Return Fire

by Christina Diaz Gonzalez

  I flipped through the brochure. On the back page, I found a basic layout of the gallery with descriptions of what could be seen in each room. The only one we were interested in had a star by the name Caravaggio and was on the floor right above us.

  About two minutes later, Simone came over and handed us tickets. “I don’t think anyone is checking if we have tickets, but just in case.”

  “It’s right upstairs. Let’s go.” I raced over to the marble staircase.

  We passed several ornate rooms, each one painted a different color, but none held the painting. Finally, we came to a light blue room at the end of the breezeway. From its ceiling hung a large, elaborate chandelier, and delicate stucco along the walls reminded me of fancy icing on a cake. Against the far wall, behind a glass barrier about three feet tall, was a single piece of art: Caravaggio’s The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula.

  Even though the painting was the key feature of the museum, the room itself was empty. The tour group that had come in before us was still busy with other exhibits. We approached the painting, staying behind the barrier in case there was some sort of alarm.

  “Are we sure this painting is what the code was talking about?” Simone asked. “Because I don’t see anything particularly impressive.”

  Simone was wrong. The painting itself was impressive. The technique Caravaggio used with shadows and light made it a masterpiece. Saint Ursula was touching the arrow protruding from her chest, her skin a ghostly white because she had just lost her life.

  “Look.” Asher pointed to the top right corner of the masterpiece. “See the man behind Saint Ursula? That’s a self-portrait of Caravaggio. And check out what he’s holding.”

  “Is that a … spear?” Simone’s voice was full of amazement.

  “Yep.” Asher nodded. “I bet it’s a way of telling us that the cipher is here. The question is where? The end of the riddle said that the cipher key was ‘outstretched and present, reaching out from the darkness, for all to behold and none to understand.’ So, what do we see that others looking at this painting would take for granted?”

  “What you just pointed to … the spear.” Simone leaned closer. “Most people wouldn’t know it’s a reference to the Spear of Destiny.”

  “Maybe.” Asher stared at the painting. “But I feel like we’re missing something.”

  “Wait a minute. Look what it says here in the description of the painting.” I read from a small plaque attached to the wall. “The painting was restored in 2004, and that’s when they discovered the hand in the middle. Someone had painted over it. It had been covered up for centuries.” I stared at the outstretched hand that seemed to come straight at me. It didn’t seem to belong to anyone in the painting.

  “It’s like a ghost hand.” Simone tilted her head to get a different perspective. “Just popping out from the shadows.”

  “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “The code said it was reaching out from the darkness for all to behold and none to understand!”

  “Okay, the code’s right: I don’t understand. Now what?” Simone stared at me, but I didn’t have any more answers.

  I turned to Asher, who stared intently at the painting. “Asher? You haven’t said anything. Don’t you think it’s got something to do with the hand?”

  “Maybe.” He seemed lost in thought. “I don’t know. The only thing I can come up with is that the hand has the fingers outstretched, almost like it’s showing us the number five. That might mean something.”

  “Sooo? Didn’t you study all sorts of medieval codes? What do you think it means?” Simone asked.

  “Maybe it’s referencing every fifth word or every fifth letter in the words that we already figured out.” Asher peeled his eyes away from the painting and pulled out the journal with the receipts where we had written the letters. “Or it could be a shift cipher.”

  “What’s a shift cipher?” Simone squinted as she continued staring at the painting.

  “A way to break a code. It just means all the letters shift over a certain number of spots. Like an A would shift over five spots to become the letter F.”

  Asher sat on a bench in the middle of the room, took out a pen, and began playing around with the words that had led us to the painting, then shook his head. “This isn’t working.”

  “The journal … it’s in two parts,” I said, realizing where the clue could be hidden. “What is seen and unseen.”

  “What are you talking about, Cassie?” Simone asked.

  “It’s not in the words that we already figured out … It’s in the remaining letters,” I said. “The shift cipher might decipher the ones that were left over after we solved the first code.” I sat next to Asher. “See if that works.”

  From the breezeway, voices could be heard outside the room. “Pièce de résistance,” someone said in French. Then the room filled up with the tour group. They all crowded around the Caravaggio, snapping cell-phone pictures and ignoring the three of us sitting on the bench.

  Asher glanced at the group, then went back to the code. Letter by letter, he worked his way through the journal entry, slowly writing out a message.

  After the first few words revealed the phrase “To release destiny,” Asher smiled. “You were right, Cassie. This is it,” he whispered. “I can’t believe it worked. This is huge. We may be about to free the entire world’s future.”

  “Well, let’s think it through first,” I said. “Not rush into anything.”

  Asher stopped writing to look at me. “Don’t you think that it’s important for people to have the freedom to make their own decisions and live with the consequences? Good or bad?”

  “I’m not sure.” It was the truth of what I’d been thinking for a while. Maybe with some training, I could help the world be a better place. Then again, maybe no one deserved that responsibility.

  Asher shook his head and continued.

  The scramble of letters soon became a complete message.

  To release destiny back to the world, the Realm must be permanently filled by having the one who enters die in selfless sacrifice while inside the Realm.

