Hunted (5 page)

Once he was certain that the coast was clear, Ian dipped back underwater and opened his pack. He removed a smaller, waterproof bag from among the weights and pushed off, leaving the heavy backpack at the bottom of the moat. Then he climbed out onto the bank.

In just a few seconds, Ian had stripped out of his wet suit, tossed it back into the moat, and pulled on dry clothes. He was ready. With his smaller pack on, he made his way toward the temple.

The sandstone structure was magnificent. The Clue hunt had taken Ian to a number of the world’s wonders, but each new discovery still filled him with awe. Ian had known the temple was gigantic, but that didn’t stop him from being impressed by its size. The five towers at the center of Angkor Wat, each shaped like the bud of a lotus flower, stretched high into the sky, as if reaching for the gods themselves. It reminded him of the pyramids of Cairo but also of a huge, intricately designed castle, protected as it was by the walls and the moat.

And like the temples in Egypt, something about Angkor Wat made him feel like he wasn’t quite alone. It was silly, but he could swear there was something in the temple’s walls, in its floors, even in the air surrounding it, keeping watch over the grounds in case of intruders.

Ian suppressed a shudder. He could hardly believe what he was about to do.

For decades, the Cahill branches had been whispering about a Clue hidden in Angkor Wat. But no one had yet dared to look for it.

Ian knew why the normally fearless Cahills were so scared. The Lucian surveillance team had collected several images that sent shivers down his spine. Sometimes Ian tried to laugh at the idea of something so small keeping the most powerful family in history at bay. But there was nothing funny about that little carving, scratched into a door at Angkor Wat.

It was the letter M.

To outsiders, it was just vandalism. It had been slashed into one of the doors in the inner courtyard of Angkor Wat with a ferocity that could be seen in the jagged strokes of the letter.

But Cahills knew that it was the symbol of the Madrigals, the only group that had the power to stand against them. The mysterious Madrigals had terrified the Cahills for centuries. No one knew who they were or even exactly what they wanted. All the Cahills knew was that the Madrigals were not to be trifled with. Disturbing their territory to get to a Clue meant death.

And now Ian was going in alone. No backup. No way to call for assistance. Not even his little sister to help him.

That was how he wanted it. He was going to get that Clue. A little voice in the back of his head begged him to see how reckless this plan was, but Ian refused to listen. This was the only way to show Mum.

He could already imagine the look on her face when he showed up at the next Lucian council meeting and presented them with the Clue that had been guarded by Madrigals for decades. Ian would prove that he wasn’t useless. That he was worthy of the Kabra name. He’d reclaim his status as the future branch leader.

His thoughts had brought him all the way to the exterior wall of the temple. Ian dared the use of his flashlight for just a few seconds, looking around for any hints. As the flashlight beam landed on the walls, he gasped.

He’d researched Angkor Wat on the flight to Cambodia, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing the temple walls with his own eyes. They were covered, from the ground to the very top of the temple, with intricate carvings depicting great battles and victories of Vishnu and other Hindu gods and goddesses. Ian could have stared at them for hours.

But he didn’t even have minutes.

He kept moving, heading for the temple towers, toward the door with the Madrigal symbol carved into it. His heart thudded too loudly in his chest, yet he kept moving. He had no time for fear, either.

And then a shadowy movement caught his eye.

They were on him before Ian had any more time to react. Only instincts born of the years of training his parents had subjected him to kept Ian from being hit head-on by his shadowy attacker. His assailant was fast, deadly fast, and Ian felt the hard sting of a hand graze his shoulder. He dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way of another attack, plunging his hand into his pocket as he went, reaching for the tiny silver object he kept there. A dart gun.

The poison darts in the gun wouldn’t be fatal, but they were fast acting. One dart would put a grown man out of commission in seconds. Ian was back on his feet, about to fire, when he heard a slight whisper of a sound behind him and dodged to the side just in time to avoid a second attacker. And a third.

Madrigals!
Ian’s terrified brain screamed the word, begging him to run away, escape while he still could. But instead, he ran deeper into the temple grounds, firing the dart gun as he went. He heard a muffled sound and then a thump.

Good. That might get them off his back for a few precious seconds, if he was lucky.

Ian threaded his way through the courtyard. He was having a little trouble navigating in the dark, but he didn’t exactly have the luxury to stop and consult a map. He was about to make a run for it, directly across the courtyard. Ahead of him were the towers, looming vast and tall only a short distance away, but then he thought better of it. They’d expect him to head to the door with the M. The only way to outwit the Madrigals was to take them by surprise.

