Eddie looked at him quizzically. “Are you okay, Addison?”
Addison’s eyes spread wide like rings in a pond. “I know where I’ve seen this word before.”
Molly, Raj, and Eddie crowded close, staring at the tablet glowing gold in the beam of Addison’s flashlight.
“This indecipherable word is in Latin. Only backward.” Addison drew the Templar medallion from around his neck. The five familiar words were written in Latin. But only the word for “faith” was raised: fides.
He fit the medallion into the circular depression on the bronze tablet. It clicked perfectly into place.
“Now what?” asked Eddie.
“It’s a key,” said Addison. “We turn it.” He pressed his medallion firmly into the circle and rotated it to the left. He felt the bronze ring turning and heard springs winding deep inside the tablet. Finally, he heard the snap of a latch.
And the bronze tablet folded open.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Secret of the Tablet
ADDISON OPENED THE TABLET like a book. Molly, Eddie, and Raj huddled around him, their faces illuminated by the flashlight reflecting off the gleaming bronze. It took a few seconds for the random squiggles and wavy lines before them to congeal into a pattern. Addison gasped. There was no mistaking: it was a treasure map.
The relief map was etched into the bronze; slight swells in the metal indicated hills and cliffs. A deep jagged line described the path of a riverbed. And in the center of the tablet, by a sharp bend in the river, was a six-pointed star set inside a ring.
“X marks the spot,” said Molly.
Addison flipped open his notebook and found the map of the bronze floor he had sketched inside the Templar hideout. The notebook pages were creased and wrinkled from being dunked in the cistern, but the map was still readable. He studied the missing tile in the bronze floor, and compared it with the bronze tablet before him. All of the squiggles and bumps lined up perfectly. “It fits,” said Addison excitedly. “This completes the treasure map!”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Raj, his eyes glowing. “Let’s escape this castle and find Solomon’s treasure!”
“Well,” said Addison, grinning, “I don’t see why not.”
Unfortunately for Addison, this was the exact moment that Ivan kicked in the door.
* * *
• • • • • •
The heavy oak door slammed into Raj. The impact sent him sprawling into Molly, who knocked over Addison and Eddie like a trick shot on a pool table. For a second, all four were on their backs, legs in the air like upturned beetles.
Molly pulled her trusted sling from her father’s satchel. She loaded a heavy lead slug into the pouch and started it swinging. Raj and Addison dove for cover. In the tiny room, she barely had any room to maneuver. She tried to whip the sling up to speed, but Ivan was already on her, slashing with the push daggers that sprouted between his fingers. The lead slug dropped out of Molly’s sling as she twisted and dodged.
Addison and Eddie, both running from Ivan in the tiny room, managed to knock heads. Addison dropped his flashlight. It skittered across the floor, casting a carousel of spinning shadows. This was it, Addison realized—his supply of luck was beginning to run dry.
Molly discovered that the only problem with fighting a highly skilled knifeman in the dark with nothing more than a leather sling was that it was impossible. She tried whipping her sling again and succeeded only in thwacking Raj’s leg. She realized Uncle Jasper was right: a sling wouldn’t work in close quarters.
“A sling won’t work in close quarters,” said Ivan, wearing his best approximation of a human grin.
“Thank you,” said Molly, between gritted teeth, “for pointing that out.”
Ivan gripped his daggers and dove for her.
Molly rolled out of his way. She, Addison, Eddie, and Raj dashed out of the tiny storeroom.
Addison took the liberty of slamming the door shut. He heard the lock click into place.
A split second later, Ivan began screaming and pounding against the wooden door.
“We should probably go,” Addison suggested. He hoofed it down the spiraling stairs, leading by example. He bolted over the wobbling wooden catwalks spanning the gatehouse, his arms spread wide for balance. Reaching the parapet on the far side, he floored the gas, sprinting at top speed along the battlements.
