveryMozartopera,buthedoesn’tknowhip-hop.

Jakethrustoutahip.Hewavedanarm.

Thecrowdmovedback.

Jakewasawesome.

Atticusjoinedhim.ThetwowereperfectlyinsyncasJonah’svoiceboomedout.

Sadinmyheart,ohitfeelslikeaBROOM

SweepsalltheflyrightoutofmyROOM…

“IT’SAFLASHMOB!”Amyyelled,andtheroomerupted.

The hall went wild. Everyone in the lobby stamped to the beat and sang with onevoice. They danced, laughing and singing, shouting the lyrics. The song had been amegahit, and everyone in the hall knew the video.Whether they loved the song or notdidn’tmatter—ithadbeenaglobalearworm.Theyknewthelyrics,andtheyknewthedance.

“Wewait,”themanbehindhersaid,andsheknewhewastalkingintohisheadpiece.

Amydaredtowaveanarm.Ayoungmannexttohersmiledandtookherhandandyankedheraway.Sheflewforward,straightintothesurgingmob.Shewasnowpartofthecrowd,mimickingthemovements,shoutingthewords.ShetriedtomaneuvertowardDanandtheothers.

’CauseallIwantishappy-ness

Don’tyougivemeyourdepress,

Makemyday,justacquiesce…

Itwastimetogo,whiletheplacewasstilljumping.Ponywaswild-eyed,lockedinadancewithayoungblondstudent.Amysignaledtohim,andhebenttopickuphisgear.Jonahwinkedather and followed. JakeandAtticus and Ianbegan todance toward thedoors,Ianstiffbuttrying,andJakewithsurprisinggrace.

Ineverknewhecoulddance….

She sawover thebobbingheads that thegoonswere scanning thewaving,dancing,singing crowd, furious that she had escaped. She saw the others, now dressed in darkgreenEMTgear.Theyweretryingtomovethroughthesurging,dancingcrowd.Oneofthemengotsmackedbyawavinghand.

Stillmimickingthedance,theysnakedtheirwaytothefront.Asthecrowdcollapsedintocheers,theyran.

Ithadneverhappenedbefore.Never,ever,ever.Nobodyhadeverdoneitandmanyhadtried.

Impossible.AprilMaystaredathercomputerscreen.Shehadjustspentthelast twohoursrunningchecksandcounterchecksandrerunningthem,andshekeptcomingtothesame conclusion. She had to face the fact that just because she thought somethingwasimpossibledidn’tmeanitwas.

AprilMayhadbeenhacked.

Not only hacked, but beautifully hacked. Such an elegant, simple program. If shedidn’t feel like takingher computer and smashing it overSupremeCoder’s head, she’dbuyhimaRedBullandhirehim.Orher.

Thebeautyofit—thehackerhadsetupacompletelyfalsesystem.ATrojanhorse,ifyouwill—andwasn’t that anaptanalogy,considering theCahills’nextdestination—thathadmimickedtherealsystemenoughsothatshehadspentallhertimemonitoringit.Andthen,ifsheusedfakeinformation,thehackertrailedherbacktohersystem.Whichhadfirewallsandalertsandalarms,butheorshehadmanagedtobreakinlongenoughtomaybediscoversomeinformationthatAprilMaywasnotaltogetherhappyabout.

Like, for instance, thatWALDO had access to the CCTV feeds inmajor Europeancapitals.

Ithadbeenastrokeofluckthatshe’dbeenabletopassontheinformationthatAmyandDanwere inKing’sCrossstation.She’dbeenable tohandoff the information toJ.Rutherford Pierce,which kept her demanding client happy for a nanosecond before hestartedbreathingdownherneckagain.

Here-mailalertchimed.Aprilclickedonit.Anothere-mailfromPierce,thisoneonlythreesentences:

Whatwasitwiththisguyandthreats?Helivedforthem.Aprilfiredbackareply.

Aprilfeltangerandresentmentswampher,twoemotionsshedidnotallowinlifeorwork. She sat quietly, letting them build and crash and then recede. She pictured abreakingwave,thenatranquilsea.J.RutherfordPiercehadawayoftap-dancingonherlastnerve.

TheCahill kids had been discovered in thewest of Ireland. She’d researched newsaccounts.No paparazzi had appeared to photograph theCahill crazies doing somethingrisky.Nopicturesatall,ormentions.Wasn’tthatwhyPiercewantedtolocatethem?Sohecoulddeliveroneofhis“scoops”?

But while she’d searched she’d come across a random shooting off the Cliffs ofMoher.Ayoungwomanhadbeenoutboatingwhensuddenly,abullethadslammedintothedashboardofhervessel.Theboathadsunkandshe’dbeenrescuedbyaJetSki.Somefishermenhadcomplainedabouttwoboatsracingthroughaharbor….

April leaned forward and clicked through on her CCTV feeds. Multiple windowsappeared,andshewasable tofolloweachonecarefully.Whenshefoundwhatshewaslookingfor,shefrozeit.Shezoomedin.

TherewerenopaparazziattheBritishLibrary.Therewasoneheavilymuscledman,andtherewasaglintofsilverinhiscuppedhand.HewasholdingAmyCahill’sneckwithonehand,shieldingthemovefromthecrowd.Andwhatwasthatglintofsilver…

Ahypodermic.

She zoomed in on the faces ofAmy andDanCahill. Fear.Desperation.Anger.Alltheretoseeinthetautmusclesoftheirfaces,theirwidenedeyes.

Sheletthetaperoll.Andlook,howDanandAmykeepeyecontactthroughout.Look,howDanwas on the balls of his feet, ready to attack thismuscleman.These twowerecloserthanclose.Danwasreadytodieforher.

The strains of JonahWizard’s hit began. April’s mouth twitched. She watched theflashmobform.Shewatchedthejoyandmovement,buthereyesstayedonDanandAmyand…oh, there theywere, their friends. She isolated and clicked until they, too,wereloadedintohersoftware.

Thee-maildingedagain.

“Notinmyjobdescription,”Aprilsaidaloud.Shehesitated,fingersoverthekeys.Shewasbeginningtorealizethatthisjobwasn’twhatitappeared.Herclientwaslyingtoher.Why?Whatdidhewant?

WashetryingtokillAmyandDanCahill?

A sick feelinggrew insideher.April sat quietly, replaying theCCTV tapeover andover.Thesilverhypodermic.Themuscledthugsmovingthroughthecrowd.

Aprilfeltverycold.Shediscoveredthatshewastrembling.

“Notinmyjobdescription,”shewhispered.

WasPierceinvolvedinthis?Didheknow?

Shehadtofindout.Whichmeantshemighthavetobreakprecedentanddosomethingshe’dneverdonebefore:fieldwork.

SomewhereovertheMediterraneanSea

Withasackofcheeseburgersandsomesoftdrinks inhand, theyhadpiledontoJonah’splane.Theyhadeaten,napped,andnowtheywereanhourfromIstanbulandreadytohearaboutTroy.

“Idon’tgetit,”Dansaid,peekingatAtticus’snotes.“What’slegend,andwhat’sfact?ThisguyParisfallsinlovewithHelenandstealsherawayfromherhusbandandtakeshertoTroy.Soeverybodygetsreallymadandthere’sawar.Like,fortenyears.Agamemnonis Helen’s brother-in-law so he gets up into Paris’s grille and camps out in this majorsiege.There’sabunchofbattles—heroeslikeAchillesandAjaxbitethebigone.EvenParisdies,andhestartedthewholething.FinallytheGreeksgetimpatientandpretendtogiveup.Theygive theTrojans a giganticwoodenhorse as a good-byepresent, like—whoa, dudes, here ya go, we’re going home. Except they hide inside it and while theTrojans are partying they jump out and start a battle and this time, they win the war.Exceptbasicallyeverybodycoolisdead,sowhatdotheygetanyway?”

