Addison’s team retreated into the crosshatched shadows of the sewer as the Collective marched right over their heads. They listened breathlessly as men angrily rattled the locked iron gate. A few angry words were barked in Russian. Nearly all the men retreated back up the stone stairs with heavy, plodding footsteps. A shadow revealed a single guard left behind.
“They’ve gone to get keys,” Addison whispered. “They’ll be back.”
“So are we stuck here?” asked Eddie, his voice quavering in the darkness.
Addison considered his options. He realized he could feel a slight draft wafting through the cramped passageway. He folded his body like origami and maneuvered past Molly. “Guys, this shaft keeps going! I think we can use it to get into the locked basement!”
“Quit pulling my leg,” Molly whispered.
“I’m telling the truth!” Addison insisted.
“No, you’re literally pulling my leg.”
They crawled along the tiny shaft until they reached an open grate that fed them into the locked basement. Their only source of light was the iron gate, behind which they could still see the shadow of the patrolling Russian guard.
Molly pointed to another rune up ahead. It adorned a rotting stairway leading down into the belly of the earth. Addison cupped a hand over his pen flashlight to dull the beam. The group crept silently down the steps.
At the bottom stood a heavy wooden door, gray with the dust of the centuries. Addison tried the handle and was not surprised to find it locked tight.
“Should I pick it?” Eddie whispered.
Addison frowned. “I wish there was a faster way. The Collective could find their way in here any minute.”
“I know how to break down a door!” Raj spoke excitedly, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “I read about it in Mission: Survival III by Babatunde Okonjo. The trick is to kick it exactly where the lock meets the doorjamb.” He pointed to the exact spot on the ancient door.
“Well, here’s the kicker,” said Addison. He pointed to Molly.
She grinned, took a running start, and leveled a brutal sidekick at the ancient door. It splintered away from the door frame, gaping open like a broken jaw.
Addison grimaced at the loud noise. They needed to move fast now. He pushed open the crumpled door and stepped into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Hidden Headquarters
ADDISON ENTERED THE SECRET basement. It was quiet down here, the noises of the crowded mosque above fading down to silence. He ducked the low foundation stones and picked his way through the rubble of Roman bricks.
Raj cranked on his military-grade flashlight, the glare temporarily blinding. “Anyone see another rune?”
“I can’t see anything,” said Eddie, covering his eyes from the brightness.
Raj panned his light slowly over the cracked and gutted stones.
“There!” said Addison, his eyes glittering in the flashlight’s aura. He dropped to his hands and knees to scramble through a crack in the rocks—a broken archway.
The group followed him into a lost part of the ancient church—a long-forgotten crypt. The ceiling here was only four feet high, the ground littered with stone tombs.
“I knew it!” said Eddie. “I knew you couldn’t go one day without visiting graves. Addison, you’re like a truffle-sniffing pig, except instead of finding mushrooms, you find dead people!”
“Eddie, it’s not as if I wake up every morning and say to myself, ‘Good morning, Addison! How can we spend today in an underground graveyard?’ Underground graveyards are just a thing that happens to me!”
“Underground graveyards don’t just ‘happen to you,’ Addison. They’re not like sneezes.” Eddie shook his head. “I have plenty of friends who’ve managed to go their whole lives without ending up in an underground graveyard.”
“Guys, take a look at this.” Molly wiped dust from the lid of a granite tomb. Carved on the surface was a shield emblazoned with a crest. Below it was written two words: “Tutor Thesauri.” “Do you realize what this means?” said Molly.
Addison surveyed the surrounding tombs, all marked with the same two words. When he spoke, his voice was hushed with awe. “These men were all Templar Knights.”
Raj was already poking around in a far corner of the room where the ceiling dropped down to a mere three feet. “Over here! I found the next rune.”
The group rushed to join Raj. He pointed with his flashlight. The sword-and-scroll rune was carved on the top of a narrow coffin.
Addison nodded. Gravely. “We have to open it.”