Below him in the courtyard he could see Russian gang members pointing at him and shouting. He didn’t know what they were saying, but he imagined it was not complimentary. He called over his shoulder to his friends. “We just need to make it to the rope! Remember: the fifth stone left of the gate!”
His feet flying along the stone rampart, Addison reflected on how lucky they’d been. Rarely had one of his plans been pulled off without a single hitch. And yet look at them: they’d managed to break into the castle, rescue Molly, and steal the tablet, and they were now making a brilliant escape. All they had to do was hop over the wall, wriggle down a rope, and be on their merry way. Addison knew their castle raid had been an excellent plan, flawlessly executed. But when he reached the fifth stone left of the gate, his heart sank. Their escape rope was gone.
* * *
• • • • • •
Eddie, Raj, and Molly skidded to a stop behind Addison. They all gaped at the stone wall where the rope should have been. It was appalling how much the rope was clearly not there.
A gang of Russian construction workers grabbed sledgehammers and began climbing a ladder to reach the parapet.
Addison’s mind was clinging to sanity by its fingertips. He double-checked his math. This was clearly the fifth stone merlon left of the main gate. He double-checked the wall. This was definitely the wall where he had left the rope. He double-checked Raj, who shook his head, bewildered. Addison triple-checked everything. This was, in fact, the same Kolossi Castle in which he had left the rope. He was quite sure he hadn’t left the rope at some other Kolossi Castle.
It was funny how life flipped things around on you, Addison reflected. A half hour ago, he was desperate to break into the castle. Now he was desperate to break out.
Still, here he was. Leaping over the castle wall was not an option, or at least, not a very good one. The thirty-foot drop was about twenty feet more than was really advisable. Addison could think of only one other option. “Run!”
Ivan, freshly escaped from the storage room, galloped up from behind.
Addison realized his day was not about to get any easier. Peeking over his shoulder, he noticed for the first time that Ivan was wearing a new brown fedora. He wondered if all his taunts about Ivan’s hair had gotten under the poor man’s skin. Running for his life, Addison now regretted not finding a few positive things to say to Ivan.
Raj led the sprint around the castle parapet. Ivan was quickly closing the gap from behind, nipping at Eddie’s heels. Russian gang members were racing around the rampart from the other direction, bearing down on Raj.
Addison could see: they were about to be the filling inside a Russian sandwich. Or, as he paused to think about it, a kid sandwich with Russian bread.
Raj saw the Russians rushing toward him and reacted first. “Guys, follow me!” Raj took a flying leap off the rampart and onto the roof of a newly built courtyard barracks. It was either an act of inspired bravery or reckless self-endangerment. Either way, the barracks were not well built, because Raj plummeted right through the roof, leaving a gaping Raj-sized hole.
The Russians kept barreling toward Addison’s group.
Addison was terrified by Raj’s jump, but on the other hand, he didn’t have any better ideas. He took a running leap off the parapet, too.
He crashed through the roof, creating a new hole to match Raj’s. The roof was plywood, and clearly not built to last. Still, the building must have been far more temporary than the buil
ders intended, because Addison created more damage than a cannonball. Plywood and scaffolding collapsed around him, slowing his fall. He landed painfully on a heap of painting tarps and barely managed to roll out of the way as Molly and Eddie came flying in after him.
Addison had the wind knocked out of him from the fall, but it was better than having the guts knocked out of him by Ivan. He struggled to his feet and helped Eddie struggle to his.
Raj was already beckoning them down a stairway to the first floor of the barracks. The group chased Raj down the steps, out the front door, and into the courtyard of the castle.
The good news, Addison could see, was that they were no longer trapped up on the rampart. The bad news, he realized, was that they were now trapped in the courtyard. On the whole, their situation was not much improved. A dozen Russians raced toward the group. Or, more specifically, toward Addison. He knew what they wanted: the bronze tablet. So he tossed it to Molly.
The crowd of Russians instantly veered, like a spooked school of fish. They zeroed in on Molly.
