“Perfect,” said Darrell.
After some minutes of quiet work, in which they all searched for anything that might connect to the scytale message, Julian sat back from the table. “First of all, there are over twenty monasteries in Athos. Some are like fortresses built on cliffs over the ocean. You have to climb these endless narrow stairs cut into the rocks. But it makes me wonder if Copernicus ever visited Greece. I mean, how did he meet the Athos Greek?”
Lily did quick word searches through the several biographies on the tablet. “Copernicus traveled, but it doesn’t look like he ever visited Greece. At least I can’t find any journey recorded in these books. So we’re back to square zero.”
“I think you mean square one,” said Wade. “But they’re pretty close together.”
“Um, yeah, until me,” said Darrell inexplicably. “It scrambles my brain, but I think I found something. It’s from a Greek book called something like Holy Monks of Athos. The translation is rough, but listen to this.”
He cleared his throat and read the words on the computer. “‘One big monks Athos be Maximus, living 1475 until 1556 when he became no longer.”
Wade stared at him. “Which I think means . . . the same time as Copernicus.”
“I think so, too,” Darrell said. “Now . . . ‘unlike monk brothers of his, Maximus studied far Italy, Padua, when 1502 came round.’” He grinned. “Nice style, huh?”
“Padua,” said Becca. “We know Copernicus was in Bologna . . . Lily?”
Lily scanned the indexes again. “Yep. He was a student at the University of Padua from 1501 to 1502.”
Becca looked up from the diary and grinned. “Darrell, it proves what you said.”
“Probably. What are we talking about?”
“That everybody knew everybody back then. The world had lots fewer people, and they all gathered in the same places.”
Darrell nodded. “I did say that. So, yes, I am right. Plus, Italy, right? Everybody went there because of the weather.”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” said Julian. “The land of snow and endless night doesn’t sound like either Italy or Greece. Something more northern, maybe . . .”
Darrell squinted at the screen. “‘Maximus can be known as Greek Maxim or Maxim Grek or Maximus Grekus or Grekus Maximus.’”
“Huh,” said Lily. “Greek Maxim. I get it.”
“You do?” asked Wade.
“Sure, I mean, I ask myself why they would call him Greek Maxim, right?” They shook their heads. “Well, think about it. Would you call a Greek a Greek when he’s in Greece? No, you wouldn’t, because they’re all Greek in Greece. So . . . anyone—”
“Ooh!” Becca said. “They called him ‘the Greek’ when he lived in another country!”
“A country with snow?” asked Julian. “Darrell, what does the book say?”
Darrell squinted at the screen. “Um, yeah. Lots of snow. The endless kind . . .”
“Norway!” said Wade. “No! Iceland!”
“Russia, my friends,” Darrell said, pleased with himself. “At least I think that’s what this says. Listen. ‘Come later Maxim was by Russia Duke Vasily the Three invited Moscow to. There he Russian make of Greek into Russian word pages.’”
“That makes sense,” said Becca. “They wanted Maxim to translate Greek stuff into Russian because the Greeks probably had all kinds of books they didn’t have in Russia.”
Darrell grumbled. “Which is exactly what I said.”
“When did Maxim go to Russia?” asked Wade.
“If you’ll let me continue—”
“It’s hard to listen to,” said Wade.
“So are you.” Darrell cleared his throat and started up. “It says . . . 1515. Exactly when we need him to be in the land of endless snow. I totally bet Maxim Grek is the second Guardian.”
Becca stood. “Darrell, this is huge. I think maybe you did it—”
“Russia is huge, too.” Lily pushed a map to the middle of the table. “Look at it. Where do we even begin?”
“Wait. There’s more.” Darrell scanned another page of the book. “‘His life problems came big in Russia. Duke Vasily make him prison for Maxim when Maxim say Duke no marry.’ Which means that after going to Russia things turned pretty rough for Maxim. Vasily threw him in jail because Maxim didn’t like him marrying some lady.”
