The Secret Cipher (19 page)

I waved at Tyler. He nodded, then grabbed Pyrrha's hand and pulled her to her feet. “I am cured!” she announced to the crowd. She pushed hair from her eyes and smoothed her dress. “Thank you for your assistance,” she politely told the guards. Then she and Tyler pushed through the onlookers and followed me out of the gallery. I wanted to run, but that would look suspicious. But I walked as quickly as I could, the little urn clasped within my fingers.

“Hey!” our guard called. “The ambulance is on the way. You should see a doctor.”

“We'll go see our family doctor,” Tyler called. “Thanks again.”

I was halfway down the staircase, Pyrrha at my heels. When I reached the ground floor, I looked back. Tyler was close behind. The security guard stood at the top of the staircase, her hands on her hips, a very concerned look on her face. “Keep moving,” Pyrrha whispered to me, tugging on my arm. We joined the other patrons who were heading toward the exit. No alarms had gone off. We were almost there.

But wait. This had been too easy. Tyler said there were always three obstacles. I'd slipped into the maintenance room and slipped out, undetected. Was our quest complete, or would something else stand in our way?

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I charged outside. This was undeniably the most stress I'd felt in a long time. I was holding a vial of magic in my left hand but the thing that amazed me the most was the fact that my nose wasn't bleeding. Not even a tingle. I could barely believe it. My body wasn't freaking out on me. It was a moment, like when I took my first step, or when I swam across the
swimming pool for the first time.

Jax wasn't waiting for us on the steps, but that didn't worry me because the original plan had been to meet at the car. We broke into a run, Tyler in the lead. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Ricardo. But the coast looked clear.

We were all panting by the time we reached the car. “You got it?” Tyler asked. I opened my palm, revealing the little urn. Pyrrha was about to reach for it, when Tyler asked, “Where's Jax?”

I closed my fingers. Jax should have been here. She should have been waiting.

The last few tourists streamed out of the museum's entryway, but not a single girl with frizzy black hair and a purple jacket was among them. Tyler pulled out his phone. No answer. Then I pulled out mine and pressed her number. No answer.

A terrible sensation washed over me. I knew something was wrong. It was one of those unscientific moments that Jax was always talking about—it was a
feeling.
My legs got heavy. All the sounds around me—the thrum of traffic, the chatter of people—disappeared.

Was this the second obstacle?

Then the phone rang.

Tyler grabbed it and pressed the speaker button.

“Hello, Tyler. Hello, Ethan. Are you ready to turn over the urn of Hope?” There was no doubt who was speaking. Ricardo's voice was unmistakable and it made my blood turn cold.

“Don't give it to him!” It was Jax, but her voice was coming from the phone.

“Jax?” I cried. What was she doing with Ricardo?

“That is correct,” Ricardo said. “Jacqueline is with me. And I will keep her unless you are willing to make a trade.”

He was here, at the museum. He was here and he'd taken Jax!

Tyler, Pyrrha, and I whirled around, searching the parking lot, searching the street. Where was she? Then Pyrrha grabbed the phone. “Do not hurt her! Do you hear me, Father? Do not injure Jacqueline Malone!”

Tyler and I froze. “
Father?
” we both said.

“Pyrrha?” Ricardo's voice softened. “Is that you? What are you doing in this world? You are forbidden to be here. You are breaking Zeus's law.”

Tyler and I looked equally shocked, our eyes wide, our mouths hanging open. Ricardo and Epimetheus were the same person? Ricardo was an alias? We
watched and listened as the story unfolded before us.

“I came to save you, Father.” Pyrrha's eyes filled with tears. “You promised Zeus that you would find the urns and destroy them. But you broke your promise. He will imprison you for eternity. I begged him to give you one last chance. That is why I am here. If we return the urns, and they are destroyed, once and for all, you will be forgiven. But if you do not return . . .” She cringed. “Please, Father, stop this madness. Zeus has Hope and—”

“You returned Hope?”

“Yes. And I will return Love and Faith. And then we can be a family again. Please, Father, come home with me. Mother misses you. The gods will forgive.”

“The gods never forgive. They cannot be trusted. Why would I go back to a world where I have no power, when this world offers me wealth and glory beyond measure? Come to me, my darling daughter, and together, we will rule this world.”

Tears streamed down Pyrrha's cheek. Her father was a monster and she was trying to save him. But the monster had Jax.

Tyler grabbed the phone. “Listen to me, you're wasting your time. You can't rule the world. It never works. It always ends the exact same way. Don't you read comic books?”

“Let Jax go!” I yelled into the speaker. “If you let her go, we'll give you the urn.”

“Please, Father, don't hurt her. Jax is my friend.”