Slipping inside a passageway, Ian stuck close to the walls as he made his way inside the temple. He needed to get up higher, find a different way to access the tower while keeping the Madrigals guessing about his location.

He entered a small chamber, thinking it might be a stairway, only to find shadows all around him. Somewhere not too far away, someone flicked on a flashlight, and Ian felt his body go rigid with fear.

At least ten figures, dressed entirely in black, surrounded him.

He would have to give up. Beg for mercy.

But the thought of returning home empty-handed filled Ian with a sudden fury that burned so hot inside of him there was no room for common sense, no room for rational thinking. With a yell, he leaped right at the nearest black-clad figure.

Ian was tall, and Clue-hunting had made him strong. Though the Madrigal he struggled with was even bigger and stronger, he hadn’t been expecting Ian to attack. The tiny silver dart gun was still in Ian’s hand, and within seconds he was pressing it to the man’s neck.

“Don’t move!” Ian bellowed.

The other Madrigals froze. Most of them were halfway across the room, ready to pull Ian off their fellow agent, but now they were motionless, like an action movie where someone had pressed the pause button.

“Give me the clue,” growled Ian. “Or you’ll be losing your friend. If he gets hit with more than one of these darts, he’ll be dead in seconds.”

For a moment, no one moved. Ian was sure they weren’t going to give in.

But he was desperate. If he left here alive, it would be with the Clue.

The trigger of the dart gun felt cold underneath Ian’s finger. He started to squeeze. . . .

And then, one person took a step forward.

“The clue is not here.” A man’s voice. “It was taken some time ago. We are only guardians, and we do not know what the clue itself is.”

Ian stared hard at the man, trying to see his face through the darkness, but it was no use. There was no way to know if he was telling the truth. And Ian could see the other Madrigals shifting, just slightly, a twitch here, a flick of a finger there. They weren’t going to stand still much longer.

It didn’t matter if the Clue was really here or not. The crushing weight of disappointment — of failure — came down hard on Ian’s shoulders as he realized just how bad his situation was.

“Stand back,” Ian demanded. “All of you. Do it, now!”

The black-clad figures began to move as one, taking slow, cautious steps backward. Ian caught glimpses of some of their expressions as they moved, and what he saw chilled him to the core. The looks on their faces were not of fear or concern or even anger. They were almost . . . eager. As if they were enjoying this.

“Walk.” Ian forced his voice to remain steady as he gave his hostage the command. To the others, he said, “You’re all to stay in this room for one hour. If I see even a shadow, I’ll pull the trigger twice. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” said the same man who’d spoken before.

Ian had to move slowly, his movements painstaking as he backed out of the room and down the hall. He couldn’t risk losing his footing or letting the dart gun slip. His life depended on it.

They made it out to the courtyard, Ian straining his eyes to be sure he didn’t see any new attackers. There was nothing. He made it to the outer wall of the temple, then out, beyond the grounds, over the wide, concrete bridge tourists used to get to Angkor Wat.

Ian squeezed the trigger of his dart gun once. His Madrigal hostage seemed to spring to life, but then he faltered and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Ian didn’t wait to see what happened next. He turned his back on Angkor Wat and fled into the night.

The test was a success. The watcher had been instructed by Vesper One himself to create a particularly difficult trial for Ian Kabra, and when she learned that the boy was headed for Cambodia, she devised the perfect way to test Ian’s skills. He had arrived expecting to encounter Madrigals, and as far as he knew, that’s exactly what had happened. But in truth, the Madrigals had abandoned Angkor Wat some time ago.

The older Kabra child did not disappoint. He was by far the best candidate the watcher had seen. He had the cunning and skill to sneak into a well-protected stronghold on his own. He knew how to handle himself in a fight. And most promising of all, Ian was willing to do what it took to ensure that he prevailed — even if that meant threatening a hostage. The watcher liked his style. And she knew her superiors would be even more pleased with Ian’s performance at Angkor Wat.

Back in her office, the watcher allowed herself a smile as she finished her report on Ian Kabra. As soon as she submitted it to Vesper One, she was certain the boy would meet with approval. Ian was far better suited to join the Vespers than any of the other candidates.

She had done well. Once the Vespers had a mole in the Cahill family, they would be able to set their final plan in motion. And everything was already falling into place, just as it should. While the Cahills were still busy running around the world, squabbling over Clues, the Vespers were silently preparing for action. Soon, they would come out of the shadows and demonstrate their true power.

The Cahills would never know what hit them.

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Clifford Riley would like to acknowledge Rebecca Leach.

Cover design by Keirsten Geise; Rapid Fire logo design by Charice Silverman

First edition, December 2011

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