The 39 Clues Book 10: Into the Gauntlet

by Margaret Peterson Haddix

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  Yeah, I kind of did, Amy wanted to say.

  But she felt as if Mr. McIntyre had just lifted a huge burden from her shoulders.

  "You reconcile with the people you can," Fiske said. "And all you can do with the rest is to bring them to justice. Which you did."

  Amy could tell that, if Fiske and Mr. McIntyre had been practically anyone else, they would have begun jumping up and down and screaming like Holts and hugging Amy and Dan and Nellie. As it was, Fiske kind of flicked his eyes side to side and looked slightly less uncomfortable than usual. Mr. McIntyre almost managed a smile.

  "Well," Mr. McIntyre said, leaning back against a tombstone in relief.

  "Oh, no," Nellie scolded. "Uh-uh-uh. You are not getting away with such a lame response. You tell Amy and Dan they saved the world. You thank them for vanquishing the most evil woman on the planet and for reuniting the most dysfunctional family ever. You apologize for every bump, bruise, cut, heartache, and heartbreak they suffered along the way. And then," Nellie finished, "then you answer Dan's question."

  "We do thank you. And we're sorry. And--what was the question again?" Mr. McIntyre asked, which was clearly an attorney's delaying tactic.

  "What are we supposed to do now?" Dan asked. "We have the serum --what for? Are we supposed to take it and rule the world ourselves? When Olivia Cahill

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  herself thought it was too dangerous? Are we supposed to share it with the rest of the Madrigals? With all the other Cahill branches? With everyone in the world?"

  Amy gawked at her brother. Was this really Dan thinking through everything so carefully? If he'd found a recipe for superpowers back when the Clue hunt started, he probably would have mixed it up and drunk it down without a second thought.

  And yet, here he was, still coming up with more questions.

  "Why was it so important to find the clues now?" he asked. "Why was Grace --and I guess, all the Madrigals --so desperate that they were willing to risk letting Cora Wizard or Alistair or the Holts or even Isabel get it? Why, after all these centuries?"

  "Grace was dying," Mr. McIntyre said. "She didn't have many choices."

  But his eyes darted around; he wouldn't look directly at Amy or Dan.

  "Grace could have left instructions to start the clue hunt after a delay," Amy joined in. "You could have waited until Dan and I grew up. Or until Isabel died. Or-"

  "Please," Uncle Fiske pleaded, helplessly holding out his hands. "Don't you want to just celebrate your victory for now? Be happy? Bask in your impossible triumph? Not... ask impossible questions?"

  "I like to know what I'm celebrating before I put on a party hat," Nellie said sarcastically.

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  Uncle Fiske and Mr. McIntyre exchanged glances. "It's so difficult to protect these three," Mr. McIntyre muttered.

  Amy began thinking about the serum. Uncle Fiske had told them back in Jamaica that Gideon Cahill hadn't originally been trying to give his family incredible powers. He'd just wanted to keep people from dying from the plague.

  Amy gasped.

  "The serum," she said. "The plague. Is --is there another plague coming?"

  Uncle Fiske and Mr. McIntyre frowned in unison.

  "Not... necessarily," Mr. McIntyre began uncertainly. He must have seen Nellie glaring because he sighed heavily and went on. "Another family is threatening --"

  "Lucians?" Dan guessed.

  "Some of the Ekats -- Bae Oh?" Amy tried.

  Mr. McIntyre shook his head.

  "See, we've taught them that all the evil in the world lies in their own family," Fiske muttered.

  "This is a completely different family," Mr. McIntyre said. "Not related at all. They're even more secretive than the Cahills, and, frankly, they make Isabel Kabra look like Mother Teresa."

  Amy shivered.

  "They have long been interested in acquiring Cahill powers," Fiske said. "They began trying to follow the clues years ago --you might have detected their

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  shadowy presence during the clue hunt yourself."

