Double Cross (10 page)

THIRTEEN

“Y
OU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY
,” A
THOS TOLD
G
REG
. H
E
pointed to a young man who wore the uniform of a captain. “This is Henri, another good friend from my days in the guard. You can trust him.”

Henri bowed formally. “I understand your concern around us, however. Some of my fellow guardsmen do not realize that the king has been”—Henri paused to choose his words carefully—“
compromised
lately.”

“About a dozen of them just tried to kill me,” Greg said.

“Then we'd best get as far away from the palace as possible,” Henri said. “They are most likely still looking for you. While my own men are loyal to me, the others will remain loyal to the king.” With that, he led the way into the alleys of Paris.

“I had my own encounter with the king's guard,” Athos explained as they hurried through the town. “When I went to the Bastille, they arrested me. Luckily, Henri here was the commander. When he found out what had happened, he had me released.”

“Why didn't you just tell your men that the king was wrong about us when he issued the order?” Greg asked Henri.

“I had no idea you were alive!” Henri replied. “Or at the very least, I thought you were on the other side of France. There didn't seem to be much point in telling my men to disobey a direct order from the king in those circumstances. When my men told me they had taken a Musketeer prisoner, I thought they were crazy.”

“The moment Henri had me released, we came to find you,” Athos said. “I knew that if the king's guard was aligned against us, you'd walked right into the lion's den. Though it looks like you got out okay.”

“It wasn't easy,” Greg said. “The king's guard is the least of our problems. Milady is back. She's the one who turned the king against us. I'm not sure, but she might have hypnotized him somehow. With this.” He held up the amulet.

“The stone!” Athos crowed. “You got it back!”

“That wasn't so easy, either,” Greg told him.

“So, if she doesn't have the stone, does that mean she doesn't have power over the king anymore?” Athos asked.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Greg admitted. “As you know, Milady can be awfully persuasive on her own. . . .” He caught himself before he went any further, thinking he might have upset Athos.

Athos just laughed, however, as if everything Milady had done to him was forgotten. “Yes. That girl's mind is as dangerous as any sword.”

“The good news is, Milady has been captured. Catherine and my parents have her tied up in a secret room at the top of the palace.” Greg decided not to share the part about the deal Milady had offered him. It would only complicate things. “We also captured Condé and three of his men.”

Athos and Henri reacted with astonishment. “Inside the palace?” Henri asked.

“They snuck into the city through one of the secret passages,” Greg explained.

“Well, no more of Condé's men will be able to do that,” Henri replied. “I have sent my men to seal all the passages off.”

Greg shook his head. “It's too late. Condé already has men in the city. They're going to attack the city gates from the inside tonight. Once they take them, they'll open them up for the army to come through.”

Athos and Henri exchanged a worried look. “Do you have any idea which gates they plan to attack?” Athos asked.

Greg shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry about. The information you did get may save this city.” Henri turned to his men. “We need to get word to each of the city gates to be prepared for an attack from the inside this very night.” He pointed to each of his men in turn, naming a gate. They saluted and ran off without a moment's hesitation. However, there were only thirteen guardsmen—and fourteen gates. “I shall return to the Bastille myself,” Henri told Athos. “I could use a warrior such as you, should this battle happen.”

“My leg isn't completely healed, but I'll do what I can,” Athos said. “But first, I need to make sure Greg gets to safety.”

“Wait!” Greg said before Henri could go. “What about Condé and Milady? We can't leave them tied up in the attic forever.”

“Why not?” Henri asked with a smirk. “They can starve to death for all I care.”

“I think there's a better chance of them escaping long before that happens,” Greg warned. “All it takes is for one of them to get out of their bonds. Then they free the others, and suddenly we have assassins loose in the palace again, hunting the king.”

“Good point,” Athos said. “If anyone could be expected to worm out of a situation like this, it's Milady. How long ago did you leave her?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Greg said. “Maybe a bit more.”

“And where is this attic?” Henri asked.

“It's a secret room up in one of the highest points in the palace,” Greg told them. “To be honest, I don't know if I could find my way there again. But Catherine could tell you how to get there.”

“And where is Catherine?” Athos asked.

“Hopefully, she's back at Notre Dame by now,” Greg said. “Along with my parents.”

Henri turned to Athos. “Take D'Artagnan to Notre Dame and find out where Condé is. I'll send a team of men back there to escort you to the palace.”

“I can handle this myself,” Athos said. “You need every man you have guarding the gates.”

“Don't be a fool, Athos,” Henri said. “Never reject help when it's offered to you. Besides, you know your chess, right? The best way to defeat an army is to take its king. Good luck to you this night!” With that, he raced off toward the Bastille.

By now, Greg and Athos had made good progress across the city. The towers of Notre Dame rose close by. The boys cut across the Bridge of Saint Denis, where the remnants of the cheese shop still smoldered, and then raced across the Île de la Cité.

As they pushed on, Athos began to limp, favoring his good leg. Greg glanced down and noticed a dark stain of blood around his wound.

“Maybe we should slow down,” Greg said. “You've been going nonstop today.”

“Me?” Athos asked. “You've battled the king's guard, Milady,
and
Condé.”

“And Dinicoeur and Richelieu,” Greg said.

Athos looked at him, impressed. “When?”

“Shortly before I ran into you.” Greg told Athos what had happened in more detail. “I'm assuming the king's guard took both of them into custody, though,” he concluded. “After all, they know both were traitors to the country.”

