by Rick Riordan
"Whoa," Eisenhower Holt interrupted. "What challenge? What's she mean?"
"I am getting to that, sir." Mr. McIntyre cleared his throat and continued: '"You have been chosen as the most likely to succeed in the greatest, most perilous undertaking of all time -- a quest of vital importance to the Cahill family and the world at large.'" Forty people started talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers. " 'Perilous undertaking'?" Cousin Ingrid shouted. "What is she talking about?" "I thought this was about money!" Uncle Jose yelled. "A quest? Who does she think we are? We're Cahills, not adventurers!"
Dan noticed Ian and Natalie Kabra exchange a meaningful look. Irina Spasky whispered something in Alistair Oh's ear, but most of the other spectators looked as confused as Dan felt. "Ladies and gentlemen, please," Mr. McIntyre said. "If you will direct your attention to the screen, perhaps Madame Cahill can explain things better than I." Dan's heart did a flip-flop. What was Mr. McIntyre talking about? Then a projector on the ceiling hummed to life. The shouting in the room died down as Grace's image flickered on the screen.
She was sitting up in bed with Saladin on her lap. She wore a black dressing gown, like she was a mourner at her own funeral, but she looked healthier than the last time Dan had seen her. Her complexion was pink. Her face and hands didn't look as thin. The video must've been made months ago, before her cancer got bad. Dan got a lump in his throat. He had a crazy urge to call to her:
Grace, it's me! It's Dan!
But of course it was just an image. He looked at Amy and saw a tear trickling down the base of her nose.
"Fellow Cahills," Grace said. "If you are watching this, it means I am dead, and I have decided to use my alternate will. No doubt you are arguing amongst yourselves and giving poor Mr. McIntyre a hard time about this contest I have instituted." Grace gave the camera a dry smile. "You always were a stubborn bunch. For once, close your mouths and listen."
"Hey, wait a minute!" Eisenhower Holt protested, but his wife shushed him.
"I assure you," Grace continued, "this contest is no trick. It is deadly serious business. Most of you know you belong to the Cahill family, but many of you may not realize just how important our family is. I tell you the Cahills have had a greater impact on human civilization than any other family in history."
More confused shouting broke out. Irina Spasky stood up and yelled, "Silence! I wish
to hear!"
"My relatives," Grace's image said, "you stand on the brink of our greatest challenge. Each of you has the potential to succeed. Some of you may decide to form a team with other people in this room to pursue the challenge. Some of you may prefer to take up the challenge alone. Most of you, I'm afraid, will decline the challenge and run away
with your tails between your legs. Only one team will succeed, and each of you must sacrifice your share of the inheritance to participate."
She held up a manila envelope sealed with red wax. Her eyes were as bright and hard as steel. "If you accept, you shall be given the first of thirty-nine clues. These clues will lead you to a secret, which, should you find it, will make you the most powerful, influential human beings on the planet. You will realize the destiny of the Cahill family. I now beg you all to listen to Mr. McIntyre. Allow him to explain the rules. Think long and hard before you make your choice." She stared straight into the camera, and Dan wanted her to say something special to them:
Dan and Amy, I'll miss you most of all. Nobody else in this room really matters to me. Something like that.
Instead, Grace said, "I'm counting on you all. Good luck, and good-bye." The screen went dark. Amy gripped Dan's hand. Her fingers were trembling. To Dan, it felt like they'd just lost Grace all over again. Then everyone around them started talking at once.
"Greatest family in history?" Cousin Ingrid yelled. "Is she crazy?"
"Stubborn?"
Eisenhower Holt shouted. "She called us stubborn?"
"William!" Alistair Oh's voice rose above the rest. "Just a moment! There are people here I don't even recognize, people who may not even be members of the family. How do we know -- "
"If you are in this room, sir," Mr. McIntyre said, "you are a Cahill. Whether your surname is Cahill or not doesn't matter. Everyone here has Cahill blood." "Even you, Mr. McIntyre?" Natalie Kabra asked in her silky British accent. The old lawyer flushed. "That, miss, is beside the point. Now, if I might be allowed to finish -- "
"But what's this about sacrificing our inheritance?" Aunt Beatrice complained. "Where's the money? It's just like my sister to come up with some foolishness!" "Madam," Mr. McIntyre said, "you may certainly decline the challenge. If you do, you will receive what is under your chair."