“That’s the shortest summary of Homer’s Iliad I’ve ever heard,” Atticus saidadmiringly.

“Andagreatsummaryofmostwars,”Jakeremarked.“Whatdotheygetanyway?”

“Vcool,”Jonahputin,nodding.Heloungedbackintheleatherarmchair,hiseyeshalfclosed. He had flown from California to Boston to London and now was almost toIstanbul.Hewasusedtotouring,buttheCahillschedulewasworse.

“Vcool,indeed,”Ponysaid.He’dpracticallyrepeatedeveryutteranceofJonah’ssincetheyboarded.

“Thensomeguyinthe1870sdecidesthatTroywasn’tlegend,itwasreal,andhestartsdigging,”Danwenton.

“FrankCalvert,”Atticussaid.“ButHeinrichSchliemannusuallygetsthecredit,eventhoughhehadno realarchaeological trainingandkindofmessed thingsup.ButhedidfindthatTroyactuallyexisted.Sonowweknowthatitdid.Therearesevenlevels,Ithink—”

“Actually,nine,”Jakesaid.“Eachofthemcomesfromadifferenthistoricalperiod.Soforourpurposes,themostrecentwouldbetheoneatthetop—levelnine.Troywaspartof theRomanEmpire then.Ithadanaqueductandwatersystem,publicbaths,acentralmarket,theater—quiteanimpressivecivilization.”

“Sohowcoulditjust…die?”Ianasked.“Howcouldallofthecitiesdie?Whatdidthepeopledowrong?”

“There’s lotsof reasons,” Jake said. “Sometimes it’s anaturaldisaster that they justdon’t recover from.Oradictatorwhobankrupts the treasuryandstarveshispeople.Orstarts a series of wars that never end until the civilization is destroyed. It can be acombination of factors, too.Any civilization is vulnerable, nomatter howmighty.”HenoddedatAtticus.“AtticusandIhavebeenbroughtupwithdeadcivilizations.We’reusedtotakingthelongview.”

“Butit’snotlikeitcouldhappennow,”Amysaid.“Imean,herewearetravelingfromonegreatcitytoanother.Citiesfulloftaxisandtheatersandrestaurantsandmuseumsandpeople…itcouldn’talljustgoaway.Americacouldn’tjustgoaway.”

“Read the papers lately?” Jake asked. “Nuclear weapons, climate change, unstablegovernments…”

“One person,” Amy said. “One dictator with enough power making the wrongdecisions…”

“Creatinganarmythatisindestructible,”Ianputin.

“Couldchangetheworld,”Atticussaid.

Theyfellsilent.Therewasonenameineachoftheirminds.

Pierce.

Whentheplanelandedandtheyweretaxiingtotheterminal,Danspokeup.

“Attheriskofbeingatotalbuzzkill,”hesaid,“Ihavetoask.Dowehaveaplan?”

“I’vebeen researching leopards,”Jakesaid.“They’re tremendousathletes.Theycanrunuptothirty-sixmilesperhourandleaptwentyfeetforwardinasinglebound.Theycanjumptenfeetup.Theystashfoodhighintrees.Theycandragahundredpoundsormore.Theyhunt at night andhavekeenvision andhearing.They stalk their prey, thenswatitsillyandkillitwithabitetothethroat.”

“Wow,thanks,Jake,”Dansaid.“Somethingtolookforwardto.”

Jakegrinned.“Withanyluckyouwon’tgetthatclose,Dan-o.Anatolianleopardshavebeenextinctforalmostfortyyears.TheyonceprowledtheforestsandhillsoftheAegeanand theMediterranean.Theywerereveredby theEtruscansandhuntedby theRomans.Huntedbyeveryone,actually.That’swhythey’reextinct.”

Amywas lookingatapictureofa leopardonherphone.“That’ssosad.They’resobeautiful.”

“The last official sighting — they think — was in 1974. But I read a couple ofaccountsonlinefrompeoplewhosworetheysawone.Awildlifeorganizationhassetupsomecameratrapsinthemountains—aconstantlyrunningcamera,hopingtocatchsightofsomething.”

Ponyreachedforhiscomputer.“What’sthenameofthegroup?”

“TheInternationalWildlifePreservationAssociation,”Jakesaid.“IWPA.”

“There’ssomethingelse,”Amysaid.“There’sasmallmuseuminsouthwesternTurkey—onthewayto themountains—thathasastuffedleopard.We’vesente-mails to theaddress but they haven’t responded. They’re only open on weekends. Sketchy, butdefinitelyworthcheckingout.Wejusthavetohopethatifthereisaleopard,itstillhasitswhiskers.”

“There’s a tonof folklore about leopardwhiskers,” Jake said. “They’re supposed tohavehealingproperties,orevenmagicalproperties.”

“Sowe find an extinct leopard, shoot himwith a paralyzing drug, and pluck somewhiskers,”Dansaid.“Noproblem.”

“Youonlyneedsix,”Jakesaid.

“Well,inthatcase,”Dansaid,“pieceofcake.”

Ponylookedup.“Igotin.Usuallythesekindofdo-goodorganizationsjustdon’thavethefirewallprotectiontheyshould.Because,let’sfaceit,whyshouldtheyspendthebuckstohiresomeonelikeme?Soit’sallcrufty—itlookscomplicated,butit’sstupid.Gritch,gritch,Iknow.”

“IshespeakingEnglish?”AtticusaskedDan.

“No, he’s speaking hacker,” Jonah answered, stretching and yawning. “The dude isawesome.Justlisten.”

Ponyflushedwithpleasure.“Ibetthisfroggerflakesoutonaregularbasis,”hesaid.“It’ssototallybarfedout.Anyway,here’smypoint.Ihackedintotheircameratrapfeed.Mostlyabunchof animalshoppingby, right?But theyalsohavean internal commentssectiononthefeed.Isnarfedupthefile,didaquickwordsearchprogram,andturnsouttherewas a recent sighting that somedudes think is a leopard and some think is just alynx, so someotherwildlife dudewent up personally to this spot and snapped a prettyclearpawprint,butthey’reall‘wecan’treleasethisinfoyet’andso…”Ponyturnedhislaptoparound.Aphotowasblownuponthescreen,aclearpawprintinthedirt.“There’syourleopard.”

Wilmington,Delaware

“Well, thatdependsonwhatyoumeanbyauthorized,”Nelliemutteredat the sign.Sheheldbinocularsuptoherface.“It’shardtokeepNellieGomezoutifshewantsin.”

Shejusthadn’tfiguredouthowyet.

She had driven all theway south on theNew JerseyTurnpike to the final exit, theDelawareMemorialBridge.She’dgottenlostthreetimestryingtofindthelab,andeachtimeshe’dendedupinPennsylvania.Delawarewasamightysmallstate.

Fromacrossthestreetinamini-martparkinglot,shehadaprettyclearviewintothelab’s huge parking lot. The long, low building climbed a slight rise behind it. Weaksunlightglancedoffthecarroofs.

Theparkinglotwasn’tverycrowded.Mostoftheemployeeshadbeenfired,accordingtoPony.She’dseenacaravanofblackSUVsenterjustanhourbefore.Menandwomenin

suitshadexitedthecarsandwalkedbrisklyintothebuilding.

Therewasaguardboothattheentranceandachain-linkfence.Surveillancecameraseveryfewfeet.Brightlightswouldilluminatetheparkinglotatnight.Shesawitall,andsheknewtherewasnowayshewasgoingoverthatfencewithoutgettingcaught.

She’dhavetofindanotherway.

Ayoungwomanpulledintothemini-martparkinglot.Shegotout,adjustingtheskirtof her dark gray suit.Her hairwas pulled back into a tight ponytail.Her pumps had amoderate heel. She strode into the market and came out a minute later, sipping at anorange juice.She lookedatherwatch three times in the time it took todrink the juice.Thenshetosseditinthetrashandwentbacktohercar.

