The Secret Cipher (17 page)

Tyler put his hand on her shoulder. “You won't disappoint him,” he said.

“But one man has died.” Her eyes filled with tears. “What if more die? It will be my fault.”

“It won't be your fault,” Tyler said gently. “Your dad is the one who stole the urns and buried them. He's the cause of all this.”

Pyrrha pulled away. “But I am my father's
daughter. In my world, if you share the blood, you share the blame.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” Jax said. “It's not our fault our fathers committed crimes. We are separate people. They make their own choices, we make ours. Besides, Ricardo is the one who's using the urns for evil. He's to blame.”

Tyler scooted closer to Pyrrha and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Listen, if Zeus gives you a hard time, I'll talk to him.”

My mouth fell open as I imagined that scenario. Tyler Hoche, telling the king of the gods to give his girlfriend a break? That was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. Pyrrha must have thought so too, because she laughed. Then she said, “You have the heart of a hero.”

“But the body of a gamer,” Jax whispered in my ear. She stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag. I agreed. It was bad enough that we were in this predicament, but having to watch Tyler and Pyrrha flirt was making it worse!

It was late afternoon when we reached the museum. The sidewalk was crowded with tourist groups. There was even a group of comic-book-festival people, dressed like ninja pirates. After Tyler found
a parking spot, I downloaded an image of our target. “Here she is,” I said, showing them the photograph. Aphrodite's head was carved in stone and mounted on a stand. A portion of her nose was missing, as if she'd been dropped on her face. Tyler began to open the car door when I said, “Can we please go over the plan again?” I'd started to feel uneasy and I wanted to make sure I'd memorized all the details.

That's when my phone rang, which reminded me that we needed to check in with our parents. But then I read the screen.

Incoming call from Ricardo.

Jax scooted across the seat. “Can he trace us?” she asked.

“He shouldn't be able to. The GPS is still disabled.”

She yanked the phone from my hand before I could stop her and pressed
Accept
. “This is Jax Malone.”

Tyler and Pyrrha turned around, watching from the front seat. Jax pressed the speaker button and a familiar voice filled the car. “Hello, Jacqueline. How are Ethan and Tyler? I hope you are all well.”

My body immediately went into fight-or-flight mode. As adrenaline flooded my veins, my heart began to pound, my hands began to sweat, and my stomach tightened. I wanted to go home and hide in
my room. I wanted Ricardo to go away!

Jax scowled at the phone and tightened her grip, her fingertips turning white. “Don't pretend you care about us. What do you want?”

“Give me the urn of Hope and I will reward you. How does one hundred thousand dollars sound?”

“We don't want your stolen money. A man died because of you!”

There was an exasperated sigh. “People die every day. Those who stand in my way will suffer the consequences. But there is no need for you, Ethan, or Tyler to suffer. You can join me.”

“Join you?”

“The Camels were imbeciles, Jacqueline. I should never have hired them. But you are smart. With Hope, Love, and Faith in our hands, we can rule the world.”

She put her hand over the speaker and whispered to us, “He wants to rule the world? He's totally crazy.”

“This is just like a comic book,” Tyler whispered back.

“Ask him why he robbed those banks,” Ethan whispered.

She uncovered the speaker. “Why did you rob those banks?”

“Every great venture needs funding, Jax. And
with enough money, I can have anything I want. And so can you, but only if you join me.”

Jax took a deep breath, her eyes flashing. “We'll never join you!”

Ricardo chuckled. “You do not understand, do you Jax? The urns are too powerful for children to manage. But I know how to wield them. I understand their potential.” He paused. There was a clicking sound, then came the question that sent a chill straight up my spine. “Why are you at the Museum of Fine Arts?”

Jax gasped. We looked out the windows. Was he watching us? Was he parked outside? How would we recognize him?

Pyrrha pointed at the phone. “Leave them be!” she said.

“Who is that?” Ricardo hissed. “Who is with you?”