Eddie spread his arms in disbelief and let them collapse at his sides.
Raj gripped the lid of the coffin and hoisted it open. It yawned with spiderwebs as thick as yarn. Addison aimed his penlight into the tomb, preparing for whatever grim horror lay inside.
Instead, he saw a set of stairs leading down into the gloom. From the musty, dusty air, he knew this secret passage had not been explored for centuries.
“Ladies first,” said Molly, taking the big flashlight from Raj and climbing into the coffin. She disappeared down into the earth.
* * *
• • • • • •
Addison and Eddie followed Molly down the steep, slippery steps. Raj went last, which he insisted on calling “rear guard.”
The stairway led to a narrow shaft carved through the limestone bedrock. Addison ducked the rusted remains of a portcullis. Raj pointed out slots in the stone for hurling rocks down on intruders. At last the hallway opened into a circular room.
Raj swept the space with his high-powered flashlight. They quickly explored several small side rooms. Sleeping chambers with rotting oak planks for beds. A dining room with a single ash slab for a table. The group entered a larger room with the familiar words “Tutor Thesauri” etched in stone along one wall. Molly recognized the balance beam, the sword rack, and the practice dummies pricked full of stab wounds. “It’s just like Uncle Jasper’s training room!” she exclaimed.
Addison nodded with excitement. “This must have been a Templar headquarters.”
The circular main room was decorated with colorful mosaics. Addison recognized images of famous castles and pyramids and even the lost city of Atlantis. Molly pointed to the Cooke family crest carved over a mosaic in the corner. The mosaic depicted a king on a throne with a crown and scepter and surrounded by piles of gold.
“Who is that?” asked Raj.
Addison had learned a smattering of ancient history at the Dimpleforth School. He recognized the king’s noble bearing and his ivory throne adorned with golden lions. “King Solomon. He was the most powerful king of Israel and one of the richest people in history. But the ancient Hebrews believed he lost his faith and was punished from above. His empire split apart. His son was defeated by Egyptians. Everything Solomon built was lost.”
Eddie’s ears had pricked up at the mention of wealth. “How’d he get so rich?”
Addison was pleased to realize he knew the answer. Perhaps his time at Dimpleforth hadn’t been a total loss. “The fabled copper mines of Solomon in the deserts of southern Israel. Copper may not sound like much, but it makes bronze. And when you live in the Bronze Age, and all your tools and weapons are bronze, making bronze is a big deal.” He rapped his knuckles against the bronze tablet in Molly’s satchel for emphasis.
“Did Solomon leave a treasure?” asked Eddie hopefully.
“Did he ever. Solomon was so powerful, the kings of Arabia paid him a tribute of forty thousand pounds of gold every year. The spice merchants paid him with frankincense and myrrh. People believe Solomon’s wealth exceeded all the kings of all the world. But the greatest part of his treasure was called the Ring of Destiny.”
Addison stepped closer to the mosaic. He pointed to the dazzling ring on King Solomon’s finger that glittered and danced in the rays o
f the flashlight. “The ancients believed it was forged in heaven. It was said to give King Solomon power over angels and demons. With this ring he worked wonders from his throne. He could make fire rain down from the heavens or waters surge up from the ground. The ring is one of the greatest missing treasures in history.”
“Addison, there’s a ring on our tablet, as well . . .” Molly pulled the bronze tablet from her satchel and held it up to Raj’s flashlight. The group stared down at the strange circular symbol on the front of the tablet. A six-pointed star was inscribed inside.
Addison gazed up at the ancient mosaic and nodded. “I guess this bronze tablet is somehow connected”—he pointed from the strange bronze circle to the ring on Solomon’s finger—“to the Ring of Destiny.”
Addison’s thoughts snapped into place like Lego pieces. He paced in a tight circle like an excited Labrador who knew he was getting a walk. “Maybe it’s some sort of treasure map. King Solomon’s Temple was destroyed by King Nebuchadnezzar the Second of Babylon. Solomon’s treasure was hidden in the desert by his last remaining priests. It’s been lost for ages.”