  Amy remembered all the times she'd felt like she and Dan were being watched, the times she'd sensed someone following them, the times she'd heard suspicious footsteps in the dark. But that had always turned out to be Irina or Isabel or even Fiske himself, back when they thought of him as the man in black.

  Hadn't it?

  "Right before Grace died, a Madrigal agent intercepted a top secret message from the other family," Fiske said. "A message with all sorts of threats ... We had to be ready."

  "So let's go start mixing up the serum!" Dan said, jumping up.

  He wants to take it, Amy thought. He's just been looking for an excuse. A reason that doesn't make him seem as bad as Isabel, wanting to rule the world.

  "No," Mr. McIntyre said firmly. "Merely having the full serum formula should be enough. It is too dangerous to use, unless that's our only option. And we still have other options, thanks to you. We can deal with this now."

  Dan made a face.

  "But--what does that leave for me and Amy to do?" he asked forlornly.

  "Recover," Fiske said, looking at Dan's black eye and both kids' cuts and bruises.

  "Wait," Mr. McIntyre said. "Be kids. Grow up."

  Dan's grimace became even more extreme.

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  "Perhaps it's time to let Grace explain," Fiske said, nodding at Mr. McIntyre.

  "Grace?" Amy whispered.

  * * *

  Dan looked around frantically. He could tell Amy was thinking the same thing as him: Maybe even Grace's funeral was a Madrigal hoax! Maybe the clue hunt was the biggest fake-out of all! Maybe ... maybe Grace is still alive!

  But their beloved grandmother wasn't striding across the pebble beach or sailing toward them. Mr. McIntyre was only kneeling beside a tombstone, pushing some sort of hidden lever, then reaching into the tombstone itself.

  "You can't read the inscription anymore, but this is Madeleine Cahill's tombstone," Mr. McIntyre explained. "The secret vault inside was Grace's favorite place to leave messages."

  He pulled out a metal box and opened it. He scanned dozens of sealed envelopes.

  "No, not that one. Not that one. Not that one ..." he murmured. "She so wanted to be able to cover every eventuality."

  Finally, Mr. McIntyre handed Amy and Dan a cream-colored envelope labeled "Best-case scenario" in Grace's bold writing. Amy stood there holding the letter like it was the greatest treasure they'd found in the entire Clue hunt.

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  "I think Grace would want us to actually read it," Dan muttered.

  "Oh. Right," Amy said.

  They both sat down in the grass. Dan flipped the envelope over and slid his finger under the flap. Amy took the letter out and shook it open. They began reading together:

  My beloved Amy and Dan,

  If Mr. McIntyre has given you this letter, then you have fulfilled my dearest dreams.

  No. That is not quite right. Let me back up.

  When you were little, my dearest dream was that you would never have to know our family's complicated heritage. I never wanted it to affect you at all.

  But, as you know, that was not to be. You were so young when your parents died. My dearest dream during that time of grief and devastation was to sweep in and hold you and never let you go.

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  I plotted escape after escape after escape. I booked trips for the three of us to the South Seas, to the Swiss Alps, to tiny villages in places that cartographers rarely put on maps. "But "rarely" wasn't good enough. I knew in my heart of hearts that no matter where we tried to hide, some dangerous relative would eventually track us down. I knew my love for you was not enough to keep you safe.

  And ... I couldn't leave in that dangerous time. I had a responsibility to the world, as well as to the two of you.

  And so I chose the safest --and cruelest -- option. For the sake of my watching, murderous relatives, I had to pretend that the most hideous l
ie was true - that the two of you didn't matter very much to me. It was the only way to keep them from killing you. too; the only way to keep them from using you as pawns in their grisly games. I prevailed upon my disinterested sister, "Beatrice, to adopt you, even though she

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  Here something was crossed out and inked over until it was impossible to read. Grace had drawn an arrow off to the side and written in the margins: "If it is wrong to speak ill of the dead, then it is probably also wrong of the dead to speak ill of the still-living. Suffice it to say that my opinion of Beatrice is no better than yours!"

