“Maybe,” Mr. Perrot said, staring intently at the writing. “But there are some interesting word and grammar choices. Look at how she only capitalized certain words and didn’t capitalize others that she should have. The word God, for instance.”
“Then let’s focus on only the capitalized words,” suggested Logan as he read them out loud. “Conception, Withdrawn, Announce, and The Great Truth.”
“Deya always referred to the Chronicles as the Great Truth. Let us suppose this is some kind of substitution puzzle. If we replace the phrase ‘The Great Truth’ with ‘The Chronicles’, then . . .” Logan rummaged through his backpack and handed Mr. Perrot a piece of colored sketching chalk. Mr. Perrot crossed out the last phrase and wrote “The Chronicles” underneath it.
“Conception means idea or understanding,” Logan said.
“A prayer or a ceremony would also support God,” Mr. Perrot countered.
“If we replaced the abstract idea of ‘The Great Truth’ with something physical, why not do the same with Conception?” suggested Logan. “What else can support ‘the god of men’? A church, a temple, a pedestal, an altar?”
“An altar,” Mr. Perrot repeated. He crossed out “Conception” and wrote “Altar.”
“In the next line, the words ‘Withdrawn’ and ‘Announce’ could be replaced by other verbs,” Mr. Perrot suggested as he underlined them.
“Two more words,” Logan said. “Withdrawn suggests taken away or extracted. I suppose it could also mean removed or moved.”
Mr. Perrot nodded. “Announced. This word connotes a declaration, an articulation.”
“A revealing?” Logan said, following Mr. Perrot’s train of thought.
Mr. Perrot smiled. “Yes, a revealing.” He chalked it in the remaining two words.
He and Logan stepped back to read the new version.
the Altar that supports the god of men
must be Moved in order to Reveal
The Chronicles
“Could it be that simple?” Logan walked over and pointed to the small marble statues that sat atop the rickety altar at the northeast corner of the building. He bent down, grabbed the base of the altar, and slowly slid it away from the wall.
Mr. Perrot quickly went over and joined him. “Just a little farther,” he said hopefully.
Underneath the base was a hole. Logan reached in and pulled out a metal box. It was nearly thirty centimeters long, twenty-five centimeters wide, and seventeen centimeters tall, with a handle on one side.
“It’s a Destiny Box,” Mr. Perrot said. “And a large one, at that.”
The voice that answered him was not Logan’s.
“I could not have done this without you, Robert, my old friend!” the voice called from the smashed wooden doorway. It was deep and familiar and echoed under the dome. “It was rather fortuitous that we spotted you at Assi Ghat. I would have never thought to look here. You’ll have to tell me how you figured that out.”
Logan rose to his feet and attempted to draw the gun Valerie had given him, but it was too late. Simon and his mercenaries had entered the building, with their weapons already pointed at Logan and Mr. Perrot. Logan set the box on the altar and helped Mr. Perrot to his feet.
“And you must be the one and only son of Camden Ford,” Simon continued. “We meet at last!”
63
Miracles are called such because they are rare events in your life. What will you call them when they happen every day?
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
BANARAS, INDIA, 2:10 P.M. LOCAL TIME, FREEDOM DAY
Logan and Mr. Perrot sat against a wall, their hands bound behind them. Macliv and two more of Simon’s thugs had their guns trained on them, awaiting any hostile moves. Another deactivated the PCDs he had just confiscated from them. There were four mercenaries inside the old domed structure, and more could be heard outside.
“What the hell is going on? Why isn’t anyone answering my calls?” Simon yelled in frustration. “The shores and the river should be littered with the dead. Instead, people are worshipping some blue light they witnessed in the sky this morning!” He grabbed one of the little statues from the altar and flung it against the wall, smashing it to bits. “Andrea and Lucius had better have a good explanation for all of this!”
“Is there a problem, Simon?” Mr. Perrot asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
“None that cannot be solved,” Simon replied. He grabbed a knife from the belt of one of his men.