“So how are we supposed to find it?” asked Raj eagerly. In his enthusiasm, he somehow managed to drop his military-grade flashlight on the floor. The impact emitted a metallic clang. Raj retrieved his flashlight and aimed it at the ground. “Um, guys? I think the floor is gold.”
Addison knelt down and swept the dirty floor with his palm. “Not gold, bronze. Like the tablet.” He took a deep breath and blew away a cloud of dust. “There’s something written here!” The group scraped dirt from the bronze-tiled floor with their hands and shoes.
Addison took a few steps back and stared at the floor until all of its carved shapes and lines began to come together in his mind. “It’s a map of the Crusades. These are the Holy Lands.” He pointed excitedly. “This blob is ancient Syria. And these are the cedar forests of Lebanon! And this is where Richard the Lionheart fought Saladin at the Battle of Arsuf.”
A few bronze tiles were missing from the map. Molly waved Addison over to a rectangular-shaped hole. “Addison, look! I think our tablet fits here!”
Addison squeezed the bronze tablet into the slot. It fit perfectly. Each squiggly line on its surface made sense now, joining up with the rivers and mountains of the map.
He pointed to the various mosaics adorning the room. “The treasure of Priam, the Valley of the Kings, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Guys, this room is a map of treasures the Tutores Thesauri found. Each of these missing tiles must point to a treasure. And each Templar family guards a different treasure.”
“So, the Cookes’ tablet shows the way to the Ring of Destiny . . .” Molly pointed to it on the floor. “And the ring is hidden in this square of the map.”
Addison drew out his copy of Fiddleton’s Atlas faster than an Old West gunslinger. He flipped to a map of the Middle East and compared it with the bronze floor map. “If we’re right, Solomon’s ring is somewhere near Aqaba on the Red Sea.”
“That’s a big area,” said Molly. “How do we narrow it down?”
Addison pulled the bronze tablet out of its slot and studied the ring-shaped pattern on its surface. “I don’t know yet. There’s more to this puzzle.” He knew they couldn’t lug the entire bronze floor with them, so he set to work copying the giant map into his notebook. He focused all his concentration on the page, sketching as quickly as possible.
That is how he completely missed hearing Ivan the Terrible step into the chamber . . .
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ivan the Absolute Worst
IVAN AND HIS MEN poured in quickly and silently. Raj barely managed half a barn owl hoot before they completely filled the room.
Once again, Addison was struck by Ivan’s awful appearance. He looked like he had gotten his hair cut in an accident with a lawn mower. “You look like you got your hair cut in an accident with a lawn mower,” said Addison.
Ivan surprised Addison by turning even uglier. The man’s mouth wriggled into what could loosely be described as a smirk. “I’m going to kill you for what you did to my brother. And then I will have the tablet. And soon, the ring of Solomon.”
“What do you need it for?” asked Molly. “I mean, why is Solomon’s ring more important than his gold? Wouldn’t you rather have the money?”
Ivan’s oily eyes slithered over Molly. “We need it because of the prophecy.”
“Okay, about this prophecy,” Addison began. “We have a number of questions.”
Ivan held up his hand. “All you do is talk, Addison Cooke. Talk, talk, talk. The Shadow is on his way. You can talk to him.”
“The Shadow?” asked Addison, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.
Ivan seemed to smell Addison’s fear. His leer widened. Calling it a grin would be an insult to grins everywhere. His teeth looked like half-chewed Chiclets. “Vrolok Malazar wants to see you . . . personally.”
Addison wondered why the room suddenly felt ten degrees colder. “I’m not sure I can squeeze him in on such short notice—I’m completely booked up.” His eyes darted to the corners, searching for an escape. “Rain check?”
“You’re not getting away. Malazar is a genius. He is a billionaire. He has operatives on every continent. And he runs the Collective. It will go easier for you if you just give up.”