Nellie recognized all the signs. The young woman was killing time before a jobinterview.Shewatchedasthejobseekergotbackinhercaranddroveafewhundredfeetdowntheroad.SheturnedintoTrilonLaboratories.Theguardleanedtowardher,hishandout.

Driver’slicense,Nelliethought.He’sgotalist.Checkingittwice…

Nellietappedherfingeronthesteeringwheel.WhathadPonysaid?Piercehadfiredeveryone.Sonowtheywerehiring.

Sheknewnothingaboutpharmaceuticalsorchemistry.

Butwhyletthatstopher?

Nellie pulledout her phone and sent a text to Ian.Hehad contacts everywhere andcouldsetupfakereferencesforher.

Within thenext thirtyminutes, shehadrunoffa totally fabricated résuméatacopyshop.ShewasnowNadineGormey,brilliantyoungchemistwithadegreefromMIT.

Withinanhour,she’ddyedherhairbacktoitsnaturalglossyblack,scrubbedoffhertemporarytattoo,andboughtaconservativenavysuit.Shehadalsopurchasedtheugliestpairofsensiblepumpsshe’deverhadthemisfortunetoplaceonherfeet.

Of course, the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about labs, chemistry, orpharmaceutical sciencemight turnout tobe aweebit of aproblem.But sheknew thatsomewhereinasecretlab,Sammywasbeingforcedtoproducenewexperimentsonthedeadliestserumknowntohumanity.

Inthatlong,lowgraybuilding,ahorrifyingfuturewasbeginningtotakeshape.Shewasgoingtoexposeit,ordietrying.

Istanbul,Turkey

HamiltonHoltwalkedquicklythroughtheterminalatAtaturkAirport.Hisflighthadbeendelayed,andhehadonlyafewminutestocatchacabtotheprivateplaneterminal.Theairportwascrowdedwithpeoplejostlingtoretrievetheirluggage,getfood,grabcoffee.Neartheexitdoors,menweremilling,offeringrides.Hamiltonscannedthem,lookingforthemosthonestface.

Ride,sir?Ride,sir?CleanesttaxiinTurkey!Safedriver!Ride,sir?Iamthecheapest!Theycrowdedaroundhim.

It was his face, Hamilton knew. His big, dumb, teenageAmerican face. It was hissandyhair andhisbiggrin.Everybody thoughthewasamark, abackpacking teenagerjust ready to be taken advantage of. Usually, theywere right. Hewas a Cahill, but hehadn’tinheritedmuchofthecannyinsightsofaLucian,orthecharmoftheJanus.HewasTomas, throughandthrough.Ifyouwantedtoclimbamountainorscaleacliff,hewasyourguy.Ifyouwantedhimtoopenadoorwithaheadbutt,hecouldhandleit.Butyouhadtoshowhimthedoor.

Oneofthemenpressedincloserandgrabbedhissleeve.“Needsomewheels,dawg?”

Hamiltonturned.BehindthesunglasseshesawhisfriendJonahWizard.“Dude!”

“Dawg!”

Theybumpedfists,thenhigh-fived.

“What are you doing here?” Hamilton asked. “Nellie told me to meet you at theprivateterminal.”

“Wegotinearly.I’vegotthecrewinavan,waitingforyouresteemedpresence.We’retakingoffforAntalyaonthecoast.Thenweheadforthemountainstotrackaleopard.”

Hamiltonwasunphased.“Leadon,dude.”

The rest of the drivers drifted away, knowing they’d lost a fare. Jonah steeredHamiltontowardthedoors.NeitherofthemnoticedthemuscularmaninsunglassesandablackT-shirtwhofollowedthemoutside.

Their driver, Adil, told them that the city of Antalya was part of what was called the“TurquoiseCoast,” andDan knewwhy as he glimpsed shimmering blue-green sea andgolden sand as they drove. Palm trees were fanned by a warm, light breeze, and theyrolleddownthewindowstosmellthesea.

AdilturnedontoawidedividedstreetinAntalya.Ononeside,Dancouldglimpsethecurving turquoise bay and the glorious backdrop of the shadowy stacked peaks of theTaurusMountains.Theywhizzedbypalm trees and tourist vans just like theirs as theyheadedtowardtheharbor.Intheeveninglightthebaywasflushedwithpink,andtheskywasstreakedwithpurple.Peoplewereoutstrolling,checkingoutthedifferentcafémenusorsimplysittingoutsidesippingcoffee.Dangerandleopardsseemedveryfaraway.

Why am I always arriving at places like this, and never really seeing them? Danwondered. For once he’d like to go to an awesome place without looking over hisshoulder.He’dliketotraveltheworldagain,thistimewithoutbeingchasedorshotat.

Ifthere’saworldleftoncePiercegetshishandsonit.

When they’d askedAdil for the best place to findmountain guideswhowere bothtrustworthyandcouldkeep theirmouths shut,hehaddirected them toa coffee shop inAntalya and told them to ask for Sadik. They checked into the hotel overlooking thebeach,whichwascrammedwithhappytourists.Thentheyheadedout.

Thesunhadsetbythetimetheynavigatedtheirwaytotheoldcity,calledtheKaleiçi,an area of twisting streets and alleys. They took severalwrong turns, despite using theGPSontheirphones.Finally,theylocatedthealley.

Therewasnosignoutside,butseveraltableswereoutonthesidewalk,wherepeoplesatsippingcoffeeandeatingpastries.Thegrouppushed into theshop.Smokecurled intheair,and thebuzzofconversationwasenergizing.Thecoffeehousewasmostly filled

withmen sitting at small tables, sipping black coffee out of delicate cups. Therewereseveral couches positioned facing each other, and glass-globed lamps in jewel-tonedcolors hung from the ceiling. Carpets hung on the wall, and mirrors reflected curlingsmoke.

They stopped for amoment as people turned to regard the newcomers, then turnedback,andthebuzzofconversationrevived.

Theysatatatableinthecorner.“DoyouthinkIcanorderadouble-shotdecafgrandeno-whipmochawithapumpofhazelnuthere?”Danasked.

“Tryit,”Jakesuggested.“I’dliketoseehowfaryou’dgetkickedoutthedoor.”

Theyordered coffee,which came severalminutes later in small, elegantlypatternedcups.Thecoffeewasthickanddark,withfoamfloatingontop.Glassesofwaterwerealsoputonthetable,alongwithasmallbowlofsugarcubes.

JakeaskedthewaiterifSadikwasthere.Thewaiterpointedtotheoppositecorner.Amiddle-aged man sat alone, occasionally taking a small sip of coffee. There wassomething daunting about him. He looked rougher than the urban, sophisticated menaround them.Hewaswearing corduroypants stuck into heavyboots and awhite shirt,openattheneck.

“Helookslikehecouldcapturea leopardwithonehandandpluckout thewhiskerswithhisteeth,”Danwhispered.

“CanyoutellhimthatAdilsentus?”Jakeasked.

Thewaiter headed over to the other table.He bent and spoke.Theman flicked hisgazeovertotheirtable.Hetookalongmomenttostudythem.

Hemadehiswayover,holdinghis coffee.Heput thecupdownprecisely, then sat.“Adiltoldyouaboutme?”

“Hesaidyouwereamountainguide,”Jakesaid.“WeneedonetoleadusthroughtheTaurusMountains.We’rezoologystudents.We’relookingforaleopard.”

Heshrugged.“Therearenoleopardsanymore.”

“Wehavereasontobelievethatthereisone.”

Heshookhishead.“Impossible.Ihavebeenalloverthosemountainsandhaveneverseenevidenceofthis.Juststoriesthatevaporateintofairytales.”

“Wedon’tthinkso.Andwe’rewillingtopaywellforyourtime.Weneedsomeonetotakeustoacertainspotandletusseeifwecantracktheleopard.”