“As opposed to who?” asked Becca.
Darrell scanned the text. “His wife.”
“Oh.”
Julian stood and paced the length of the table. “Did Maxim die in Russia? If he did, the relic may still be there. Besides that, sometimes people do important things on their deathbeds. Like the Frombork Protocol, right? Maybe before he died, Maxim left a clue about where he hid the relic.”
Darrell stood away from the computer. “I anymore read cannot. Eyes of me blur big. Anyone . . . ?”
“I’ll do it,” said Lily. She slid over to the computer and read the screen for a few seconds. “Oh, and double oh. It says . . . ‘Duke Vasily many had of alliances. One of with’ . . . ack! Guess who?”
“The pope,” said Darrell. “Napoleon. Dracula! Final answer!”
She shook her head. “The Demon Master, AVH himself!”
“Seriously?” said Wade. “Duke Vasily’s ally was Albrecht von Hohenzollern?”
“‘Albrecht of Hohenzollern Prussia,’” Lily read. “The one and only Grand Master of the creepy Knights of the Teutonic Order, and the creepy nemesis of Copernicus!”
The reading room went quiet.
Becca closed the diary, unable to read anymore. “So . . . Copernicus meets Maxim Grek in Padua when they’re students. Later, when he has to hide the relics, he remembers his college friend, who is now in Russia, where Maxim quickly becomes the enemy of Vasily and Albrecht at the same time. Maxim Grek is very possibly our Guardian!”
Lily smiled. “And because the first will circle to the last, Copernicus leaves the clue in Magellan’s dagger, which we only found when Becca cracked it—saving my life. In other words, you’re welcome.”
Darrell eased back to the computer. “It goes on . . . ‘War plenty. Maxim prison was after and after for his life. Last years in Saint Sergius monastery inside out of Muscovy. Only after Maxim die is he buried. This can be 1556!’” Darrell blinked. “To translate the translation, Maxim was jailed in one monastery after another and finally spent his last years in a place called Saint Sergius, a monastery ‘inside out of Muscovy.’ He never made it back to Greece. They buried him in the monastery after he died.”
“Here’s Saint Sergius.” Julian turned a large photographic book around. Spread across two pages was a picture of the massive Saint Sergius monastery. It was an enormous and opulent fortress. Towering over its high white stone walls were dozens of plump domes painted brilliant gold or deep blue and flecked all over with silver stars.
“Can you imagine how many places you could hide a relic there?” asked Lily. “Seriously, it makes sense to start at the end of his life and work backward. It’s how we zeroed in on Magellan.”
Which Becca realized for the first time was true, as it had been for Uncle Henry, too. It was at the end of his life that he had passed the secret on to them.
“Man, I wish I was going with you,” said Julian.
“Going with us?” Wade asked. “To Russia? Are we seriously thinking the relic is in Russia?”
“Go to where he died. That’s where I would begin,” Darrell said. “Russia. The monastery at Saint Sergius. For which, by the way, you’re welcome.”
“All right, then,” said Wade. “It would be totally amazing if we think we’ve already figured out who the Guardian might be. But I’m getting nowhere on what the double-eyed relic is—”
Julian’s cell phone buzzed. He swiped it on and answered it. He nodded once, ended the call, and stood up. “We have to go right now.”
“Did the Order find us?” said Darrell. “Are they here? Why do we have to leave?”
“F
or brunch,” Julian said. “Our dads are meeting us in half an hour!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
As a precaution, Lily, Julian, and a guard left the Morgan from the old entrance on Thirty-Sixth Street, while Wade, Becca, Darrell, and another guard exited the brownstone through a pair of glass doors at 24 East Thirty-Seventh Street. They met one another a block east of the museum, on Park Avenue, where a brown four-door Honda sedan was idling at the curb. Dennis, the Ackroyds’ driver, sat behind the wheel. He smiled and unlocked the doors, the kids climbed in, and the two guards trotted back to the museum.
“Dennis, how are you feeling this morning?” Julian asked.