Molly carried the tablet a good ten yards across the courtyard, with the front gate as her end zone. When the Russians encircled her, she hurled the tablet to Eddie.
This was a slick move except that Eddie was not looking. His eyes were locked on the exit as if by tractor beam.
The bronze tablet missed him entirely. It sailed wide, bounced off a pile of two-by-fours, and splattered into a fresh vat of red paint.
Raj plunged armpit-deep into the red paint vat and snatched out the tablet. To his pleasure, he saw that he was no longer dyed blue or purple. Bright red, he decided, was an improvement. Seeing Russians closing in fast, he heaved the dripping tablet to Eddie, who—as it happened—still wasn’t looking.
The wet tablet smacked Eddie full in the back, drenching his blazer with red paint. Eddie yowled and collapsed like a felled oak.
Raj stood there, aghast. He was not in the habit of knocking over his friends with heavy bronze objects and he did not want to be.
By the time Addison scooped up the tablet from the dusty ground, Ivan had materialized in the courtyard. He wrenched Eddie’s wrists behind his back.
Eddie struggled and writhed.
Ivan favored Addison with his signature smirk. “The tablet, or I kill your friend.”
Addison, Molly, and Raj circled up, standing back to back to back. A ring of Russians surrounded them. Large men, vicious men. Men without conscience.
Addison could see he was wholly surrounded. General Custer could not have been more surrounded when he made his famous last stand. Even if Addison could break Eddie free, the castle gate was still shut tight.
He tossed the bronze tablet at Ivan’s feet, defeated. “Happy holidays, Ivan.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Firing Squad
IVAN’S GARGOYLE FACE TWISTED into a sneer that Addison knew was his best version of a smile. “Our trap worked. You took the bait. Malazar knew you would try to rescue your sister.”
Addison followed Ivan’s gaze across the courtyard and spotted Malazar, in his funereal black suit, watching from the shadows of the arched doorway to the tower. As ever, his features were cloaked in darkness. Every time Addison looked at the man, he felt a cold shudder down his spine.
Addison turned back to Ivan, hoping to come up with a clever barb, but he was still completely out of breath. His body ached from crashing through the roof of the barracks. He bent over and braced his hands on his knees, trying to recover.
Ivan took a step closer to Addison. “Not only were you lured into our trap, but you opened the tablet for us.” He picked up the bronze tablet, dripping with paint, and admired the map before handing it off to a lackey to wash it clean. “You’ve brought us one step closer to the Ring of Destiny.”
“Why do you care so much about this ring, anyway?” Addison was eager to keep Ivan talking. Not only did he want answers, he wanted to buy time to think up an escape. “Do you believe the ancient legends? That the ring is magic? That it can control angels and demons? That Solomon conjured fire from his throne?”
If it were possible, Addison would have said that Ivan’s sneer grew even wider. The Russian chuckled and shook his head. “Malazar does not believe in hocus-pocus.”
“So it’s the treasure you’re after. Solomon was one of the richest kings in history. Malazar wants to beef up his bank account.”
Ivan again shook his head. “No. Malazar needs the tablet for only one reason.”
Addison sighed. “The prophecy.”
This time, Ivan nodded yes. “He needs the ring, the golden whip, and the other treasures to come. Malazar is going to win the prize. And we will fulfill the prophecy by killing you, your sister, and the last of the Templars.”
Ivan gestured to his men with a jerk of his chin. The gang members grabbed Addison, Molly, Eddie, and Raj and hustled them up against the castle wall. Molly struggled and kicked, but it was no use. Two gang members kept her elbows tightly pinned.
Addison could see they were being lined up, firing-squad-style. He had lost all control of the situation. He turned back to Ivan. “Are my aunt and uncle alive?”
Ivan did not answer. He hefted a coil of rope from the construction area and began to unwind it, his expression unreadable.
Addison raised his voice and called to Malazar across the courtyard. “Did you rescue my aunt and uncle from Mongolia? Are you keeping them alive to help you solve the clues to reach the Ring of Destiny?”