“Ifyouaresosureyou’reright,huntingleopardsisadangerousgame.Whatwillyoudoifyouseeone?”

“Shootitwithadarttoparalyzeitsowecanphotographit.”

HegazedatJakewithimpassivebrowneyes.“Isee.”

“Wewouldpaydoubleyourrate.”

Heinclinedhisheadtotheside.

“Withafiftypercenttipifwelocatetheleopard.”

Hetookasipofcoffee.

“Canyougetyourhandsonrifleswithtranquilizerdarts?”Jakeasked.

“Imakeitmybusinesstogetmyhandsonanythingifthepriceisright.”

Jakewaited.Theyalldid.Dantookonesipofthestrongcoffeeandittookallhiswillnottochoke.Hetookagulpofwater,watchingtheman’sfaceasheconsideredthem.Dantriedtolookmatureandreadyforanything.

“Wewillsetoffatdawn,”Sadiksaid.

SadikshowedupatthehotelinabatteredJeep.NowthatitcametimetopartfromPony,Jonah,Atticus, and Jake,Amy felt uncertain.She realized that shehadn’t been entirelyhonestwithherself.ShehadtakenastandinIrelandandsaidshedidn’tneedJake.Ithadtorn her up to say it, but she had done it. But now that shewas here… she suddenlyneededhimdesperately.Shehatedthefeeling.

Theysaidgood-byestandingbytheJeep.“We’ll textyouassoonasweget intothemuseum,”Jonahsaid.“Sodon’tworry,homeys,we’llhaveyourbacks.”

“Idon’tknowaboutthis,”Jakesaid.“Maybeweshouldn’tsplitup.”

“Youdon’tthinkwecanhandlealeopard?”Danasked.“HaveyoutakenagoodlookatSadik?He’sDarthVaderandHanSolocombined!Chancesarewe’llbetogetherbackatthehotelinadayorso.”

“Right,”Jakesaid,thoughhedidn’tseemtomeanitonebit.

“Come on, Amy,” Ian urged. He took her hand to help her into the van, and Jaketurnedaway.

AmyfacedforwardasSadiktookoff.Sherefusedtolookback.Shedidn’twanttoseeJakedwindlinginthedistance.Shedidn’twanttocry.

Suddenly,thepassengerdooropened.Abackpackthumpedinside,followedbyJake,who swung himself into the seat, breathing hard. “Jonah and Atticus can handle themuseum,”hesaid.“I’mcomingalong.”Hemethereyesintherearviewmirror.“Ithinkyoucanhandlemountainclimbingandaleopard.Butmaybenotbothatonce.”

TheystoppedinasmallvillagetopickuptwofriendsofSadik’s,OrhanandDerin.TheTaurusrangeloomedagainstabrightbluesky,snowstillonthehighpeaks.SadiktookamountainroadthatledaroundaseriesofswitchbacksthathadAmyclutchingherseat.Hepulledoverinasmallparkingareainahighmountainpasture.Theyweretheonlycar.

“If you want to find a leopard, we have to take the less-traveled path,” he said.“Difficultclimb.”

“Wecandoit,”Amysaid,jumpingoutofthecar.

Sadik led theway. The three guides didn’t speakmuch. Theywalked ahead of thegroup,assure-footedasgoatsonthetrail.Amyandtheothersstruggledonthelooserocksandslidingsoil.Itwashardtokeeptheirfooting.OnlyHamiltonwasabletokeeppacewiththeguides.

Climbingwasexhausting.Theymadecampthefirstnightand theguidesspreadoutsleepingbagsaroundafire.

Theywereupatdawn,eating toastedbread,oranges,andawonderfulcheeseSadikcalledbeyazpeynirforbreakfast.TheguidesbrewedthestrongblackcoffeethatAmywasnowalmostusedto.

They set off, climbing steadily upward, pointing out the goats clambering over therocks. The air was clear and cold, with snow patches dotting the landscape. The treesbegan to thin out, and conifers defined the landscape. They came across a field ofsnowdrops,andAmybegantofeelshehadascendedintoamagical,mysticalworld.

“ThemountainsofTurkeyarefulloflegends,”Jakesaid.“YoucouldsaythatthefirstbeautycontesttookplaceonMountIda.Parishadtochoosethemostbeautifulgoddess—Hera,Athena, orAphrodite.Aphrodite toldhim that if he choseher, he couldhave themostbeautifulmortalwomanintheworldashiswife.ThatwasHelen.”

“Ah,”Amysaid.“AndsotheTrojanWarbegan.”

“ThegodswatchedthefallofTroyfromMountIda,”Jakewenton.“Youcanfeelthelegendshere.Thehistoryisinthestonesandtheground.Eveninthescentoftheair.Thesamewildherbsgrewherethen.Youcanalmostthinkwecanfindaleopard.”Hegrinned.

“Withthehelpofthegods,ofcourse.”

Jake’swordsrevolvedinherheadastheyclimbed.She,too,feltsomethingintheairthat shecouldn’tdefine.For Jake, itwashistoryand legend.Forher, itwasapresencelurkingbehindthem.Thereweretimesshefeltasthoughtheleopardwastrackingthem.

Shestumbledonthepath,andJakecaughther.“Areyouokay?”heasked.

Sherealizedthatshefeltabitdizzy,andherheadached.“I’mfine,”shesaid.

Their guides spoke in low voices, and she caught them, too, looking over theirshoulders.

TheywereclosetotheGPScoordinatesnow.Danwasstrugglingabitandhadtousehisinhaler.Theywereinaruggedlandscapeofbouldersandscrub.Abovethemweretallcliffs,risinglikeawallinfrontofthem.Oddshadowsplayedonthesurface.

“Caves,”Sadiksaid.“Thecliffislimestone.Porousrock.Wecouldbestandingonanundergroundriverrightnow.”

“Isthereawayup?”Hamiltonasked.

“There is a trail. But we need tomake camp here. The trail is narrow and can bedangerousatdusk.Tomorrow.”

OrhansaidafewwordsinTurkishtoSadikandbegantowalkfartherupthetrail.

“Whereishegoing?”Jakeasked.

“Toscout for tomorrow,”Sadik said. “Sometimes therecanbe rockslides thatblocktheway.”

They began to set up camp.Nightwas falling fast. Sadikwent to an overlook andstoodforalongtime,lookingout.

“Doyouthinksomeoneelseisoutthere?”Amyaskedwhenhecameback.

“Thereisalwayssomeoneelseoutthere,”Sadiksaid.“Wedon’townthemountain.”Hesquattedbythefire.“Andthentherearethethingsnotseen.Thespiritsofthegods.The ghosts of leopards. Perhaps that iswhat you are chasing.Aghostwhowalks.”Hewinkedather.

Amy felt a chill down her spine. Jake drifted closer. “He’s teasing you,” he said.“Don’tlethimspookyou.”

Butshewasspooked.Shefelttiredanddrained,andwhenshepressedahandtoherforeheadsherealizeditwaswarm.Probablyfromthefire.

Itwasclosetodarknow.DerinaskedaquestionofSadik.Sadikgesturedupthepath.ProbablyDerinwasaskingaboutOrhan.

Suddenly, they heard the noise of footsteps, rocks sliding down the hill.Orhanwasmovingfast,hurryingtowardthem.HesaidawordinTurkish.

“Whatdidhesay?”Danasked.

SadikignoredDan.Helistenedintently toOrhan’srapidspeech.Heshookhishead,butOrhanjustspokemoreinsistently.

“Whatisit?”Jakeasked.

Sadikturnedtothem.“Apawprint.Orhanswearsitisaleopardprint.Notalynx,notajackal.Aleopard.”

“Heissure?”

“He is sure.We’ll sleepwithour rifles tonight.Andyoushouldhavedartpistolsaswell.Weshouldallbearmed.”