  The letter continued:

  I prevailed upon Beatrice to adopt you because she, with no interest in our family history, could keep you safe when I could not.

  But, oh, how I lived for those weekends with you!

  In the ongoing struggle for power within the Cahill branches, I have been forced to do many things I am not proud of. But I regret nothing so much as I regret failing you.

  It was to my great surprise that you did not seem to hold my failings against me. Even in grief you were both still so charming and delightful ... and so eager to learn. I still hoped to protect you as

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  much as I could from the worst of your Cahill heritage. But, perhaps selfishly, I did want to share the best of Cahill achievements with you. So I took you to Shakespeare plays: I paid for piano lessons so you could learn Mozart's music. But I explained almost nothing about their connections to you. My dearest dream then was that I wouldn't have to tell you about your family's war until the war was over.

  Oh, and that it would happen quickly, so I could whisk you away from Beatrice and bring you home to live with me while you were still young.

  That was not to be, either.

  I learned that I had cancer --and that it would undoubtedly kill me - even as other storm clouds gathered on the horizon. The war we were fighting became more dangerous than ever.

  We Madrigals realized that the world could never be safe unless Cahills came

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  together, once and for all. It became more important than ever that the branches reunite, so they could present a unified front against the dangers that rise around us.

  "So -- everyone's going to be involved in dealing with this other family?" Dan asked. "All Cahills?"

  "We have always had a few friends in other branches," Mr. McIntyre said. "But now we're going to need many more."

  "But some of the people in the gauntlet--Alistair, Sinead, Ian, and Natalie --they don't even trust themselves around the serum," Amy argued.

  "No one should," Mr. McIntyre said darkly.

  Dan went back to reading the letter because he was, once again, too aware of the papers in his pocket.

  If you are reading this letter, then you have accomplished a goal that no other Madrigal has been able to accomplish in five hundred years. I am so proud of you.

  And, if you are reading this letter, then you are in possession of a burden that no eleven- and fourteen-year-old should have to carry.

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  Dan blinked. It was like Grace knew!

  Madrigals have always had a partial version of Gideon's original serum formula. In five hundred years. Madrigals have never been able to discover all the other branches Clues. We always believed it was more important to work on reunifying the family and keeping the serum from falling into the wrong hands. We didn't want Gideon's serum.

  "Recent events have forced us to change our priorities.

  When I began thinking about setting off a giant Clue hunt, I quickly realized that I once again had to choose between unbearable alternatives. I love my brother, Fiske, dearly, but he would be the first to say he could not have reunited the Cahills. I have a great deal of respect for William McIntyre and my other fellow Madrigals, but for one reason or another it was clear that they, on their own, would fail as well.

  The only people I could possibly imagine achieving the Madrigal goals were the

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  two of you - the two people I wanted to protect the most. I knew that if asked, either one of you would have volunteered to save the world - even you. Amy, though you think that you are such a coward.

  I am a coward myself.

  Again and again in these past few days and weeks, I have wanted to tell you everything, to warn you of the dangers ahead. Hut I know I cannot do that without frightening you too much; without frightening myself too much. I grow weak. It is not just the cancer. It is fear of what I am about to do, what I must do for the good of the world.

  I hope you are in a place now where you can forgive me for all the ways I have wronged you.

  "Ah, come on, Grace," Dan muttered. "We wouldn't have been able to forgive you if you hadn't included us in the clue hunt!"

  But it was easy to think that, now that it was over.

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  I instructed Mr. McIntyre to assist you as best he could, in his own judgment. And I told him to tell you, after my funeral, to trust no one. This was to be good advice for the beginning of the Clue hunt, when so much would be unknown to you. 3ut I hope you realize that I do not want you to go through life with that philosophy. Many people have failed you -1 myself have failed you, though I love you more than my own life. I can tell you that you will have your hearts broken more by the people you love than by the people you hate. But you must still dare to love. The rewards are worth far more than the risks.