  I read the message again, as if the words would change with a second reading.

  They didn’t.

  Tobias had been right. A death was required to release destiny.

  Mine.

  This wasn’t what I expected. I wasn’t even sure if releasing destiny was a good idea, and now I was supposed to die for it?

  “Does that mean … ?” Simone looked at me, then Asher.

  Asher nodded.

  “NO!” she shouted, causing a few of the museum visitors to turn their heads. “It can’t be,” she said in a much lower voice. “Cassie cannot die.”

  Asher stared at the paper, not saying anything.

  “Maybe we’re missing something … another piece of the puzzle,” I suggested.

  “There aren’t any more pieces,” Asher replied, his tone very solemn. He folded up the paper, put it inside the journal, and stuffed it all in his backpack. “What’s written is pretty clear. I guess Tobias was onto something after all.”

  “I don’t want to die,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  Asher gazed at me. “I don’t want that, either,” he replied. “Don’t forget that my life is bound to yours.”

  I had forgotten. As my Guardian, if I died, so did he.

  “Maybe my dad or Dame Elisabeth can help us with this. They may know a different way.”

  “So we keep heading to Rome?” Simone asked. “What if they’re not there?”

  I stared at Asher’s backpack. I had found my dad once before by using the spear. I could do it again. “We could find out for sure if …”

  Asher followed my gaze. “No. You’re not going to use it again. You haven’t been trained. Look what happened last time. Things could get out of hand, and I wouldn’t be able to pull you out.”

  “It’ll only be for a minute.” I reached for the backpack, unable to stop myself now that I’d gotten the ide
a. My hand seemed drawn to the spear like a fish being reeled in. “I’ll see where my dad is and get out. I won’t change anything. Promise.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Asher snatched the bag back. “We’ll find him some other way.”

  “With the Hastati and Simone’s mom after us? I don’t think so.” My blood raced with excitement at the thought of using the spear again. “There may not be much time left. This will speed everything up.”

  The leader of the tour group stood outside the archway of the room, directing everyone to follow her to the next exhibit.

  “We shouldn’t mess around with the spear. We don’t know enough about it,” Asher argued, his voice low as the last of the tourists meandered out of the room, taking a few selfies before leaving. “My uncle didn’t complete my training. There are lots of things I don’t know how to do.”

  “I know I can do this,” I said.

  “Cassie’s right. Mr. Arroyo may be the only one we can trust to help figure this all out.” Simone stood. “I’ll keep a lookout in case anyone comes back this way. But you have to be quick about it.”

  I wrestled the bag out of Asher’s hands. He knew it was the best solution and didn’t fight me this time. I unzipped the bag. My fingertips tingled with a flood of energy, and I could feel myself quivering on the inside. The spear seemed to be calling out to me, begging for me to go into the Realm, and I was about to give in to that yearning.

  Asher held my arm back, preventing me from reaching into the bag. “Just don’t stay in the Realm any longer than you have to. Got it?”

  “Uh-huh.” I thrust my hand into the bag and wrapped my fingers around the spearhead.

  Instantly, I felt the now familiar pull into a vast nothingness. Concentrate on Papi, I told myself. Find Felipe Arroyo.

  It felt like a merry-go-round spinning so fast that I couldn’t see anything except blurs of colors. Then it stopped, and I saw my father riding in a car with Dame Elisabeth. They were travelling down a road, but I couldn’t tell where they were. I tried to figure it out by looking for something recognizable around them, but nothing came into focus.

  Maybe I can skip ahead a little into the future and see where they’re going, I thought. I wouldn’t be changing anything.

  I pushed myself forward on the same current of energy.

  Another image came. Rome. I could see the Vatican’s dome in the distance. I knew that place. It was in the garden at the Knights of Malta compound. That’s where they were headed.

  “Hurry.” I heard Asher’s muffled voice in the distance.

  I was about to head back toward him when the image before me shifted again. In the far distance, like a movie screen at the end of a long dark tunnel, I saw the men in hazmat suits.

  It’ll only take a few extra moments, I said to myself.

  “Cassie, get out,” I heard Asher say. “Right now!”

  I would have to return later. I pushed myself back, kicking against the strong current that threatened to trap me in place.

  I latched onto Asher’s voice as if it were a hand reaching into the Realm.

  I opened my eyes.

  Asher was sitting next to me, his breath coming in and out in short bursts.

  “What were you doing?” he asked. “I thought you were going to be quick.”

  “I was.” The amount of energy surging through my body left my hands shaking. “I couldn’t tell where he was and had to dip in a little farther to get a glimpse of the future. To see where he was headed.”

  Simone glanced back from the archway. “So, where is he going?”

  “Knights of Malta compound,” I answered, taking a deep breath to calm myself. “Just like we thought. But I don’t know how to reach him without getting caught.”

  Asher rubbed his hands together and then shook each one out. “We need to figure out a better way for me to get you out of the Realm. It feels like a million volts of electricity just ran through me.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, realizing that my delay in getting out had physically hurt him.