Themuseum turned out to be a private house that had been set up as theMuseum ofHistoricalandAncientCuriosities.AfadedsignreadWELCOMETOURISTS!Another:KNOCKNEXTDOORFORCURATOR.

“Thisfeelswaysketchytome,”Jonahsaid.

“IfPonywerehere,he’dprobablysayitsmellslikebogosity,”Atticussaid.“Luckyhestayedinthehotel.”

“Highonthebogusmeter,”Jonahagreed.“Buthereweare.”

Theywalkednextdoortoasmallhouseandknockedsharply.Afterafewmoments,amiddle-agedmanwithlivelyeyesanddarkhairstreakedwithsilveropenedthedoor.Hewascarryinganewspaper.“CanIhelpyou?”

“We’dliketoseethemuseum.”

Heburstintoawidesmile.“Excellent!Ishallfetchthekey.”

Hedisappearedforamomentandthenreappeared.Theywalkedbacktothemuseumand he fitted the key into the lock. The door stuck, and he shoved it with a shoulder.“Excellent security,yousee,”hesaid.“Thedoor sticks!”Chuckling,he led them insideandswitchedonthelights.

Inside,itdidlooklikeanactualmuseum.Thewallswerewhitewashedandlinedwithcases.AtticuspausedbyadisplayofRomanartifacts.

“You know, some of the most interesting artifacts you can find are in these littlemuseums,”Atticussaid.

“Exactly,”thecuratorsaid.“Thisareaissorichinancientcultures.Youcan’tgoforawalkwithouttrippingoveraRomancoin.Heh.Andwehavesomefinepiecesofamberthathavepreservedancientinsects….”

“Fascinating,”Atticussaid.

“Bro,” Jonah said, excitement inhis voice, “I seeourprey.”Henodded to theverybackofthemuseum.Adioramahadbeensetupwithanapproximationofthelandscapearoundthem.Astuffedleopardwascaughtmidstride.

“Yes,ourAnatolianleopard,”thecuratorsaid.“Oneofthelastofitsbreed.”

Theyapproached.“I’minterestedintaxidermy,”Atticussaid.“Theeyes…”

“Glass.But they look like theeyesof the leopard,do theynot?Greenandpiercing.Mystical…”

“Thewhiskers?”Jonahasked.“Aretheyreal?”

“Plastic.Solifelike!”

JonahandAtticusexchangedaglance.Defeated.Theyturnedtogo.

“Wehaveagiftshop!Don’tforget!”Thecuratorhurriedafterthem.“Lovelypiecesofamber,replicasofRomancoins,lotsofgiftstobringback!”

Theykeptonwalking.

“And ifyouare interested in leopards—andwho isn’t,magnificentcreatures!—Ihavesomeartifactspreservedinamber—leopardwhiskers….”

Theystopped.

“Youhaveleopardwhiskerspreservedinamber?”Atticusasked.

“Yes! In theancientamberdisplay, right…”Thecurator stopped.He reachedoutafinger.Hepushedthefrontdoorofthedisplaycase.Itswungopen.

Therewasashortpause.Thenheshouted,“Nooooo!”

“What’smissing?”Atticusasked,buthealreadyknewtheanswer.

“WHEREAREMYLEOPARDWHISKERS?”

AmydreamedofAphroditeandAthena,andofOlivia,snippingherbs,steepingtheminspringwater.Bathingher forehead.Placingacoolhandoverher lips.Thehandwas…biggerandrougherthansheexpected.

Amyopenedhereyes.Jakehadhishandoverhermouth.

“Something’sgoingon,”hewhispered.

Shestruggledtorise.“What?”

“Iheardnoises.Therearelightsonthetrailbelow.Ithinkwe’vebeenfound.”

“What?WhereareSadikandtheguides?”

“Theytookoff,”Dansaid,comingup.“Wehavetohide.It’stheguysthatattackedusinNewYorkandLondon.Sixofthem.Isawthemthroughtheinfraredbinoculars.”

“Butwherewillwego?”Amyasked.

“Onlyonedirection,”Hamiltonsaid.“Up.”

Theyquicklyrolleduptheirbags.Amyfeltasthoughshewasmovingthroughwater.Itwaslikeanightmare,exceptshewascompletelyawake.ShepulledonherfleeceandhershoesandquicklyfollowedDan,Jake,Hamilton,andIanas theymadetheirwayasquietlyastheycouldupthepath.

The path narrowed as they twisted and turned. The lights behind them movedrelentlesslyforward.Theirbreathcloudedinthefrostyair.

“They’removingfast,”Dansaid.“Wecouldgettrappedonthesummit.Icanseetheheadline now. CAHILL KIDS LOSE ALTITUDE FAST.” She could hear the fearunderneaththejokingtone.

Hamiltonlookedupattheclifffacerisingabovethem.“Thinkwecangetuptothosecaves?”

“Inthedark?”Danlookedup.

Suddenly,abulletthuddedintothedirtonlyinchesfromthem.Theyalldoveforthedirtandhuggedit.

“Um,Icandoit,”Dansaid.“Forsure.”

“Theymusthaveinfraredscopesontherifles,”Hamiltonsaid,traininghisbinocularsdownthemountain.

Anotherbulletthuddedintoabouldernearby.

Hamiltonfishtailedonhisbelly,crawlingaway.“Followme!”

Hebrought them to safetybehind a standof boulders by the cliff as another bullet,thenanother,pingedintothedirt.

Hamiltonlookedupatthecliff.“Look,Ithinkthey’reattheveryendoftheirrange.Seethepatternofthebullets?Theycan’tquitereachthecliff,I’mguessing.”

“You’reguessing?”Ianasked.

“They’llbeinrangesoon,though.Ouronlychanceistoscalethatcliffnow.”

“Andthenwhat?”Jakeasked.

“Hideinthecaves.Hopehelparrives.”

“We’reinthemiddleofnowhere!”Ianprotested.

Withanothersprayofriflefire,theyexchangedglances.

“Hamiltonisright,”Amysaid.“Wehavetotakeourchancesandclimb.”

“Thecaveopeningsaresmall,”Jakesaid.“Let’sstayasclosetogetheraswecan,buttherewon’tbeacavetofitallofus.”

Amypressedahandtoherhead.

“Amy?”Jakelookedather,worried.“Areyouokay?”

“Stopaskingmethat,”shesaidsharply.“OfcourseIam.”Herheadached,butshehadbiggerproblems.Sheroseandfacedthecliff. Itwashard toconcentrate.Shefeltdizzy,andshewasn’tsureshecouldscalethecliff.

Behindheranotherbulletslammedintoarock.

Icanscalethecliff.

Shelaunchedherselfupandbegantoclimb.Nowthatshewasupclose,shecouldseethe rockwas porous and offered handholds and footholds. Therewas just enough lightfromthehalfmoonandskyfullofstarstosee, ifshewascareful.Sheforcedherself toconcentrate.Think,Amy.

She could see down the slope to the lightsmoving steadily upward.Danwas rightbehindher, IanandJakebelowhim,andHamiltonwasscaling thewallnext toher, thefastestofallofthem.

Suddenly,abulletslammedintotherock.Shardswentflying.

“We’reinrange!”Hamiltonshouted.“Hurry!”

Shecouldseeacaveopeningafewfeetaboveher.Itwasjustbigenoughforhertoclimbinto.“Dan!”shecalled.“Here!”

Sheswunginsidejustasanotherroundofgunfireexplodedonthecliffface.“DAN!”

She saw his white face only a few feet away. He was safely tucked into a cave.Hamiltonwasjustabove.JakeandIanhadfoundacavebigenoughforbothofthem.

Thecliffshoneinthemoonlight,serene.Shetextedtheothers.

Onebyonethereportsarrived.Everyonewassafe.

Amysettledherselfinandfacedout,watchingthelightsadvance.