“Fine today,” he said. “Where to?”
“The Water Club.”
“I hope they have food, too,” said Darrell.
Wade laughed. Darrell was feeling good. They all were. In a couple of short hours, they had gained a solid idea of who the second Guardian was. That was real progress.
Ten minutes later, after zigzagging from block to block across streets and down avenues, they arrived at a broad, low restaurant overlooking the river. Julian thanked Dennis, who drove off to park nearby.
“Your father will arrive in . . . seventeen minutes,” said a man at the desk, checking his watch. “Your table is ready for you now.”
The dining room smelled deliciously of hot coffee, fried eggs, bacon, and pastries, and Wade’s stomach wanted all of them. They crossed the floor to a large round table by a wide bank of windows. Snowflakes, heavier now, were falling gently and dissolving into the river outside.
Becca took a seat next to him. “What’s this river?”
“The East River,” said Julian. “You can just make out the Williamsburg Bridge.”
“Oh.” She shivered. “Better to look at it than be on it.”
As soon as they were all seated, Wade drew the star chart from his backpack and unfolded it. “The constellation is here, somewhere,” he murmured. “The double-eyed beast has got to be one of Ptolemy’s original forty-eight constellations. But which one?”
“There are a dozen or so ‘beasts,’” Lily said, making air quotes around the last word. “And I’m including dogs, birds, Hydras, dragons, and bears.”
Wade nodded. “But some are profiles. Not all of them have both eyes visible.” As he looked at his antique sky map, Wade imagined Uncle Henry’s kind, old face, and he felt something shut off in his brain. The table, the windows, the snow vanishing into the river, even Becca and the others around him, seemed to fade into the background. His talent for blocking out noises and distractions—so tested lately—came forward.
He mentally ticked off the constellations that couldn’t for an instant be considered “double-eyed.” That still left a number of water creatures, centaurs, a lion, bears, a dragon, a horse, and more. Studying the golden and silver constellations, he remembered what his father had taught him about stars, and a small thought entered his mind.
Could double-eyed refer to the astronomical phenomenon known as a double star? “Huh . . .”
“Huh, what?” asked Lily.
“Well, maybe Copernicus meant that there’s a double star in the constellation’s head.”
“What’s a double star?” Darrell asked. “And don’t say two stars.”
Wade laughed. “Well, they kind of are two stars—”
“I asked you not to—”
“Which is why I did. A double star is really where two stars are so close together that they sometimes appear like one really bright star. It’s only when you observe them for a long time that you discover that there are two of them. Lily, can you cross-check double stars against Ptolemy’s forty-eight constellations?”
“Smart,” she said, her fingers already moving over the tablet’s screen, “for a non–intelligence officer, that is. I’m searching, searching, and . . . oh.”
“You found something already?” asked Julian.
“Actually, no. There are a ton of double stars in the constellations and a bunch where the eyes could be.”
Darrell leaned over Wade’s notebook. “Well, then, what about this ‘unbound’ beast? What does that even mean? A wild beast? A beast out of control?”
“Right,” said Julian. “Or maybe it’s loose somehow? Not together—”
“You mean like Wade?” said Darrell.
“Good one,” said Julian. “I mean like in a bunch of different parts? Is there a constellation, one constellation, in more than one part? That also has a double star in its head?”
Wade studied the star chart carefully before ruling out one constellation after another. Then he stopped, shaking his head. He ran through the constellations a second time. He felt a smile coming on that he couldn’t hide. “You got it, Julian. There is one constellation that has two stars in its head, and it is in two separate parts,” he said. “Just one . . .”
They waited.
“Wade. Seriously,” said Becca.
“And they call the name of that constellation . . .”
Lily narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell. Us.”
“Serpens,” he said, tapping the chart directly on the constellation appearing in the northern sky. “Serpens. Which stands for—”
“The Serpent, yeah,” Darrell said. “We figured it out. Let’s go find it.”
