Into the Gauntlet

by Margaret Peterson Haddix

  "No!" Alistair said, a bit too emphatically. "You're wrong!"

  Ian scribbled something on his piece of paper.

  Quickly, Sinead popped a contact into her eye -- one of the telescopic-vision contacts she and her brothers had designed. She focused as quickly as she could on the paper in Ian's hand. It was a welter of initials and numbers and question marks. Most people wouldn't have been able to make heads or tails of it. But Sinead had always been good with numbers. She zeroed in on the column where Ian had written the numeral 6. She added numbers in her head and double-checked twice.

  All three times she came up with the same number: thirty-eight. And she knew what it meant: Ian Kabra thought that the Clue-hunting teams all together had found thirty-eight Clues.

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  We're even further behind than I thought, Sinead realized, despair sweeping over her. There's only one clue left.

  The scars on her torso ached. Her head throbbed. She popped out the telescopic contact and peeked out the door behind her, catching a glimpse of her brothers huddled behind a tombstone in the church cemetery.

  I don't care what we have to do, Sinead thought. Lie, cheat, steal, betray every relative we have... We Starlings have to get that last clue.

  * * *

  Hamilton patrolled the front section of the church while his mother and sisters peered down at Shakespeare's tombstone. It was inside rather than out in the cemetery --part of the floor, really, in a roped-off section not far from the altar.

  Hamilton saw Ian and Natalie Kabra edging too close.

  "Scram," Hamilton commanded. "This is Holt territory right now."

  In a fair fight, Hamilton knew he could take both Kabra kids, no contest. But Kabras didn't fight fair. And Dad wasn't here for backup. Eisenhower had left early that morning for a top secret mission elsewhere in Stratford. Right before he walked out the door, he'd clapped his ham-size hand on Hamilton's shoulder

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  and said, "I'm counting on you to take care of things here, son."

  Did that mean pummeling Ian before he took another breath?

  Ian held up his hand in a gesture of innocence. Faked, of course.

  "Just a simple question," Ian asked. "You've found eleven clues, right?"

  Hamilton squinted at Ian, trying to figure him out.

  "Why would I tell you?" Hamilton asked. Should he start the pummeling now?

  Mary-Todd stepped up beside them.

  "Are you perhaps suggesting an exchange of information?" she asked Ian quietly. "A moment of cooperation?"

  "No," Ian said, backing away. He pulled his sister with him. "No. Not that. Not--I don't think--"

  Now Hamilton looked at his own mother in amazement. Exchange of information? Moment of cooperation? Where had that come from?

  Mary-Todd Holt was anxiously watching the other Clue-hunting teams. Sinead was conferring with Alistair over by the far wall. Ian and Natalie glided toward Jonah, like a pair of snakes slithering toward prey.

  "Should we worry about the ones who aren't here?" Mary-Todd murmured.

  "What?" Hamilton asked. "Everyone's here but Dad. And ..."

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  And Amy and Dan. And Isabel Kabra.

  Hamilton whirled away from his mother and strode after the Kabra kids. He grabbed Ian by the neck and lifted him off the ground, pinning his head against the stone wall. It felt so good to do something.

  "Where are they?" he demanded. "What did your evil mother do with Dan and Amy?"

  Natalie tugged uselessly on Hamilton's arm.

  "Let him go!" she whined. "Mum didn't do anything with Dan and Amy. She's not even here!"

  "Right," Hamilton said. "She's not here, Dan and Amy aren't here.... It all adds up. Everyone knows what your mom's like. She tried to feed Amy to the sharks. Dan said she dropped poisonous spiders and snakes on them. She tried to burn them alive. She told you to explode a cave on them. What's she up to now? What's she doing to my little buddy and Amy?"

  "Erp -- ulp -- uthl" Ian choked.

  "There they are!" Natalie cried. "Amy and Dan just walked into the church!"

  Hamilton figured this was just a ploy--like an opponent in a fight saying, "Look! Your shoe's untied!" so he could sneak in a punch when you were stupid enough to look. But Hamilton wasn't too worried about little Natalie Kabra punching him. He looked.

  Amy and Dan and their crazy-haired au pair were rushing in the side door. Their faces were flushed, like they'd run a long way.