“I would be most careful with that,” Mr. Perrot suggested, as Simon attempted to pry open his newly discovered prize. “That is a Destiny Box. If you do not open it correctly, you might permanently damage the contents.”
“I know what it is, Robert!” Simon yelled back. He threw the knife to the ground. “How would you suggest I open it?” he asked, motioning to have Mr. Perrot and Logan brought over to him.
“Judging by that metallic pad on the surface, you’re going to need a DNA sample or, more likely, a fingerprint,” Mr. Perrot said.
“Probably Deya’s,” Logan added. “Oh, that’s right—you killed her. Probably not a good move in retrospect.”
Simon gave a nod to one of his men, who punched Logan just below his ribs. Logan let out a grunt and slumped in pain. Mr. Perrot was helpless to assist him.
“I have no time for your childish retorts,” Simon stated. “If you don’t have anything constructive to say, then keep silent!” He grabbed Logan by the arms and lifted him to an upright position.
“Let him be, Simon,” Mr. Perrot said. “He cannot help you with this. If, in fact, we require Deya’s DNA, we might never know what is inside the box.”
“We all know what’s in there,” Simon said. “If one of you knows how to open this damn thing, you had better speak up!”
“It’s over, Simon,” Logan said, trying to ignore the pain in his gut. “Your DNA collar, the frequency pulse, everything you planned—we exposed it all. Andrea and Lucius are dead!”
“Dead?” Simon looked startled. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m the one who killed them,” Logan said. “I did it with the frequency device we found at the plantation, the very same device that you had Monique use to kill the Council members.”
Simon glanced at Macliv, then turned his back to Logan and Mr. Perrot. “Victor was supposed to—” he started, then caught himself.
“Supposed to what?” Logan pressed. “Victor has also been exposed. The top officials know how he betrayed the WSA. I wouldn’t count on any assistance from him or from Gretchen, for that matter.”
Simon looked at Logan with bitter contempt on his face.
“You’ll never possess the hidden symbols,” Logan continued, goading Simon. “Give up now. There is nothing left for you.”
“No!” Simon roared defiantly. “You should keep up with your history, boy.” He walked over, pointed his finger, and pressed it into Logan’s chest. “The greatest conquerors may have retreated from time to time, but they never surrendered. They never gave in to the occasional luck of their feeble-minded adversaries.” He turned to Mr. Perrot. “No, I am very far from being over and done. There is more than one way to get into a Destiny Box.” He placed his hand on it, caressed its surface. “It is a shame that you won’t be able to witness my victory. But die assured that these books, like the others, will be mine. They will serve my purpose.”
“And what purpose is that?” Mr. Perrot asked.
“Power,” Simon quickly answered. “The world has always been about power. You know that all too well, Robert. Money and fame are backup singers to the tenor who possesses the power to command the audience. Haven’t you ever wondered what this was all about, why we live the lives that we live, why we play the games that we play?”
“It is about wisdom,” Logan said. “It is about learning and evolving, so that the people who come after us can continue to advance from where we left off!”
“Wisdom? Learning? Evolving?” S
imon repeated Logan’s words with disgust. “Those are but constructs created to keep people like you occupied with a mundane life, while we others get to play.”
“Give them bread and circuses, and they will never revolt,” Mr. Perrot said.
Simon smiled. “Yes. Juvenal had it right, even two thousand years ago,” he replied. “You see how little has changed. Just think of the Chronicles, how people were enthralled by the power of the words, when the greatest power was hidden from them on those blank pages, waiting for the truly passionate to discover them. Even your father”—Simon looked at Logan—“was seduced by the promise. He told the world to live by the words that they read, while he sought out the secret power of the symbols for himself. How is that different from what you accuse me of doing?”
“The difference is that people didn’t have to die for my father’s pursuits!” Logan answered. “ ‘Any desire that imposes your will on another is a desire that should go unpursued.’ ”
“You don’t need to quote from the Chronicles to me,” Simon said, as he turned to answer a call on his PCD.