As the nightwore on, the cold settled intoAmy’s bones. Sweat had dried on her skin,makinghershiver.Herskinfelthot.Sheknewshewasfeverish.

Throughblearyeyesshewatchedasthemenslowly,inexorablymadetheirwayupthemountain.Theysetupcampbelowthecliffs.Theymethodicallysetoutsleepingbagsandsataroundasmallfire.Oneofthemensatwitharifleacrosshisknees,facingthecliffs.Onceinawhilehe’dspraythecliffface,justforfun.

Herphonevibrated.Shepeekedatit.ItwasfromJaketoallofthem.

Themenwerewaitingfordaylight,Amythought,restingherheadagainstthestone.Shelickedherlipsthirstily.Howshewishedshe’dhadachancetobringwateralong.Sherestedherhotforeheadagainstthecoolstoneofthecavewall.

Hamiltonwouldputupagoodfight.SowouldJake.Sowouldallofthem.Butshe’dseen these guys in action. They had a Tomas boost, and it made them close toindestructible.Shedidn’tthinkitwouldbeafighttheCahillscouldwin.

Shehadbroughtthemallheretothismountain.Shehadtogetthemout.

Theywereallseparatedbyyardsofcliff.Iftheyventuredout,itwouldbeeasytopickthemoff.Makeitlooklikeanaccidentsomehow,theCahillkidsrecklesslyseekingthrillsonamountainandfallingtotheirdeathswiththeirfriends.

She could see the headlines. She pressed her hands hard against her eyes.The palemoon reverberated in blackness behind her closed lids, light bleeding and bouncing…likefireworksinthefog,Amythought,andwonderedifshewasdelirious.

Then she heard a low, intense sound. Somewhere between a growl and a purr. Thehairs on the back of her neck stood up. Fear caused her entire body to clench. Earsstraining,shelistened.

Thegrowlcameagain.

Itwasbehindher.

Amyflattenedherselfagainst thecavewall.Shebreathed inandout, trying tocalmherself.Shetriedtothinkthroughthepanic.

Shecouldn’tleavethecave.Thelookoutwouldseeher.

Shecouldn’tsithereallnight,waitingfortheleopardtoattackher,either.

Itmightnotbealeopard.Itcouldbe…somethingnotquitesolethal.Otheranimalsgrowledlikethat,didn’tthey?Alynx,ajackal,Sadikhadsaid.

Amyslippedthepistolwiththeparalyzingdartfromherwaistband.

Hereyeswereaccustomedtothedarknessnow.Shemovedcarefullytowardtherearofthecave.Afterawhile,thegroundslantedupward.Theairfeltcloseandsmelleddamp.Sheheardsomething…adrip,drip,drip.As shemoved forward, she realizedher feetwerewet.

Therewasastreaminthecave.Sothatmustcomefromsomewhere.Thegroundwasslopingmoresharplyupwardnow,andshestrugglednottoslipassheclimbed.Shekept

walking,followingthenoiseofthelow,rattlingsound.

Hernostrilstwitched.Freshair.Shecouldsmellit.Therewasanotheropeninginthecave!

Amysoonbegantoseethefaintestoflightahead.Shehadtodroptoherknees,butshecrawledoutof thecave, rightonto thesummitof themountain.The faint lightwascastbythecountlessstars.

She heard the purring growl again. She froze. She could just make out a pile ofbouldersabouttwentyfeetahead.Shegrippedthedartpistol.

Suddenly,outofthedarknessshesawapairofgleaminggreeneyes.Theshockofthesightandhershakinghandscausedher todropthepistol.Sheheard itskitteraway,falldowntheslipperyshale,outintothedarkness.

Terrorparalyzedher.Shehadnowheretogo.

Thegrowlcameagain,freezingherblood.

Thegreeneyesremindedherofsomething.Herdream.Oliviahadthoseeyes,greenandclear….

Shethoughtatthatmomentofherancestor.Shethoughtofthecourageandpersistenceshe’dglimpsedinthepagesofthatjournal.OfMadeleine,whohadbeguntheMadrigals,whohadalsonevergivenup.

And Grace. She thought of Grace. Her grandmother would stand, just as she was,facingthatanimalpresence,andshewouldn’tflinch.

Shestaredintothedarknesswheresheknewtheotherpresencewas.Theterrorleftherandshefeltasortofcommunionwiththelifethatwasstandingonlyyardsawayunderthetrees,hunted,thelastofitsbreed.

Ineedsomethingfromyou.Iwon’tharmyou.Butifyougivemethisgift,itwillsavemypeople,justasyouwouldhavewantedtosaveyourown.

Thedarknesswasbeginningtolift.Shecouldmakeouttheedgesofthings.Thetreetrunks,therocks,theleaves.

As the lightgrewandbrightened,she lookedbehind tosee that shewasstanding infront of a broad vista. Far below she could see men hurrying up the trail. They woreuniforms.Sotheguideshadleftthem,buttheyhadgoneforhelp.

Themenbelowwerequicklyassemblingtheirgear.Theywereretreating.

Danandtheothersweresafe.

Sheturnedbacktowheretheleopardhadbeen.Nothingwasthere.Thelighttouchedaflatrockandsomethinggleamed.Shewalkedforward.

Sixwhiskers.

Shecrouched.Weretheyreal?Shetouchedthemwithherfinger.Asubstanceclungtooneofthem,somethingcaramelcolored,aprettyshardofstone,andshebrusheditaway.

Sheturnedassheheardthenoiseoftumblingshale.Suddenly,oneofthethugsvaultedoverthelipofthecliff.Itwastheshort,powerfullybuiltonewiththeblondbuzzcut.Heusedthemomentumofhisleaptokeepgoing,chargingtowardher.

PanicshotthroughAmy.Shetriedaflyingkick.Herlegfeltlikelead.Itglancedoffhishardbodyashetookthelaststeptowardher.Hewrappedhismeatyhandsaroundherneckandsqueezed.Shecouldsmellhissweatandseethedeterminationinhisgaze.Buthiseyeslookedsodead….

Blackspotsswaminfrontofhereyes.Herkneesbuckled.

ThegrimaceofsatisfactiononhisfaceturnedtoanOofsurprise.Hiseyesrolledbackinhishead,andhefellheavilytotheground.

Jakestoodbehindhim,aparalyzerguninhishand.

Hedashedtowardher.“Areyouokay?”

Amyfelltoherknees,gasping,andhecrouchedbyher.

“Okay,”shecroaked.“Thanks.”

Hisfingerstouchedherneckgently.“You’llhaveabruise.”

“Doesn’tmatter.”Shestruggledtoherfeet.

“Amy,no!Wait…”

“Ihave…toshowyou.”Shestumbledtowardtherock.“Theleopardwashere.Sheleftmethese.”Amyheldoutthewhiskers.

Jakewalkedovertotherock.“That’simpossible.”

“Buttheimpossiblecanbepossible.”Sheweavedandfellagainsthim.Hecaughther.

“I’msodizzy….”shesaid.Shewashappytoleanagainsthimnow.

“Ithinkyouhavealtitudesickness,”Jakesaid.“I’mserious,Amy.Weneedtogetyoudownthemountain.”

“Isawher,Jake!Isawhereyes….”

Asthelightgrew,theconfusioninherheadwasbeginningtoclear.“Overthere,”shesaid.Shetriedtojudgetheexactspotwhereshe’dseentheleopard’sgreenglowingeyes.

ShewalkedpastJake,searchingtheground.Itwasallrockandshale.

Except for one clear patch of dirt. She crouched down to examine it. It wasn’t theimpressionofaleopard’spaw.Itwasaboot.

SneakPeekAmyandDanhavefoundoneofthelostingredients,butwillitbeenoughtostopPierce?Find out inUnstoppable: Breakaway by Jeff Hirsh, available February 2014. Turn thepageforatop-secretsneakpeek—forCahilleyesonly!