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  Hamilton dropped Ian, and the boy sprawled helplessly on the ground.

  "Catch you later," Hamilton said. He started to walk away, then changed his mind. He leaned close, his nose only inches from Ian's. Hamilton sincerely hoped that the smelly English cheese he'd had with breakfast was still lingering on his breath. "But tell your 'mummy' -- she better not try to hurt Amy and Dan ever again. Or else."

  Ian flinched.

  "You won't have to worry about our mum doing anything else to anybody," Natalie said. She glanced at a frilly bracelet-watch on her wrist. It was the kind of thing Madison and Reagan wouldn't be caught dead wearing. "Mum's taken care of. As long as we finish this clue hunt in time." She glanced at her watch again, even though it couldn't have been more than ten seconds since the last time she'd looked. "We have to hurry."

  "Do you ... do you think Amy and Dan would help us try to figure out what to look for here?" Ian asked weakly.

  "Maybe -- if you'd never tried to kill them," Hamilton said.

  "Yeah," Ian murmured sadly. "That's what I thought."

  Hamilton had never thought he'd find himself feeling sorry for a Kabra.

  Why were there so many surprises in this Clue hunt that had nothing to do with Clues?

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  CHAPTER 12

  We're the last ones here, Amy thought, gasping for breath as she stepped into the church. It's like we're in last place all over again.

  Ned and Ted Starling had been out in the cemetery, lurking behind tombstones. Jonah Wizard was crouched down in a pew--oddly without his ever-present, BlackBerry-obsessed dad. Hamilton and the Kabra kids were huddled together against the wall. Mary-Todd, Reagan, and Madison Holt were at the front of the church, staring down at the floor. Sinead Starling and Alistair were whispering together near the altar.

  They've all teamed up in different ways, leaving us out, Amy thought. They're all solving the clue, and we haven't even seen Shakespeare's tomb yet.

  "Oh, good!" Dan said cheerfully. "None of the teams have left yet!"

  "Are you nuts?" Amy asked. "You like seeing our enemies again after yesterday? After everything that's happened in the clue hunt?"

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  "No," Dan said. "But if they're all still here, that means nobody else has figured out where we're supposed to go next."

  He had a point.

  "So where's Isabel Kabra?" Amy asked.

  "And where's Eisenhower Holt?" Nellie asked.

  Dan shrugged.

  For all Amy knew, both Isabel and Eisenhower could be out hunting for the next Clue--the Kabras and Holts still at the church might be decoys.

  But this way, Amy thought, we don't have to face the worst people who were there the night our parents died.

  Amy drew in a ragged breath. They still had to face everyone else.

  Can't let any of the others win, she reminded herself. Can't let any of these terrible people become the most powerful in the world. Because then, even more innocent people will die....

  She flashed to remembering Lester's kind, smiling face back in Jamaica. She remembered how completely his smile had been erased.

  We have to go on for Lester, she thought. For Mom and Dad. For Grace ...

  Amy took one step closer to her enemies, who stood between her and Shakespeare's tomb. This wasn't like back at the Globe, where her enemies had popped up right and left, and all she and Dan could do was run and run. This was harder. Amy had time to think between steps, to remember how much destruction t
he

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  people in this church had caused, how close so many of them had come to killing her and Dan.

  And the Madrigals want us all to be friends? she marveled.

  "Yo! My homies! Amy and Li'l Dan! What's good?"

  It was Jonah Wizard's famous voice, booming out from across the church. Amy looked down at her brother, who'd palled around with Jonah so happily back in China.

  Dan was staring straight ahead, his face pale.

  "Yo! Come on, fam, don't hate," Jonah called out. He rushed toward them, speaking more quietly. "Look, maybe I should apologi--"

  Nellie stepped out to block Jonah's path and threw her arms protectively in front of Amy and Dan.

  "Shouldn't you be in police custody?" she asked Jonah. "Under arrest for what happened at the Globe? Or --in China? Or Egypt?"

  She glared at him, her gaze laserlike in its intensity. Amy found herself rethinking her view of Nellie as an "anything goes" au pair.

  Jonah took a step back.