“Never assume anything where those two are concerned,” Athos warned. “If they got away, they'll either be coming after you or lying in wait wherever the second half of the Devil's Stone is. You'd better be on guard.”

Greg nodded. “All right. And you'd better take care of yourself. You don't want that leg getting infected again.”

“My leg is fine,” Athos said, giving Greg a smile. “I owe you my life. I don't think I ever thanked you properly.”

“You've saved mine plenty of times,” Greg said.

“Yes, and then I turned my back on you.” Athos looked away, ashamed. “I was upset at how Milady had used me for a patsy. My pride was wounded and I turned on you, as though
you
were the one I couldn't trust. That was small and petty of me, and I'm sorry.”

“And I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about myself earlier,” Greg said.

“I understand why you didn't. You're from the future. That makes you awfully . . . peculiar.” Athos grinned, letting Greg know he was teasing. “But you're still one of the best friends I've ever had. I'll miss you when you have to go home.”

“I'll miss you, too,” Greg said, then added, “
if
I ever get the chance to leave.”

“Oh, you'll get it,” Athos said. “I'm going to make sure of that.”

They arrived at the cathedral, and Greg knocked on the huge front doors.

“Who goes there?” a suspicious voice demanded from the other side.

“It's
us
, Porthos,” Athos said. “Athos and D'Artagnan.”

They heard the bolt on the other side being thrown, and then Porthos peeked out the door. “Hello,” he said with a big smile. “Come in.”

“I assume from your presence here that you were successful in your mission,” Athos said.

“I was,” Porthos replied proudly. “Stefan and his mother are hidden away safely where Dinicoeur will never find them.” He held the door open wide, allowing the boys inside.

Aramis was right behind Porthos. Inside, the cathedral glowed warmly with candlelight, and everyone Greg cared about was there: his parents, Catherine, and his fellow Musketeers. Greg couldn't imagine a more wonderful sight.

“You're all right!” Catherine ran to him and threw herself into his arms. “We were so worried about you!”

“I was worried about all of you, too,” Greg said. “Looks like you made it out of the palace all right.”

“You did the hard part, distracting the guards,” Catherine said. “We didn't have any trouble.”

“And Milady and Condé?” Athos asked.

“We tied them up good and tight,” Catherine said. “And Condé's men, too. They're not going anywhere.”

Aramis immediately pulled Athos aside to check the bandages on his leg. A little blood had seeped from the wound, but thankfully not too much. “How's your leg holding up?” Aramis asked.

“It still hurts,” Athos said. “But not so badly that I can't use it.”

Aramis pulled the bandages aside and inspected the wound. “Looks clean,” he said. “And the infection certainly seems to be gone. But all your running around is preventing it from healing shut.”

“I'll rest once our enemies have been defeated and Paris is saved,” Athos told him.

Aramis sighed, but knew there was no point in arguing. “I suppose I'd better prepare you another poultice then.” With that, he ducked out the door into the church garden.

As Aramis left, Greg's parents came over to see him. Everything had been so hectic back in the palace, he hadn't had a chance to give either of them a hug yet himself. Now he put his arms around both and held them tight. “I missed you so much,” he said.

“Not as much as we missed you,” Mom told him.

“I thought I might never see you again,” Greg said.

“I can understand why,” Dad said. “Catherine told us everything you've been through. You might have died twenty times over.”

“We're so sorry you had to go through all that,” Mom said. “If only I'd never given my amulet to that horrible Michel Dinicoeur, none of this would have ever happened. I just wish we could go back home again.”

“That wish might come true soon.” Greg pulled out the amulet and his phone.

His parents gasped in surprise—although Greg thought he caught a glint of disappointment in Catherine's eyes. She recovered and smiled brightly for him. “You got them both? How wonderful.”

“Now all we need is the other half of the stone and we can go home,” Greg said.

Aramis came back through the door with a handful of fresh herbs for Athos. Greg looked to him expectantly and asked, “Have you learned anything about where the Devil's Stone is hidden?”

“You really ought to be asking your father that,” Aramis replied. “He's made some progress while we've been away.”

Greg swung back to face his father. “Really? What?”

Greg's father cleared his throat. “Well, before you left, you told me to search through the library here to see if I could find any reference to a White City of Constantine. I've since learned that you actually found that city: Arles. I hadn't figured that out—but I
did
find another reference to the White City in an old scroll. It seems that some Roman legionaires brought a piece of something evil from there to Paris many centuries ago, so far back that the Romans still called Paris Lutetia. They had orders from the emperor to take this thing to the farthest reaches of the Roman Empire.”

“That matches the story we heard in Arles!” Greg exclaimed. “The piece of evil they brought has to be the other half of the stone. They were supposed to put it where it would never be found again.”

“That's where the stories we've heard differ a bit,” Aramis said. He knelt before Athos with a fresh bandage and began to prepare the new poultice.

“Yes,” Greg's father said. “I'm guessing those were the Romans' official orders, but it seems that a commander of the legionnaires named Gaius had a different idea. He apparently felt that the stone was too powerful to simply throw away. He hoped that at some point humanity might be better suited for it—that we would have the self-control to use it for good and not evil. Therefore, he wanted to make it possible to retrieve the stone again—but just barely. So he constructed a vault to hold the stone. The vault was made to be impenetrable; only someone who was worthy of the stone would be able to figure out how to get it.”