London

J.RutherfordPiercesmiledasthesixmercenariesfiledintohisLondonoffice.Eachonehadbeenhandpicked.Thebestof thebest.Hardenedsoldierswhomoved through theirlivesfreeofthefearsanduncertaintiesoflessermen.Andyetrightnow,eachandeveryoneofthemwasterrified.Piercesavoredit.Somepeoplelikedwine.Somepeoplelikedfinefood.Piercelikedfear.

Oncethemercenarieswereseated,Piercepressedabuttonbeneathhisvastdeskandthedoubledoorsbehindthemslammedshut.

“Sir,”theirleaderbegan.“We—”

“Candy?”

Piercepushedalargecrystalbowltowardtheedgeofhisdesk.Itwasfulltothetopwith small red,white, andblue spheres.Americandy.Hisnewest creationandcurrentlythefastest-sellingsweetintheUnitedStates.Themenlookedbackathim,uncertain,offbalance,justashewanted.Piercesmiledashepluckedoutaredoneanddevouredit.

“Theredismyfavorite,”hesaid.“Cherrypie.Theblueisblueberrypieandthewhiteisapplepie.Hadtofudgethecoloronthatoneabit,ofcourse.Goon.”

Hepushed thebowl forwardagainandeachman tookone.Ofcourse theydid.TheworldwasasymphonyandPiercewasaconductor.

Pierceopenedtheiractionreport.

“WhyTurkey?”heasked.

“Sir,theguidestheyhiredindicatedthatthechildrenwerelookingforleopards.”

“Anatolianleopards,”Piercecorrected.

“Y-yes,sir,”themercenarystammered.“Anatolianleopards.Whichareextinct.”

“Andwherearetheyheadednow?”

“They’retakingaprivateplane,sir,butwewereabletoaccesstheirflightplans.RomefirstandthenTunis,Tunisia.”

“Why?”

“We,uh,wedon’tknow,sir.”

Pierce turned the page to a simple black-and-white map. Turkey and then Tunisia.Turkeywas thesiteofancientTroywhileTuniswasonceCarthage,oneof thegreatestempires the world had ever known. Coincidence? Pierce thought not. But what did itmean?Extinctanimals.Vanishedempires.

Whataretheyafter?

“So, can you tell me any way in which you and your men did not fail in yourmission?”

Theleaderhesitated.Pierceslammedthereportontothedesktopandthefearlessmenbeforehimleapedbackintheirseats.

“Children!”Piercethundered.“Agroupofchildrenwhoshouldbehomeplayingvideogames and avoiding their math homework took you on and theywon. They beat you.Now,I’msureyouallcamehereexpectingpunishment,severepunishment,but I’mnotgoingtopunishyou.Infact,I’mgoingtogiveyoueachtwogifts.”

Themen,whohadbeenstaringdownattheplushcarpetingattheirfeet,lookedupathim,tentative,butallbreathingalittlebiteasier.

“Thefirstgift,”Piercesaid,“istheopportunitytoredeemyourselves.Wouldanyoneliketoknowwhatthesecondoneis?”

Themennoddeddumbly.Honestly,sometimesitwasliketheentireworldwasmovinginslowmotionexceptforhim.Piercesmiled.

“Thesecondgiftismotivation.”

“Sir?”theirleadersaid.

Piercepulledawhitepilloutofadrawerinhisdeskandheldituptothem.

“Thecandyyouatewasfilledwithaslow-actingpoison.Completeyourassignmentand return here to receive the antidote. If you are unable to complete your assignment,well,Iimaginemostofyouwouldwelcomeadeathofwrithingagonyafterbeingbestedtwicebyagroupofchildren,wouldn’tyou?”

ThedoubledoorsbehindthemenswungopenasifbytheforceofPierce’swill.

“There,”hesaid.“Consideryourselfmotivated.Nowgo!”

Oncetheyweregone,Piercepoppedtheantidoteintohismouthandwentbacktohisreport.TheCahills.

Individually,noneofthemwouldbeofconcern,buttogether…

Piercesmiledastheanswercametohim.

Hereachedforhisphone.

“ContacttheheadsofallourEuropeanmediaunits,”heorderedhisassistant.“Anyonewhoisn’tstandinginfrontofmeinonehourisfired.”

Piercehungupandsatbackinhischair.HewatchedLondonraceaboutbelow.

Itwasacitywitharichandexpansivehistory.Shakespeare.Churchill.IsaacNewton.

AndI’llbetheonetowipeitallaway.

Rome.TheNextDay.

AmyCahillwasrunningoutoftime.

Shehadmanaged tomake it out of the airport andonto the tarmacunseen, but herpursuersweresmart. Itwouldn’tbe longbefore theypickedupher trail.Theprivate jetwassittingjustahead,fueledup,itsenginesalreadyspinningintoahigh-pitchedwhine.Shehadtogetonboardandintheair,fast,beforetheysawher.

Shepeekedaroundthedumpstershewashidingbehind.Afewmembersofthegroundcrewmilledaroundtheplanemakingfinalpreparations,butotherwisethecoastwasclear.Amycinchedherbackpacktightandstartedtomove.

“AmyCahill!”

Amyflattenedherselfagainstthedumpsterasthedoorfromtheairporttotherunwayflewopen.Herpursuerswereheadingdownthestairwayandontothetarmac.

“Amy!Whereareyou?”

Shehad todistract them.Amyspiedwhatsheneededafewstepsaway.Shedashedoutofherhidingplace tograbametal canoff a shelf.Shepoured its contents into thedumpster, thenpulledamatchfromher jacketpocket.The trash litwithadeepwhump,exploding into awall of flame.Amyput her back into the quicklywarmingmetal andpushed.

“A-my!”someonecriedinatauntingsingsong.“A-myCa-hill!Comeout,comeout,whereveryouare.”

Amy dug her sneakers into the asphalt and bore down on the dumpster, her spineburning against the hot steel, until she felt something give. The wheels squeaked andbegan to turn. Amy grunted and gave another push, and momentum took over. Thedumpsterracedoutacrossthetarmac,thefiresurginginthewind.

Gasps came from all around as the ground crew called out in frantic Italian. Herpursuersscattered,halfofthemrunningbacktotheterminaltogethelpwhiletheotherssprintedtowardthedumpster.Shehadabouttwominutesofchaos.Itwasallsheneeded.

Amyboltedacrossthetarmactothewaitingplane.DanandIanwereoutoftheirseatsandheadingforthecommotionwhensheranupthestairs.

“Amy,what’sgoingon!?”Danasked.

“Pierce’smen!Tellthepilotwehavetogetgoing!”

“Butwhatabouttheothers?”

“Now!”

Dandisappearedintothecockpit.

“Amy, are you all right?” Ian asked. “Was it Pierce’smen?Did those ruffians hurtyou?”

“I’mfine.Wejustneedto—”

“Hey!Whatareyoudoing!?”

Amyfroze,herbacktothedoor.Sheslowlyturnedtofaceherpursuers.

“Wewerejustgettingsnacks!”

JonahandJakestoodatthefootofthestairs.Atticus,Pony,andHamiltonwerebehindthem, holding up plastic bags that stretched under the weight of soda bottles, chips,pretzels,andcandy.

“Don’tlookatme,”Jakesaidasheledthegrouppastherandintotheplane.“Itoldthemwehadtogetgoing.”

“Littledudescan’tbecontainedwhentheyseesnacks,”Jonahsaid.

The boys passed Amy, dropping into their seats and pulling out snacks and videogames.Adinofconversationquicklyfilledthecabin.Ianhadn’tmovedfromhisplacebythefirstrowofseats.HewaswatchingAmyintently,anunaskedquestioninhiseyes.Thecockpitdooropenedagain.

“Pilotsayswe’reupinfive,”Dansaid.“Hey,whathappenedtoPierce’sgoons?”