  "No, no, those were all... misunderstandings," he gasped. He recovered enough to flash his famous grin. "And the Globe scene --my parents are taking care of that." His grin widened. "What did you expect? I'm Jonah Wizard!"

  Was it Amy's imagination or were the corners of his grin trembling? Something unusual showed in his eyes, too --worry? Doubt? Fear?

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  From the great Jonah Wizard? Amy thought. Never.

  "I thought you said you were quitting the clue hunt," Dan said, speaking up bravely. He stepped out from behind Nellie's protective stance. "Isn't that what you told your mom back in China?"

  "Word," Jonah said, nodding. "The truth is --yes and no. I have embarked on a new endeavor. A different way of hunting clues, you could say."

  This didn't even sound like Jonah. Granted, nothing he said had ever made much sense. That was typical. But embarked? Endeavor? That wasn't hip-hop talk.

  Jonah must have noticed Amy staring at him in amazement because he added, rather halfheartedly, "Yo, yo, yo. Word."

  Amy didn't have time to figure out Jonah Wizard. She turned away from him--and immediately bumped into Ian Kabra instead.

  "Amy!" Ian said, his face lighting up. "I'm so glad to see that you didn't get hurt at the Globe yesterday!"

  Ian's amber eyes did seem full of concern for her well-being.

  Oh, no, Amy thought. Those eyes will never fool me again.

  Amy narrowed her own eyes, trying to channel some of the same cold fury that Nellie had just used on Jonah. Fury was a much better emotion than fear.

  "Get out of my way," Amy told Ian.

  "No, please, just listen--" Ian begged. He looked around frantically, wincing slightly at the sight of

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  Nellie and Dan and Jonah standing so close by. "If you'd come with me, so we can talk privately--"

  "You mean, so you can lure me off to your evil mother? To some trap?" Amy challenged. "How stupid do you think I am?"

  "This isn't about Mum," Natalie piped up beside Ian. "We're not... I mean, she's not even here. We know how many clues you have, and--"

  Amy stepped past them. Her heart thudded --she expected Ian to hit her, to grab her, to start another round of nightmarish Kabra torture.

  Nothing happened.

  Amy took another step and dared to quickly glance back over her shoulder. Ian wasn't chasing her. He and Natalie had turned the other way, toward the door.

  And ... now they were leaving.

  Amy's heart began thudding even faster. Panic made her stumble.

  Had the Kabras already found the next Clue?

  * * *

  By the time Dan and Amy and Nellie reached the front of the church, all of the other Clue hunters were heading for the exit.

  "Later, dude," Hamilton said, waving awkwardly.

  "Wait--did you find something here?" Dan asked. "Or are you giving up?"

  "Oh, uh, just going to lunch early," Hamilton said, almost sounding embarrassed.

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  He stepped out the door.

  "Did they all find the clue before us?" Amy asked despairingly.

  "I believe it'd help to sketch a picture of Shakespeare's statue over there," Nellie said in an unusually loud voice. "Do either of you have a notebook I could borrow?"

  Amy pulled one out of her backpack. Dan just flashed Nellie a startled look. What was wrong with her?

  Nellie spent about two seconds scrawling in the notebook and then held it out to Amy and Dan.

  "Isn't this a good drawing?" she asked, so loudly that the attendant glared at her.

  Dan glanced at the notebook.

  Nellie hadn't drawn Shakespeare on the paper. She'd scrawled three words: I SEE CAMERAS.

  "Well, sure, Shakespeare is, like, England's most famous dude," Dan said. "Of course they'd have security...."

  He stopped and looked around. Nellie didn't mean security cameras. She meant spy cameras. Like the one hidden in the crook of the Shakespeare statue's arm. And the one hidden by the altar. And the one hidden in the choir loft. And the one hidden in the front pew.

  The others hadn't left because they'd found a Clue. They'd left because they couldn't. And they wanted to know right away if Amy and Dan did.

  Amy reached over and took the pen out of Nellie's hand.

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  "I think you need to make the eyes bigger," she said. "Like this."

  She didn't draw any eyes. She wrote: SHOULD WE DESTROY THEM?

  "Oh, I see," Nellie said, taking the pen back. She wrote, NO, THEN EVERYONE WILL JUST COME BACK. ACT!!!!