  “The tour group is leaving,” Simone said, sticking her head out into the breezeway. “We might want to go out with them.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I looked at Asher, aware that as invigorated as the spear made me feel, it had the opposite effect on him. “Are you okay to go, or do you need a couple of minutes?”

  He shook out his hands. “I’m fine. It wasn’t too bad this time.”

  “They’re headed toward the stairs.” Simone waved us over. “Come on.”

  The three of us left the room and blended in with the last of the tourist group.

  As we went down the grand marble staircase, I noticed that several paintings had been placed on easels around the stage downstairs. One of them made me stop in my tracks. The face in the painting, I recognized it. It was the woman from the church. The one who had emerged from the shadows and given me the glass flame.

  Without thinking, I separated myself from the group and approached the stage to get a closer look. A sign nearby indicated it was all part of a collection of art by Bernardo Mei, circa 1667, on loan from other museums. But how could that be?

  I stared at the painting. There she was, all dressed in purple holding a pair of scissors. And the woman to her left … I blinked twice. Was that a young version of Signora Pescatori, the blind woman who had given Asher my mother’s jewelry box a few days ago? Was I now seeing things?

  “Cassie,” Simone whispered, pulling me by my elbow. “What are you doing? We have to go.”

  “Look,” I said, pointing to the woman wrapped in a purple dress.

  Simone dropped her hand from my arm. “Isn’t that the woman from the church with the skulls?”

  A small gold plaque under the painting described it as Alexander the Great and the Fates. I glanced up at the third woman in the painting. She looked vaguely familiar. Could she have been the gypsy I’d met back at the subway station when Simone and I were first being chased? The one who had acted so strangely when she saw me and who warned me that choices determine destiny?

  “Do you think … ?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to say it aloud. “And doesn’t the one next to her look like Signora Pescatori?”

  Simone shook her head, refusing to go along with my idea. “It can’t be. That would make them the Three Fates. They’re not real. It’s just a myth.”

  “Kind of like what some people think about the spear,” I said.

  Before Simone could respond, Asher’s hand jerked me away from Simone and the stage. “We have to leave,” he whispered, pulling me toward the wall closest to the marble staircase. “The half-eared man is here. The one that works for Simone’s mother.”

  A chill ran down my spine. The last time I’d seen the half-eared man was in the hospital room where he’d tied me up and left us with my unconscious father. He was someone who didn’t think twice about hurting or killing someone. How had he found us?

  “Are you sure?” Simone asked as Asher ushered the two of us toward the front door, all the while staying close to the wall.

  Asher nodded. “He was going up the stairs. I don’t think he saw us.”

  In that instant, the half-eared man darted out of one of the upstairs rooms, and our eyes locked. His expression went from surprise to anger, and he started back toward the stairs.

  There was only one thing to do.

  “RUN!” I yelled, taking off toward the front door, where the tour group had congregated.

  We pushed our way out past the bank guard into a crowd of shoppers wandering along Via Toledo.

  “Which way?” Simone called.

  I looked right, then left, but I had no idea which way was best. I’d just have to take a chance. “Come on!” I darted to the right, weaving around several people and rounding the corner—only to see two large men in suits waiting for us.

  I stopped short, and Simone and Asher crashed into me. One of the large, muscular men grabbed me and the other grabbed Asher.

&
nbsp; “Let them go!” Simone screamed, yanking on the man’s hulking arm.

  “Quiet now, Miss Simone,” said a voice from behind me.

  I squirmed and turned in time to catch a glimpse of the half-eared man. He was squeezing Simone by the elbow and pulling her away.

  “Knock them out,” he ordered.

  A handkerchief covered my mouth and nose. I fought against the man who was holding on to me. I glanced at Asher. He was kicking and doing everything he could to get out of the clutches of the man who had him.

  Everything grew very foggy.

  No, no, I thought. This is the fog I saw in my vision.

  I tried to look for Simone, but it was the half-eared man’s face that I saw just before a pillowcase was slipped over my head.

  My legs swung from side to side. My head jostled as I came into contact with the ground. Someone had been carrying me and was now setting me down on a cool floor. I opened my eyes, but saw only darkness. The pillowcase was still covering my head.

  “Be careful with her!” said a nearby voice. It sounded like it might be Tobias, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Yes, sir,” another voice responded.

  I tried moving my hands, but quickly realized that they were tied together behind my back.

  “Sarah will be here shortly.” It was Tobias speaking, I was certain now. “Go ahead and take those pillowcases off them.”

  “Sir, I don’t think that’s—”

  “Take it off, I said. I don’t even know why you put it on them. They’ve already been here and seen me.”

  The pillowcase was pulled off my head.

  I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light. Asher lay next to me on the floor. The half-eared man yanked off his pillowcase, but his eyes were still closed and his mouth was taped. I lifted my head off the floor and saw that we were back inside Simone’s mother’s bedroom. The situation felt eerily similar to when the half-eared man had tied us up in my father’s hospital room.

  “Look who’s awake already,” the half-eared man sneered. He crouched down in front of me, his cigarette-laced breath smothering me.