“Give up your quest, Pyrrha, and she will not be hurt.” Then the phone beeped. The call had ended.

Tyler pressed
Redial
over and over, but the call wouldn't connect. “If he hurts Jax . . .” His eyes flashed as his temper boiled to the surface. “He'll wish he'd never been born! We'll blitz him on social media, we'll hack into his accounts, we'll steal his identity! We'll prove that the keyboard is mightier than the sword!”

I clenched my fists. My eyes also filled with tears, but they were angry tears and they stung. “We have to call the police,” I told Tyler. “We have to call Mom and Dad!”

“No.” Pyrrha wrapped both her hands around Tyler's hand, which was still clutching the phone. “If you want Jax to be safe, you must do what I tell you.” She looked beseechingly into his eyes. “Please, Tyler, please listen to me.”

He went quiet all of a sudden. Pyrrha's elixir had made Tyler happy, but her voice seemed to work in a different way. “I'm listening.”

“You and Ethan must deliver the urn of Love to Zeus. Immediately.”

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. “Huh?”

“Take my leather bag and go to the portal.”

“You want us to . . . ?” I could barely speak. “But . . .”

“The bag is the key. Tell Poseidon you have the urn. He will allow you passage.”

“Oh wow,” Tyler said, his face going ghostly white. “Are you serious? We're going into the Realm of the Gods? I need to sit down.” He leaned against the car. “I can't believe this is happening.”

“No way!” I said. “We should call Homeland Security, or the National Guard, or . . .” But even as I said this, I knew it was futile. Ricardo could open the urn of Faith and turn an entire army into mindless followers in a matter of seconds.

“Listen to me, Ethan.” Pyrrha gripped my shoulders. “My father is infected with madness. No one in your world can stop him. But he does not know that we have found the urn of Love, so there is still a chance for us to be successful. But in order for us to keep Jax safe and to get the urn of Faith, I must go to him. In the meantime, you must deliver Love to Zeus.”

“But Jax?” I asked.

“I will protect her.” She hugged me. Then she turned to Tyler. “This is what you have long dreamed
about. You have prepared your whole life for this quest. Deliver Love and you will be my hero.” She kissed his cheek.

I'd never seen that particular expression on my brother's face. He looked seasick and happy at the same time.

Then, before we could say another word, before I could offer one more reason why this was the craziest plan in the history of plans, she ran from the parking lot. That's when I saw the black limousine. It slowed for a moment, only long enough for Pyrrha to climb into the front passenger seat. I saw the brim of Ricardo's fedora. Without a wave or even a glance, Pyrrha closed the door. The limo drove away.

My heart sank. I could see the outline of a face pressed against the tinted back window. I couldn't see her expression, but I guessed she was scared.

I looked at the red urn. So small, so unobtrusive, yet capable of draining love from someone's soul. Love is an odd thing—sometimes you don't notice it until you're faced with losing it.

“Jax,” I whispered.

We try to express love with words, with greeting cards and gifts. But the best way to express it is through action. I turned to Tyler. “What do we do now?”

Tyler snapped out of his daze. He pulled his car keys from his pocket and yanked open the driver's door. “We do what all heroes do before setting out on a quest. We assemble a team and then we go to battle.”

REPORT #572B, FILED BY: Tyler Hoche, Team Captain

MISSION: Quest to Return Urn of Love to Zeus, Rescue Jax Malone from an Insane Criminal, and Save the World!

TEAM MEMBERS: Ethan Hoche, Promoted from Technical Officer to 2nd in Command

TIME: Now

LOCATION: Boston, MA

. . . to be continued.

H
uge thanks to Phoebe Segal, PhD, who is the Mary Bryce Comstock Assistant Curator of Greek and Roman Art at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. She very nicely answered my questions about the facility and the marble head of Aphrodite, known as the Bartlett Head. If you go to the museum, be sure to look for this lovely piece of art, but do not attempt to steal it! It no longer contains the urn of Love.

Thanks also to Melissa Miller, Claudia Gabel, Katherine Tegen, and the entire team at HarperCollins Publishers. I wrote this entire novel from my yacht, and they never complained about the waterlogged pages or the flecks of seagull poop.

Before becoming an author,
WHITAKER RINGWALD
was certified as the World's Greatest Snowball Maker and developed a nonstick peanut butter formula in conjunction with lauded Ig Nobel scientists. Whitaker spends six months of every year in a deep sea submersible trying to film live footage of giant squids. But giant squids are hard to come by, so that's where Whitaker gets a lot of writing done.

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Cover art © 2015 by Erwin Madrid

Cover design by Joel Tippie

Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

THE SECRET CIPHER
. Copyright © 2015 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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ISBN 978-0-06-221617-5

EPub Edition © January 2015 ISBN 9780062216199

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