Pyrrha put a hand to her mouth, realizing that she shouldn't have spoken. The last thing we needed was to reveal her identity to Ricardo. He'd paid people to kidnap Great-Aunt Juniper. I imagined he'd do anything to get his hands on the one person who knew more about the urns than any other person in this world.

Tyler grabbed the phone from Jax. Then he used the same obnoxious voice that he used for his voice-mail
message. “Hello, Ricardo. This is Tyler Hoche. I'm going to propose an entirely different scenario. You give us the urn of Faith and we won't contact the police and give them your phone number.”

“I thought you were a genius, Tyler Hoche. You know, as well as I, that we cannot involve the police in this matter. Can you imagine what would happen if the government got its hands on one of the urns?” As he paused, we heard the sound of an engine starting. “Boston is a lovely city. Are you going to the museum for a particular reason?”

“We don't know what you're talking about,” Jax said, a slight tremor to her voice.

“I know you are outside the museum at this very moment. I will meet you there shortly and we can discuss—”

Jax ended the call. She stared at me, wide-eyed. “What do we do?”

“He's still tracking us,” I realized. “It wasn't my phone after all. He's put a tracking device somewhere else. I bet it's on the car.”

“We do not have much time. He said he would meet us shortly.” Pyrrha grabbed the door handle. “That means he is not here yet. But he is on the way.”

I swallowed hard. Rule the world. That's what
he'd said. Was that every villain's goal? “What if he turns the urn of Faith on us?” I asked. “He could convince us to tell him everything we know. He could convince us to help him.” That was a horrid possibility. I shuddered. “I have my allergy shots on Wednesday. Is it too late to turn back and forget any of this happened?”

“We can't let him trap us,” Jax said. “But we'll have to deal with him eventually because he has Faith. The urns can't be destroyed until all three are delivered to Zeus. Isn't that what you said?”

“Yes,” Pyrrha confirmed.

There were too many challenges to face. I didn't know where to begin. “What do we do?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“The best way to get through Cyclopsville and to the Cyclops king is to do one thing at a time,” Tyler said calmly. “The strategy is the same for us. We focus on the task at hand—getting the urn of Love. Then we'll deal with the urn of Faith.”

“You do not have to risk your lives,” Pyrrha told us. “Your monument stated that you have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. You are not obliged to help me. I will understand if you wish to end this quest.”

We looked at each other. For a moment I wanted to yell,
Yes! End the quest!
But I didn't. Because I knew that no matter how terrifying this was, we had to do it. We had to succeed. Because no one else could do it for us.

And if Pyrrha failed, then she'd have to face one of Zeus's punishments.

“Let's go,” I said.

Jax grabbed her purple coat. I made sure my baseball cap was secure. And we scrambled out of the car.

As we walked toward the museum, we passed by a huge statue of a Native-American man sitting on a horse. He was bare-chested and wore a loincloth and a headdress. His arms were spread wide and his face was turned up to the sky. The statue's plaque read,
Appeal to the Great Spirit
. “He's asking his gods for help,” Pyrrha said. “I only hope his gods are more forgiving than mine.”

So did we all.

T
he guard at the museum's entrance was checking people's backpacks and purses. Because the urn of Love was so tiny, Pyrrha had decided to leave her leather bag in the car. We didn't want to be slowed down by security checkpoints.

Tyler paid our entrance fee. The cashier warned us that the museum was closing at four thirty so we didn't have much time. Ethan grabbed a map off the counter. But it turned out he didn't need it.

“Look,” I whispered. Pyrrha was walking up a grand staircase, as if she knew exactly where to go. “She can feel the urn,” I realized. “Go follow her. I'll head into the bathroom. We have to be quick.”

Ethan handed me his phone. It was four
o'clock. “Isaac said that the system will be disabled for fifteen minutes. If you do it at exactly four fifteen, that'll time perfectly with the museum's closing. Do you remember what to do?”

“Yes.” Then I whispered, “‘Unlock love with a kiss.'”

“Where should we meet?” Tyler asked.

“Back at the car,” I said. “Hurry. Pyrrha's already upstairs.”