Malazar stood shrouded in the gloom, the black of his suit blending into the darkness of the tower. Addison could see why they called him the Shadow—the man was downright difficult to see. Still, he could feel the man’s eyes on him. It gave Addison a cold feeling in his chest, as if icy hands were reaching out to stifle his very heartbeat. And then Malazar stepped forward into the light.
Addison stopped breathing.
Horrific burn scars had mangled Malazar’s face. One ear was a rounded nub. One eyebrow was entirely gone. The nose was a twisted bump, like melted candle wax.
Addison felt a twinge of pity and a bolt of fear. Something terrible had clearly happened to the man. Addison was immediately reminded of Professor Vladimir Ragar, who had kidnapped Aunt Delia and Uncle Nigel in pursuit of the lost treasure of the Incas. It couldn’t be a coincidence that both Ragar and Malazar had suffered some awful accident with fire. He wondered what tragedy had happened. He wondered if somehow the Cookes were involved. He wondered if this drove Malazar and Ragar’s madness, and their obsession with killing Cookes. But all of those questions would have to wait.
Malazar was staring at Addison with cold fury. He pointed one gloved finger at Addison and then drew the finger across his own neck.
Addison understood. He was going to die.
* * *
• • • • • •
Addison thought that firing squads usually had the decency to hand out blindfolds, but Ivan didn’t appear to be troubling himself with such details. Ivan was, however, troubling himself to tie everyone’s wrists together. Given how much Molly was squirming, this was probably going to take a while.
Eddie sighed, waiting his turn for Ivan to bind his wrists. “I could be in New York right now. I could be ice-skating in Rockefeller Center.”
“Oh please,” said Molly. “You hate ice-skating.”
“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But not as much as I hate being executed.”
Addison was at his wits’ end trying to think of a plan. He was in no mood for Eddie’s pessimism. “Eddie, don’t be dramatic. You’re acting like this is our first time being sentenced to death.”
Ivan finished tying Molly’s hands and moved on to Raj.
Addison cleared his throat and spoke to his sister. He had to talk across Eddie to do so. “Molly, there’s something I need to tell you,” he began.
Edd
ie groaned. “Addison, if you’re going to get all sentimental, someone just kill me right now.”
Addison ignored Eddie and pressed on. “Mo, our family have been relic hunters and relic guardians for seven hundred years. It’s our destiny. The Tutores Thesauri were a group that—”
“I know,” said Molly, interrupting him.
“What? How?”
“Malazar told me.”
Eddie cut in. “You spoke to Malazar?”
“Sure. When he kidnapped me. He’s really not such a bad guy once you get to know him.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“No, of course not! He’s horrible! He’s . . .” Molly searched for the right word, a word that Eddie could understand. “He’s horrendous.”
Ivan finished cinching Raj’s knots. Raj had been tempted to give Ivan a few pointers on tying a proper square knot, but thought better of it. When Ivan set to work on binding Eddie, Raj took a deep breath and plucked up his courage. “Molly, there’s something I need to say, too.”
“What is going on?” asked Eddie. “Why does everyone need to start telling things to Molly all of a sudden?”
“Molly,” Raj began, his cheeks a little flushed. “Well, I just wanted to say I think you’re absolutely—”
“Hold that thought, Raj,” Addison interjected. “I just need to concentrate for a second.” He needed a plan, and he wasn’t going to hatch one with all this chitter-chatter going on.
Raj blushed and fell silent.
Addison closed his eyes and took a deep meditative breath. He had read that it was important to clear the mind when you needed to think of a solution. He wasn’t sure how deep breaths could help with anything, but he didn’t have anything better to do at the moment. He took a second deep breath and was about to take a third when he thought he smelled something in the breeze. A strange and powerful scent. A smell that instantly filled him with hope . . . It worked, he thought. Deep breaths really can solve problems.
Addison Cooke and the Ring of Destiny Page 18