Amyfoundherselfstuckforananswer,butIanjumpedintosaveher.

“Falsealarm,”hesaid.“Mightaswellgettoourseats.”

Amyhurriedpast everyone to thebackof theplane.Once the jetwasairborne, shecheckedtomakesuretheboysweredistractedandthenpulledthatmorning’snewspaperout of her backpack.Looking at it, she felt the same sick twist in her stomach shehadwhenshe’dfirstseenitattheairportnewsstand.

TheCahillswerethemostpowerfulfamilyhistoryhadeverknown,butnowtheywereupagainsttheirgreatestchallenge—J.RutherfordPierce,amediatycoonwithdreamsofworlddomination.HehadalreadymanipulatedamemberoftheCahillfamily,ascientistnamedSammyMourad,togainaccesstotheCahills’mostcloselyguardedsecret:aserumthatgrantednear-superhumanstrengthand intelligence toanyonewhotookit.Amyandtheothers,afraidofwhat theserumwouldmeanfor theworld in thehandsofsomeonelike Pierce, were on the trail of an antidote and had one component of it already, thewhiskers of anAnatolian leopard.Only sixmore to go and theywould stop Pierce forgood.

Unfortunately, Piercewasn’t standing idly bywhile they searched.Not only had hesentteamsofserum-enhancedmercenariesafterthem,hewasattackingthemdailyinhismany newspapers and television programs. At first he had contented himself withharassingAmyandDanwithdumbstoriesaboutwhathecalledtheirirresponsibleglobe-trotting—andwhat theycalledTRYINGTOSAVETHEWORLD!—ordumbgossipaboutAmyandIanorAmyandJake.

Butnowthathadallchanged.Amyliftedthenewspaperoffherlap.Piercewasn’tjustharassingthemanymore.Hewasgoingforthethroat.

“Everythingokay?”

Amyjumped.Ianwasleaningovertheseatinfrontofher.

“Fine,” Amy said as she hurriedly stuffed the newspaper into her backpack.“Everything’sfine.Just…doingsomeresearch.”

“Ah,well, you cannever know toomuch,” Ian said, falling into the seat across theaislefromAmy.“Speakingofwhich.DidyouknowtheAvenueHabibBourguibainTunisisknowntheworldoveras theChamps-Élyséesof theneareast?Thecafés.Theshops.Thediscos.”

Amy couldn’t help but laugh. “The discos? Honestly, Ian, who calls them discosanymore?”

“Well,theTunisians,Iexpect,”hesniffed.“SotheplanistorelyontheRosenblooms’father,then?He’sascientistofsomesort?”

Amy set her backpack aside. “An archaeologist. Apparently, his passion is lostcivilizations.He’sinTunisstudyingtheCarthaginianruins.”

AmyhopedDr.Rosenbloomwouldbeabletohelp.Hewouldcertainlyhavehisworkcut out for him. Amy and Dan had found an ancient notebook left to them by OliviaCahill,oneofthefoundersoftheCahillfamily.Thenotebookgaveinstructionsonhowtocreate the antidote, butmuch of itwas in code.Atticus and Jake’s analysis ofOlivia’snotesmadethemcertainthatthenextpieceoftheantidotewasaplantnativetotheareaaroundTunisia,calledsilphium.Ofcourse,becausenothingwasevereasy,silphiumwassupposedtobejustasextinctastheAnatolianleopard.

Ianturnedtolookoutthewindownexttohim,wherethesunwaspaintingthecloudsgoldandorange.

“Youknow,it’sfunny,”hesaid.“IwasonthephonewithNelliewhentheotherswereoffgettingtheirsnacksandIsawyoucomingoutthedoortotherunway.ButIdidn’tspotanyofPierce’smen.”

AmycouldfeelIanstaringather,waitingforaresponse.Whenhedidn’tgetonehelookedup theaisle,making sure theotherswereabsorbed in theirgames.He leaned inclose,andwhenhespokeagain,hisvoicewaslowandhalting,asifhewerepickinghiswaythroughaminefield.

“Due to recent…events,” he said, strugglingwith how to refer to the death of hisyoungersister,Natalie,“I,too,havebeensometimestemptedtoisolatemyselfbut,tomysurprise,I’vefoundthathavingpeoplearound,even”—heglancedat theothersontheplane—“thesepeople,somewhatalleviates—”

“Pierce’smenwerethere,”Amysaidthroughgrittedteeth.“I’mnotlying.”

“Iwouldneversuggestyouwere,”Iansaid.“Isimply—”

“Amy?”

TheanxiousroilinAmy’sstomachjumpedtwofoldwhenshesawJakestandingintheaisleinfrontofher.

“Youokay?”heasked.

“Wewerejusthavingourselvesabitofachat,”Iansaid.“Nothingforthelikesofyoutoworryabout.”

“Atticushassomeideashewantstorunpastyou,”JakesaidtoAmy.

ShestartedtogetupbutIanputhishandonhers,holdingherback.

“IfyoukeeptroublingAmywitheverylittlething—”

“MaybeyoushouldletAmydecidewhat’slittleandwhat’s—”

“Guys!”Amycried.

IanandJakeshutupinstantly,asshockedtohearAmyyellasshewastodoit.

“Ijustneedaminute,”shesaid.“Okay?Alone?Jake,I’llbewithyousoon.”

Therewasa tensepauseand thenJakestalkedoff to the frontof theplane. IanwasabouttosaysomethingbutAmyturnedawayfromhim,andabeatlaterhepushedhimselfupoutofhisseatandleft.

Amyclosedhereyesandtriedtoquiethermind,butshekepthearingthesoundofherownraisedvoice.Wasthereaworsesound,Amywondered,thanyourownvoice,yellingatpeopleyou love?Notonly that,but shecould feel thatnewspaper sitting in thepacknexttoher,likeanitchdemandingtobescratched.Amypulleditoutandspreaditacrossherlap.

Theheadlineread:THECAHILLWEBOFEVIL.

Toeachside,twocolumnsofthreepictureseachwerelaidoutlikemugshots.Atticus,Jake,andPonyononesideandIan,Hamilton,andJonahontheother.PicturesofAmyandDan—deeplyshadowedinPhotoshoptomake themlookespeciallysinister—satbetweenthecolumns,withspiderylinesrunningfromtheirpicturestotheothersix.

ThearticlethataccompaniedthepicturesallegedthatAmyandDanwerenotsimplyinternationalnuisances,butwereheadingupafar-reachingcriminalconspiracywith theothers.

HamiltonHolt!thearticlescreamednexttoHamilton’spicture.AburlybrutewhouseshisfiststolaydownthelawonwhoeverdarestocontradicttheCahillcabal!

Atticus Rosenbloom— the cabal’s twisted mastermind. This pint-sized provocateuruseshisbigbrainandhisconnectionstotheworldwideacademicelitetosubvertthewillofdecentfreedom-lovingpeopleeverywhere!

Itwentonandon.Ianwasamemberoftheglobalelitewhoprovidedthemwithanentranceintohighsociety,whileJonahWizardgleefullypoisonedtheyouthoftheworldthroughinsidiousmessagesinhismusic.Amycouldhardlybreathelookingatallofit.Itwasone thingforPierce toattackherandDan,but itwassomethingelseentirely togoaftertheirfriends.

Amy looked up the aisle. Jonah was showing Hamilton a new video game whileAtticusandDanwerepracticingtheiraimbythrowingSkittlesintoeachother’smouths.

Itwasamazingthattheycouldseemsonormalafteralltheyhadbeenthrough.AtticusandJakehadbothlost theirmothers, Ianhadlosthissister,andJonah’scousinPhoenixhadnearlydied.

Amy crumbled the newspaper in her fist. They’ve all been through so much, shethought.It’suptometomakesuretheydon’tloseanythingelse.

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