Logan exchanged a look with Mr. Perrot. They needed a miracle, and they needed it now.
After a few moments of hushed conversation, Simon turned back to them. “I have some good news for you! Look who has arrived.” He gestured toward the broken door.
Logan followed Simon’s gaze. In an instant, his fear was replaced by utter shock and confusion. “How can this be?” he whispered.
Andrea was standing in the doorway, wearing her signature crimson hood. Her face was partially covered by white bandages. Logan recalled how it had been ravaged by her exposure to the frequency device. She walked into the room and stood next to Simon.
“I—I saw you die,” Logan stammered. “You and your son.”
“It would seem that conclusion was a bit premature. He is correct, however, about Lucius,” Andrea told Simon. Her voice was tired and raspy. “We underestimated Camden’s son and his detective friend, who, I am happy to say, is on the verge of death. I only hope it comes swiftly for her.”
“Your face is beyond recognition,” Simon said, clearly disturbed by Andrea’s disfigurement. He had been scrutinizing her face since her arrival. He looked into her topaz-colored eyes.
“He did this!” Andrea struggled to yell, pointing at Logan. “He did this with the frequency device they stole from the plantation. Let us kill these two and bury them, along with Fendral’s secret, forever.” She walked over to Simon and whispered something in his ear.
A satisfied smile broke out on his face. “Oh, yes,” he said, turning to Logan and Mr. Perrot. “It would seem that Andrea is very much alive.”
Andrea nodded, then turned. “Hello, Logan.” She now addressed him, her eyes the only recognizable feature on her face.
“I saw you die,” Logan said again. “I saw it . . .”
“You always were a survivor,” Mr. Perrot stated. “And you always liked to make a dramatic entrance.”
“Oh, Robert,” Andrea said in a gentle but haunting tone. “So good to see you after all these years. I’m so sorry about your daughter, but you have only Logan to blame for that.”
“While I would like to stay and exchange pleasantries, Andrea is correct,” Simon interrupted. “We have more urgent matters to attend to.” He placed his hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “We need to go to the island. But first, I must return to the Château to retrieve the three other sets.”
“You shouldn’t take that risk,” Andrea said. “I will secure them for you. Tell me where the books are, and I will bring them and this Destiny Box to the island.”
“No. I must secure the books myself,” Simon said. “I am the only one who can open the safe.”
“But how will you get in?” Andrea’s hoarse voiced asked. “The Château must be swarming with police.”
“There are many ways to enter the dungeons of Dugan,” Simon replied cryptically. “I will meet you at the island in three days. I must also parlay with Dario and the others. But first things first: we need to dispose of these two.” He gestured to Macliv, who readied his weapon. “So you see, Robert, in the end, all of your efforts have been for naught.”
“Please,” Andrea said, raising her hand to stop him. “Let me have this pleasure. They murdered my son. And I have a few more matters to discuss with my old friend here.” She pointed a trembling finger at Mr. Perrot.
Simon paused for a moment to consider her request. “Don’t tarry,” he said at last. He grabbed a gun from one of his hired men and handed it to her. “I never understood why you took such an interest in him. But let’s be done with it once and for all.”
Logan shook his head. He refused to believe it, even now. “You won’t kill us like you killed my parents.”
“Killed your parents?” Simon calmly repeated. “No, I was not the one who performed that necessary deed.” He shook his head and gave a scornful laugh. “You, with all your Satraya philosophy and idealist views, you think love and compassion are such wonderful things. Well, love might have been what got your parents killed.”
Logan remained silent now. What did he mean? How could love have gotten his parents killed?
Simon turned to Andrea. “I will leave a couple of men and a boat for you. Remember: the island in three days.”
“I will be there.”
Simon smiled one last time, took the Destiny Box, and left the room with Macliv and one other man. The other two of his men remained with Andrea. One stood next to her, and the other maintained a position in the entryway. Andrea released the safety on the handgun.
“She’s our daughter, you know,” Mr. Perrot suddenly said.