  Dan looked up and saw that Amy had tears streaming down her face.

  "This was about love -- 'Love's Labour's Won,'" Amy murmured. "Grace thought we would win by coming to care about other people. And having them care about us. And, really, that is kind of what happened!"

  "That's so sappy," Dan said.

  Amy sniffled. Dan decided to poke her in the ribs just because--well, maybe that would help.

  Amy poked him back, and he knew she'd be okay. And so would he.

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  I wish I could tell you what you -face now, but I don't know how the dangers have grown since my death. I trust you will make the right decisions. And I trust that you will know whom you can trust to help you.

  I know that you will have learned awful truths during this Clue hunt-you have undoubtedly discovered the facts about your parents' deaths that I could never bear to tell you myself. You have been victims of great evil. But you, no less than I, are not just victims. I trust that this Clue hunt has also shown you your great reserves of strength, courage, and goodness.

  I love you. Your parents would be so proud of you.

  With all my love.

  Grace

  Amy and Dan looked up from Grace's letter at the same time.

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  "You are going to need us to do more," Amy said. For someone with tears streaming down her face, she sounded incredibly calm. "With the serum, or--"

  "No," Mr. McIntyre said. "Not yet. You do have time to recover."

  Our adventures aren't over, Dan thought. But--they are for now.

  It was odd how he could feel so relieved and so let down, all at once.

  For a moment, everyone just stood there.

  Then Nellie said, "So. Ready to go home?"

  "Home?" Amy repeated, as if she'd never heard of the place. "But --we don't have a home anymore. Remember?"

  "You've got four million dollars," Mr. McIntyre reminded them. "You could make your home anywhere you want, anywhere in the world."

  A dreamy look came over Amy's face.

  "We could live in Paris," she marveled.

  "Or China, where I could work on my kung fu skills," Dan said.

  "Venice, with all the canals," Amy said. "Australia, where we could surf with Shep again," Dan said.

  Nellie shrugged.

  "I'm game," she said. "I just hope the Sorbonne or the University of Sydney takes transfer students. Because -- you are not getting rid of me as your ..."

  "Don't say 'babysitter'!" Dan said. "Please!"

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  "Actually, I was
going to say 'big sister,'" Nellie said with a grin.

  That sounded perfect.

  "Really," Amy said, "where I want to go is ..." Dan looked at his sister. Their mind-meld was working quite well right now.

  "Massachusetts," Dan finished for her. Amy nodded.

  "We could have Grace's mansion rebuilt for you," Mr. McIntyre said speculatively. "We didn't tell you this before, but she did leave you that property--you're her primary heirs. And, fortunately, the house was insured."

  "Thanks, but --it wouldn't be the same without Grace," Amy said. "Really, our old apartment is fine for now. We wouldn't want Nellie to lose any credits if she had to transfer away from BU."

  "Just when I finally know what I want to major in!" Nellie said.

  "You do?" Dan asked. "What?"

  "Languages?" Mr. McIntyre suggested.

  "No, although I want to learn as many as I can," Nellie said. "I thought about becoming a translator, but, you know, with that, you only get to say what other people are already saying. I was thinking more along the lines of going into diplomacy."

  "What?" Dan said, gaping at her. "You're the least diplomatic person I know!"

  "I got the two of you through the clue hunt with

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  out killing each other, didn't I?" Nellie asked. "I am so ready for the UN!"

  Dan could almost picture it. She'd have everyone at the UN getting pierced noses before you knew it.

  "I just need more student loans," Nellie said. "Because, I don't know, I've kind of got the travel bug now.... I might want to fly to Paris or Jamaica every now and then."

  "No, you won't," Mr. McIntyre said.

  "I can so fly anyplace I want!" Nellie objected.