Immediately, forty people felt around under their chairs. Eisenhower Holt was so anxious he picked up Reagan's chair with her still in it. Dan discovered an envelope under his, stuck on with tape. When he opened it, he found a green slip of paper with a bunch of numbers and the words ROYAL BANK OF SCOTLAND. Amy had one, too. So did everybody in the room.
"What you now hold is a bank voucher," Mr. McIntyre explained. "It shall only be activated if and when you renounce your claim to the challenge. If you so choose, each of you may walk out of this room with one million dollars and never have to think of Grace Cahill or her last wishes again. Or ... you may choose a clue - a single clue that will be your only inheritance. No money. No property. Just a clue that might lead you to the most important treasure in the world and make you powerful beyond belief... "
William's gray eyes seemed to settle on Dan particularly. "... or it might kill you. One
million dollars or the clue. You have five minutes to decide."
CHAPTER 3
Amy Cahill thought she had the most annoying little brother on the planet. And that was before he almost got her killed.
It all started when Mr. McIntyre read their grandmother's will and showed them the video.
Amy sat there in shock. She found herself holding a green slip of paper worth one million dollars. A challenge? A dangerous secret? What was going on? She stared at the blank projector screen. She couldn't believe her grandmother would do something like this. The video must have been made months ago, judging from the way Grace had looked. Seeing her on the screen like that had stung Amy worse than salt in a cut. How could Grace have been planning something this huge and not have warned them in advance?
Amy never expected to inherit much. All she wanted was something to remember Grace by -- a keepsake, maybe one piece of her beautiful jewelry. Now this ... she felt completely lost. 26
It didn't help that Dan was jumping around like he needed to go to the restroom. "One million dollars!" he squealed. "I could get a Mickey Mantle rookie card and a Babe Ruth 1914!"
His tie was crooked, which matched his crooked grin. He had a scar under one eye from when he'd gone commando-raiding at seven and fallen on his plastic AK-47. That's just the kind of little demon he was. But what Amy really resented was how comfortable he seemed, like all these people didn't bother him. Amy hated crowds. She felt like everyone was watching her, waiting for her to make a fool of herself. Sometimes in her nightmares, she dreamed she was at the bottom of a pit, and all the people she knew were staring down at her, laughing. She'd try to climb out of the pit, but she could never make it.
Right now, all she wanted to do was run up to Grace's library, close the door, and curl up with a book. She wanted to find Saladin, Grace's Egyptian Mau, and cuddle with him. But Grace was dead, and the poor cat... who knew where he was now? She blinked tears out of her eyes, thinking about the last time she'd seen her grandmother.
You will make me proud, Amy,
Grace had said. They'd been sitting on Grace's big four-poster bed, with Saladin purring next to them. Grace had shown her a hand-drawn map of Africa and told her stories about the adventures she'd had when she was a young explorer. Grace had looked thin and frail, but the fire in her eyes was as fierce as ever. The sunlight turned her hair to pure silver. I had many adven
tures, my dear, but they will pale next to yours.
Amy wanted to cry. How could Grace think that Amy would have great adventures? She could barely muster enough courage to go to school every morning. "I could get a ninja sword," Dan kept babbling. "Or a Civil War saber!" "Dan, shut up," she said. "This is serious." "But the money -- "
"I know," she said. "But if we took the money, we'd need to keep it for college and stuff. You know how Aunt Beatrice is."
Dan frowned like he'd forgotten. He knew good and well that Aunt Beatrice only looked after them for Grace's sake. Amy always wished Grace had adopted them after their parents died, but she hadn't. For reasons she never explained, she'd pressured Beatrice into being their guardian instead.
For the last seven years, Dan and Amy had been at Beatrice's mercy, living in a tiny little apartment with a series of au pairs. Beatrice paid for everything, but she didn't pay much. Amy and Dan got enough to eat and a new set of clothes every six months, but that was it. No birthday presents. No special treats. No allowance. They went to regular public school and Amy never had extra money to buy books. She used the public library, or sometimes she'd hang out at the second-hand bookshop on Boylston, where the staff
knew her. Dan made a little money on his own trading collectible cards, but it wasn't much.