“Who’s your daughter?” a shocked Logan asked. He looked first at Mr. Perrot and then at Andrea. “You mean Valerie?”
Mr. Perrot gave a short nod. He turned his eyes to Andrea. “You thought we were gone forever when we disappeared thirty-two years ago. You and Fendral were so determined to take over the Council. I just couldn’t bear to let her stay with her mother. You would have been such a wicked influence on her.”
“Are you saying that she’s Valerie’s mother?” Logan asked again.
“Yes,” Mr. Perrot said. “She is the mother Valerie never knew. And sadly, I see that my decision all those years ago was for the best.”
“How can that be possible?” Logan was reeling from the revelation.
“Go ahead, Robert,” Andrea said. “Tell us. For even I am not sure I know the full story.”
Mr. Perrot shook his head, looking into her eyes. He spoke in a quiet voice. “I was very much in love with you once. You were so beautiful and idealistic and passionate. The way you spoke of women’s rights, independence, and freedom—you seemed to embody the very essence of the Chronicles. Do you remember the spring of 2036, the group you led to rebuild Quebec City? Do you remember how powerful it felt to bring the Chronicles to the ragged population that flocked there after the Great Disruption? Do you remember when we held hands near the statue at the center of the Joan of Arc Garden? And I know you remember the night that followed. I put aside your past, Andrea. I put aside your marriage to Alfred Benson, which you promised me was over. I put aside the life of privilege, which you said you no longer wanted. I pushed it all aside. I believed you. I was in love with you.”
He paused and looked down at the ground for a moment. He turned to Logan. “We returned to Washington eight months later, and a few weeks after that, our daughter was born. We named her Tabatha.” Mr. Perrot looked back to Andrea. “I took her home from the hospital, but you stayed because of some medical complications. During that time, Camden began to unravel Fendral’s true plans. I felt like a fool when he told me, when I thought back on our conversations, how much I had tried to convince myself that you wanted something you didn’t really desire. I realized that the power you told me you found in helping people was very different from the power I felt in doing so. While you were in the hospital, I asked you some direct questions. Do you
remember?”
Andrea stood silently, the gun steadily gripped in her hand.
Mr. Perrot continued. “You refused to speak to Fendral on our behalf, to try to persuade him to change his views and plans. You not only refused, but you said you agreed with him and intended to do whatever was necessary to help him succeed. And you told me that I didn’t understand you at all.” He stopped and waited for some kind of response from Andrea, but she offered none. “It was then I knew Camden was right, that we needed to leave and that I couldn’t let my daughter grow up in your care.”
“So that’s when you and my parents disappeared and moved to New Chicago,” Logan said. “I get it now. This explains what happened with Valerie at the Vault.”
Mr. Perrot nodded. “And this is why I told Valerie her mother died while giving birth to her. Camden and Cassandra guarded my secret.”
Andrea continued to look at Mr. Perrot. She raised her gun.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mr. Perrot said.
“Yes, Robert,” Andrea replied slowly. “I do.”
Mr. Perrot took a deep breath. “Close your eyes,” he said to Logan.
Logan did so. He jerked back as a rapid series of gunshots rang out and echoed through the domed building. He heard the frantic sound of flapping winds as frightened birds exited through the upper latticed windows. Then he heard the clinking of shell casings and the sounds of bodies falling to the ground. Then only silence. He wondered if he was dead.
“You can open your eyes now,” a female voice said.
Logan saw that the two mercenaries Simon had left behind were dead. One lay on the ground next to Andrea, the other near the entrance. Andrea walked over to Mr. Perrot and knelt down in front of him, removing her hood. “I still love you,” she said, as she began to peel the bandages off her face. “Even though you lied to me for all these years.”
Logan once again couldn’t believe his eyes. When the hood came off, Logan saw who it was who had been impersonating Andrea. She looked like her mother, especially with her topaz-colored eyes.
Journey Into the Flame: Book One of the Rising World Trilogy Page 39