“Except . . . look at it,” said Wade. “The Serpens constellation really is in two parts. In the west is the serpent head and in the east is the body. In between is the figure of the guy who’s wrestling it—Ophiuchus—and he’s got his own other constellation. Serpens is actually divided into two parts. It’s odd that way.”
“You’re odd that way,” Darrell said, squinting over the chart.
“I get it from you,” Wade said. “I’m just hoping the relic isn’t in two pieces, each one hidden in a different place.”
“We’ll still find it,” Darrell said. “Both of it.”
Wade was wondering what it might really mean if the relic was split and hidden in two places when his father and Terence Ackroyd entered the restaurant. They both wore cautious smiles.
“Paul Ferrere is already on his way back to Paris, certain that Sara is in Europe, probably southern Europe,” said Terence. “All other destinations for the two jets have been ruled out, and the detectives are paying particular attention to Madrid’s several municipal and private airfields.”
“Which is very good,” Wade’s father added. “Their extensive team of investigators is fanning out across the continent.”
“Really good!” said Darrell. “This is soooo good!”
“From this moment on, I will be the go-between for the detectives and you,” Terence said. “Now, what did you learn at the Morgan?”
“Maxim Grek.”
“Serpens.”
“Russia.”
That’s what Wade and the others told his father and Terence. Both men countered their arguments here and there, and the kids countered back. This went on during their three-course brunch, until both men agreed that, given the evidence, they were very likely on the right track.
“Russia,” Roald said finally. “As soon as Galina finds out, and she will find out, she’ll bring Sara to Russia, too. If we have no other leads, then Russia is a start. Don’t travel visas take several days to get?”
Julian glanced at his father. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Comrade Boris?”
Terence seemed strangely reluctant, then nodded. “I think so, yes. There is a man. A Russian fellow. His name is Boris Volkov. He’s lived in London for the past few years. I think you should fly there first and see him. He can likely be of help to you.”
“Likely?” said Becca.
“Volkov is a scholar of languages and a historian of Russia’s medieval period,” Terence said. “I met him when I was writing a book about the treasure the Crusaders brought back from the Middle East. He knows a lot about the Order, perhaps the Guardians, too. Whether he is an agent of one or the other, I can’t say. He’s quite cagey about wha
t he reveals. But he may be able to help you get into Russia quickly and aid you while you’re there. Boris Volkov seems to have . . . connections.”
“Well, we can’t afford—” Wade’s father began.
Terence waved his hand to stop him. “Think no more about that. I told you, my resources are yours. Since you don’t have the authorities on your side, the Ackroyd Foundation will bankroll your continued travels. I’ll do everything in my power to help you get Sara back safely and find the relic.”
“Awesome,” said Lily, smiling at both Ackroyds. “Thank you, again.”
Wade’s father took a breath, then raised his eyes to the two girls. “There’s . . . something else,” he said. “Becca, I called your mother this morning, and Lily, your dad, about you going home or going on. You both need to call your parents, not at home, but on their cell phones.”
Becca’s face fell. “What is it? Oh, I should have answered when I got the call last night. I didn’t want to. What’s happening—”
Roald held up his hands. “Everyone is fine, they’re fine, and in fact Paul Ferrere has already alerted his people in Austin. But there was an incident at Maggie’s school the other day, and Lily, your father was followed home from work. Nothing happened, nothing at all, but as of this morning, both of your families have been relocated temporarily.”
Lily held one hand over her mouth as she dug furiously for her phone.
Becca did the same. “Maggie, Maggie, I should have answered!”
For the next few minutes, both girls were sitting at different tables, glued to their cell phones, deep in conversation with their parents, while Terence filled in the details.
“The stinking Order,” Darrell grumbled.
“Dad—” Wade started.
“I already talked to your mother,” his father said, assuring him. “She’s fine and traveling in Mexico. She doesn’t appear to be on their radar at all.”
A weight had been lifted, but Wade realized it had been days since he had spoken with her. “I’ll call her right after this.”