Every weekday for seven years, Amy had resented Grace for not raising them herself, but every weekend Amy just couldn't stay mad at her. When they came to the mansion, Grace gave them undivided attention. She treated them like the most important people in the world. Whenever Amy got up the courage to ask why they couldn't stay with Grace all the time, Grace just smiled sadly.
There are reasons, dear. Someday, you will understand.
Now Grace was gone. Amy didn't know what Aunt Beatrice would do, but they could definitely use money. It would mean they'd have some independence. They could get a bigger apartment, maybe. They could buy books whenever they wanted and even go to college. Amy was desperate to go to Harvard. She wanted to study history and archaeology. Her mom would've liked that.
At least... Amy hoped she would have. Amy knew so little about her parents. She didn't even know why she and Dan carried their mom's maiden name -- Cahill -- when their dad's last name had been Trent. She'd asked Grace about it once, but Grace had only smiled. "It's how your parents wanted it," she said. But the stubborn pride in her voice made Amy wonder if it had really been Grace's idea for them to carry the Cahill name.
Amy had trouble remembering her mother's face, or anything about her parents before the terrible night they died. And that was something Amy tried hard not to think about.
"Okay," Dan said slowly. "So I'll spend my million on my collection. You can spend yours on college. And everybody's happy."
Amy felt heartsick. Arguments were breaking out all over the room. The Holts looked like they were conducting a combat exercise. Sinead Starling was holding her brothers, Ned and Ted, apart so they wouldn't strangle each other. Irina Spasky was talking in rapid-fire Russian to that kid from the reality TV show, Jonah Wizard, and his dad, but from the way they were staring back at her, it was obvious they didn't speak Russian. Angry voices filled the Great Hall. It was like they were tearing up Grace bit by bit, squabbling over her inheritance. They didn't care at all that Amy's grandmother had just passed away.
Then somebody right behind her said, "You'll decline the challenge, of course." It was Ian Kabra, with his annoying sister, Natalie, at his side. Despite herself, Amy's stomach did a little somersault, because Ian was very good-looking. He had gorgeous dark skin, amber eyes, and a perfect smile. He was fourteen, same as her, but he dressed like a grown-up, in a silk suit and tie. He even smelled good, like clove. Amy hated herself for noticing.
"I would be sad if something happened to you," Ian purred. "And you so need the money."
Natalie put her hands to her mouth in mock surprise. She looked like a life-size doll in her satin dress, her luxurious black hair swept over one shoulder. "That's right, Ian! They're poor. I keep forgetting. It seems so odd we're related, doesn't it?" Amy felt herself blush. She wanted to say something scathing in reply, but her voice wouldn't work.
"Oh, yeah?" Dan said. "Well, maybe we're not related! Maybe you're mutant aliens, because real kids don't dress like bankers and fly around in their daddy's private jet."
Ian smiled. "You misunderstand me, dear cousin. We're very happy for you. We want you to take the money, have a wonderful life, and never think about us again." "G-G-Grace," Amy managed, hating that her voice wouldn't cooperate. "G-Grace would want -- "
"Would want you to risk your lives?" Ian supplied. "How do you know? Did she tell you about this contest she was planning?" Neither Amy nor Dan answered.
"I see," Ian said. "That must be terrible -- thinking you were Grace's favorites and then being left in the dark like that. Perhaps you weren't as important to the old woman as you thought, eh?"
"Now, Ian," Natalie chided. "Perhaps Grace just knew they weren't up to the challenge. It sounds quite dangerous." Natalie smiled at Amy. "We'd hate to see you suffer a painful death, wouldn't we? Ta-ta!"
The Kabras drifted off through the crowd.
"Ta-ta,"
Dan mimicked. "What losers."
Part of Amy wanted to chase down the Kabras and hit them with a chair. But part of her wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. She'd wanted so badly to tell them off, but she hadn't even been able to speak.
"They're taking the challenge," she muttered.
"Well, duh!" Dan said. "What's another two million dollars to them? They can afford to give it up."
"They were threatening us. They don't want us involved."
"Maybe they'll suffer a painful death," Dan mused. "I wonder what the treasure is, anyway." "Does it matter?" Amy asked bitterly.
"We can't look for it. We barely have enough money for bus passes."
But still she found herself wondering. Grace had explored all over the world. Could the treasure be a lost Egyptian tomb ... or pirates' gold? Mr. McIntyre had said the prize would make the winners the most powerful human beings on earth. What could do that? And why were there exactly thirty-nine clues?