Ethan and Tyler took off. There was no time to worry. No time to question our plan. “Where's the ladies' bathroom?” I asked the woman at the ticket desk. She pointed the way. As I walked, I repeated the plan over and over in my head. Go into the bathroom, stand close to the back wall, find the Wi-Fi signal, type in the code.
You can do this
, I told myself.
Unlock love with a kiss
. As I got closer to the door, my legs began to feel wobbly. I glanced over my shoulder. No Ricardo. No guards. No one suspecting that the girl heading for the bathroom was going to mess around with the security system. I pushed the door and stepped inside.

“Oops. Sorry,” I said as the door bumped into a woman.

Crud! There was a huge line for the toilets!

Why is there always a line? This is never a
problem in the men's room. At least, that's what Ethan's told me. Do men pee faster? Maybe that should be my next science fair experiment. I squeezed inside. Why had everyone waited until just before closing time? Yeesh!

One stall opened. A lady came out, another lady went in. The line moved an inch. Another stall opened and the line moved another inch.

It was 4:06.
Come on, people
, I wanted to holler.
Hurry up and pee!

At 4:07, my heart began to pound. Why was everyone taking so long? Something had to be done.

Two old ladies stood at the front of the line. They were dressed in nice suits and heels and were talking about where they were going to have dinner. One of them wanted seafood but the other wanted to try a new Thai restaurant. They started to argue. A pregnant lady stood third in line. Would it be totally rude if I asked to cut?

Why was I worrying about being rude? The fate of the world was at stake!

I thought about Ethan, Tyler, and Pyrrha. Had they found Aphrodite's head? Were they paying attention to the time? I hoped Tyler wasn't getting distracted by all the ancient art, and that Ethan wasn't trying to memorize the map, or factoids,
instead of creating a distraction.

At 4:10, I started bouncing on my heels. Another stall opened. The first old lady took a step. “Excuse me,” I called in my sweetest voice, the one I saved for Mom when I needed to convince her of something—like letting me go to a comic-book festival. “May I please cut ahead of you?” I wiggled. “I really,
really
can't hold it.”

“Oh dear,” she said with a worried look. “I know exactly how that feels. Go ahead, sweetie.” She stepped aside.

“Thanks.” Yes! Success!

I slipped into the stall, then closed and bolted the door. The toilet next to me flushed. Water ran in the sinks. I checked the phone: 4:12. Almost time. I held it up to the wall, searching for the Wi-Fi signal. Where was it? Come on, come on.

An announcement blared from somewhere overhead. “The museum will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please make your way to the coat-check room to collect all your belongings. Once again, the museum will be closing in fifteen minutes. Thank you for visiting today and we hope to see you again soon.”

My hands started to shake.

Where was the signal?

FACT:
Distraction is a great way to stay calm. I learned that from my counselor. We can control our thoughts by changing our focus. If something makes you nervous, think about something else.

W
hen my heart started pounding and I felt like running back to the car, I unfolded the museum map and focused on its intricate design.
Do not think about the fact that you are about to steal something,
I told myself.
Do not think about all the laws you are going to break. Instead, memorize this page of information.

“This is the Huntington staircase,” I said as Tyler and I followed Pyrrha. The museum didn't appear to be
very crowded. Jax was already in the bathroom. She'd never been good with technical stuff, so it worried me a little that she was the one who was going to disable the security system. She got impatient when things didn't work the way they were supposed to. That's why she didn't currently own a phone. She'd gotten mad at it because the battery kept dying. So, in a fit of frustration, she threw it into the river.

If anything goes wrong, please don't throw my phone into the toilet.

“The artist is John Singer Sargent,” I said as we passed beneath a huge domed ceiling that was covered in murals of Greek and Roman gods. Did any of these portraits resemble the real gods? I might have asked that question but Pyrrha kept walking, as if pulled by a leash. “This is the Upper Rotunda,” I said, reading the map.

“What does Ricardo look like?” Tyler asked as he checked over his shoulder.