For a moment, Addison honestly considered it. His thoughts raced up and down the hallways of his mind for any hint of a plan; they came up empty.
Ivan pulled his hands from his pockets. They were gripping push daggers. Six-inch knives glittered from between the fingers of each of his clenched fists.
Addison blanched. Things just kept getting worse. “Are you as good with knives as your brother Zubov?”
“Who do you think taught him?” Ivan twirled the daggers in his hands with astonishing skill.
Addison swallowed hard. This would be like fighting a jaguar. He flicked out the butterfly knife he had taken from Ivan’s brother in South America and assumed his fighting stance. He had learned a thing or two from Tony Chin, the Hong Kong triad whom Addison counted as a friend. And he had practiced knife drills regularly with Uncle Jasper. But when he raised his arms to square off with Ivan, he found he was suddenly drenched with nervous sweat. The shoulder pads in his blazer bunched up, and the tailored arms restricted his reach. It was too late to strip off the jacket. For the first time in his life, Addison found he was beginning to regret a fashion choice.
Ivan struck with an adder’s speed.
Addison parried with his butterfly knife, sparks flaring in the dark room. He had been practicing for months, but Ivan had been practicing for years. Addison had learned a few tricks with his knife, but he knew that his best trick by far was running away. “Guys, a little help?”
Ivan advanced, backing Addison up against a wall.
“I have just the thing,” said Raj excitedly. He grabbed a purple smoke ball from his pocket and held it high in the air. It was the size of a tennis ball and about half as intimidating. He turned to Ivan and laughed jauntily. “We’ll be seeing you later, Ivan!”
Raj pulled the fuse and threw the purple smoke ball at the ground.
It lay there.
Other than that, nothing much happened.
Ivan looked up at Raj, confused.
A single bead of sweat broke out on Raj’s forehead. He produced another purple smoke ball from the pocket of his army pants. “Adios, Ivan!” Raj yanked the fuse and hurled the new smoke ball at the ground. It lay there next to the first one, like two eggs in a robin’s nest. They produced about as much smoke as two robin’s eggs; that is to say, none.
Nothing continued to happen.
Ivan scratched his head with the point of one of his knives.
Raj found he was suddenly drenched in sweat like Addison. He decided to go for broke. He took a deep lungful of air and sh
outed his war cry, “Bhandaaari!” With both hands, Raj pulled all of the smoke balls from his pockets, yanked out the fuses with his teeth, and flung them on the ground.
They lay there. A few seconds ticked by. The earth blithely rotated on its axis. Other than that, exactly nothing happened.
Addison frowned. “Raj, I hope you saved the receipts for those. You may want your money back.”
Before Raj could respond, the room exploded in a massive mushroom cloud of purple smoke.
* * *
• • • • • •
Addison’s brain felt like a cracked egg. His ears popped and popped again. He coughed and gagged purple clouds of smoke in a purple sea. His entire world was purple. He couldn’t see his purple hand in front of his purple face. It was like waking up inside of a grape.
Through the purple mist he could hear Ivan’s men shouting and cursing in Russian.
Addison bent low and whispered in the direction he had last seen Molly, Eddie, and Raj. “Dining room! Quickly!”
He groped and fumbled his way through the purple veils until he crashed into the rotten remains of the dining table. He blinked purple smoke from his eyes and saw three purple shapes about the size of Molly, Eddie, and Raj.
“Where do we go?” croaked the gangly Eddie-shaped purple blob.
“Back door.”
“How do you know there is a back door?”
“The Templars were soldiers,” Addison whispered. “Nobody builds a fortress without a hidden rear exit. They wouldn’t let themselves get trapped down here.”
Addison—hands splayed before him like an avenging mummy—fumbled through the headquarters’ kitchen and into a storage area, filled with decayed sacks and rotted shelves of broken clay jars. The purple smoke was clearer here. He frantically lifted jars and pressed on rocks in the mortared wall, searching for any kind of hidden lever or pulley.
Addison Cooke and the Ring of Destiny Page 11