  Dan walked toward the life-size Shakespeare statue. It was part of a memorial shrine mounted on the wall near the altar. Shakespeare was shown just from the waist up, posing with a quill pen and a piece of paper.

  "I bet the clue's in there!" Dan exclaimed.

  Secretly, he was thinking that it might be important that Shakespeare was gazing out rather than down at his paper. Maybe the Clue was really in the stone on the opposite wall?

  "Or in the words below," Amy suggested.

  There was something in Latin under the Shakespeare statue, and then a poem, which Nellie began reading out loud.

  "'Stay passenger, why goest thou by so fast? /Read if thou canst, whom envious death hath plast..."' Nellie wrinkled her nose. "Wow. That's really bad poetry."

  Dan was pretty sure she meant that for real -- she wasn't just acting.

  "Maybe the clue's in the misspelled words," Dan said. Maybe the other teams wouldn't know that no one in Shakespeare's time could spell. "'Tomb' with

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  an 'e' at the end, 'wit' with two 't's ... I think I'll copy this down."

  He took the notebook from Nellie and wrote what he was really thinking: THEY USE A "V" EVERY TIME IT SHOULD BE "U." CODE?

  "Here. I'll do that," Amy offered. She wrote: ONLY 24 LETTERS IN ALPHABET IN WS's TIME. ALL U's = V. ALL J's = I.

  Wow, Dan thought. Shakespeare only had twenty-four letters to work with and he still couldn't spell?

  Aloud, he said, "Well, we know the clue wouldn't be by his actual tomb, but I'll look and see if words are misspelled there, too."

  Dan was certain that would throw off anyone watching by way of the cameras. He moved over to look at the tombstone itself. It was so plain and flat anyone could easily overlook it.

  But it had a threat carved into the top of it:

  Good frend for Iesvs sake forebeare, to digg the dvst encloased heare.

  Blese be y man y spares thes stones, and cvrst be he y moves my bones.

  [Proofreader's note: In line 3, the first "y" has an "e" over it, and the second has a "t" over it. In line 4, the first "y" has an "t" over it.]

  "I think those weird 'Y's with the 'T's over them mean 'that,'" Amy said. "And the 'E' over the 'Y' is 'ye.'"

  And "IESUS" was "JESUS"; "CVRST" was "CURST"; "DVST" was "DUST."

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  SHAKESPEARE HIMSELF WROTE THIS AND WANTED IT ON TOMB, Amy wrote i
n the notebook. She raised an eyebrow, and Dan knew she meant, Why would he be so worried about people moving his bones that he'd curse them?

  Madrigal business, Dan thought. This has to be the lead.

  He began looking for anagrams in the bizarrely spelled words.

  Nothing. Nothing good, anyway.

  Maybe it was another problem with the number of syllables?

  Dan tried to count the number of syllables per line, but he wasn't sure if "encloased" would be read as two syllables or three. Even "blese" might really be said "bless-y."

  Amy and Nellie will figure it out if it's another iambic pentagon-o-meter-type problem, Dan thought. Amy and Nellie looked as puzzled as Dan felt. He was pretty sure they weren't just acting.

  * * *

  Curst be us, Amy thought.

  They'd been hanging out near Shakespeare's tomb for hours. Amy had read the poem in the stone so many times it was practically engraved in her eyelids. She felt like she would never solve it.

  Nellie had left the church once, to sneak in food for all of them to eat. The cookies iced to resemble William

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  Shakespeare's face had not inspired them the way she'd hoped. And Dan had just left to use the public rest-rooms outside. But Amy felt like she'd been sentenced to sit by Shakespeare's tomb for all eternity.

  I never even got to sit by Grace's tombstone, Amy thought. And Aunt Beatrice would never take us to Mom and Dad's.

  Had Miss Alice already erected a tombstone for Lester? Would anybody put one up for Irina Spasky?

  Don't think about any of that right now, Amy told herself. She could tell that Nellie, beside her, had begun silently rereading the tombstone for the umpteenth time, and Amy did the same. Good friend for Jesus' sake forbear...

  Footsteps approached --a strangely happy-sounding clatter.