She couldn't help being curious. She loved mysteries. When she was younger, she used to pretend her mother was still alive, and they would travel together to archaeological digs. Sometimes Grace would go, too, just the three of them together, happily exploring the world, but that was just silly pretending.
"Too bad," Dan grumbled, "I'd love to wipe the smiles off the Cobras' faces.. "
Just then, Aunt Beatrice grabbed their arms. Her face was contorted with rage and her breath smelled like mothballs. "You two will do nothing ridiculous! I fully intend to take my million dollars, and you will do the same! Never fear, I'll put it in an account for you until you're adults. I'll only spend the interest. In return, I will allow you to continue as my wards."
Amy choked with rage. "You ... you'll allow us to be your wards? You'll allow us to give you our two million dollars?"
As soon as she said it, she couldn't believe she'd managed to get the words out. Beatrice usually scared her to death. Even Dan looked impressed. "Watch your place, young lady!" Beatrice warned. "Do the responsible thing or else!" "Or else what?" Dan asked innocently.
Beatrice's face turned bright red. "Or else, you little upstart, I will disown you and leave you to Social Services. You will be penniless orphans, and I'll make sure no Cahill ever helps you again! This whole business is absurd. You'll take the money and wash your hands of my sister's ridiculous scheme for finding the -- "
She stopped abruptly. "Finding the what?" Dan asked.
"Never you mind," Beatrice said. With a shock, Amy realized Aunt Beatrice was scared.
"Just make the right choice, or you will never have my support again!"
She marched off. Amy looked at Dan, but before she could say anything, Mr. McIntyre rang a little bell. Slowly, the wrangling and arguing in the Great Hall died down. The assembly took t
heir seats.
"It is time," Mr. McIntyre said. "I must warn you that once the choice is made, there is no turning back. No changing minds."
"Wait a moment, William," Alistair Oh said. "This isn't fair. We know almost nothing about the challenge. How are we to judge whether it is worth the gamble?" Mr. McIntyre pursed his lips. "I am limited in what I can say, sir. You know that the Cahill family is very large ... very old. It has many branches. Some of you, until today, did not even realize you were Cahills. But as Madame Grace said in her video address, this family has been instrumental in shaping human civilization. Some of the most important figures in history have in fact been Cahills." Excited muttering filled the room.
Amy's mind was racing. She'd always known the Cahills were important. A lot of them were rich. They lived all over the world. But shaping human civilization? She wasn't sure what Mr. McIntyre meant.
"Historical figures?" Mr. Holt bellowed. "Like who?"
Mr. McIntyre cleared his throat. "Sir, you would be hard-pressed to name a major historical figure in the last few centuries who was not a member of this family."
"Abraham Lincoln," Cousin Ingrid shouted out. "Eleanor Roosevelt."
"Yes," Mr. McIntyre said simply. "And yes."
A stunned silence fell in the room.
"Harry Houdini!" Madison Holt shouted.
"Lewis and Clark!" her sister, Reagan, suggested.
"Yes, yes, and yes," Mr. McIntyre said.
"Oh, come on!" Mr. Holt yelled. "That's impossible!"
"I agree!" Uncle Jose said. "You're putting us on, McIntyre."
"I am completely serious," the old lawyer assured him. "And yet, all the previous
accomplishments of the Cahill clan are nothing compared to the challenge that now
faces you. It is the time for you to discover the greatest secret of the Cahills, to become the most powerful members of the family in history -- or to die trying." Amy felt something cold and heavy in her stomach, like she'd swallowed a cannonball. How could she be related to all those famous people? How could Grace possibly have thought Amy could become more powerful than them? She got nervous just thinking about it. There was no way she'd have the courage for a dangerous quest. But if she and Dan didn't accept the challenge ... She remembered Beatrice clutching their arms, telling them to take the money. Beatrice would find a way to steal their two million dollars. Amy wouldn't be able to stand up to her. They would go back to their dreary little apartment and nothing would change, except Grace would be gone. No weekend trips to look forward to, nothing to remember her by. Amy never thought anything could be worse than when her parents died, but this was. She and Dan were totally alone. The only way out was this crazy idea that they were part of a great historical family ... part of some mysterious contest. Amy's hands started to sweat.
