Maze of Bones - 39 Clues 01

by Rick Riordan

  "Embarking on this quest," Mr. McIntyre was saying, "will lead you to the treasure. But only

  one of you will attain it. One individual" -- his eyes flickered across Amy's face -- "or one team will find the treasure. I can tell you no more. I do not, myself, know where the chase will lead. I can only start you on the path, monitor your progress, and provide some small measure of guidance. Now -- who will choose first?"

  Aunt Beatrice stood. "This is ridiculous. Any of you who play this silly game are fools.

  I'll take the money!"

  Mr. McIntyre nodded. "As you wish, madam. As soon as you leave this room, the numbers on your voucher will become active. You may withdraw your money from the Royal Bank of Scotland at your leisure. Who's next?"

  Several more stood up and took the money. Uncle Jose. Cousin Ingrid. A dozen other people Amy didn't recognize. Each took the green voucher and became an instant millionaire.

  Then Ian and Natalie Kabra rose.

  "We accept the challenge," Ian announced. "We will work as a team of two. Give us

  the clue."

  "Very well," Mr. McIntyre said. "Your vouchers, please."

  Ian and Natalie approached the table. Mr. McIntyre took out a silver cigarette lighter and burned the million-dollar papers. In return, he handed Ian and Natalie a manila envelope sealed with red wax. "Your first clue. You may not read it until instructed to

  do so. You, Ian and Natalie Kabra, will be Team One." "Hey!" Mr. Holt objected. "Our whole family's taking the challenge!

  We want to be Team One!"

  "We're number one!" the Holt kids started chanting, and their pit bull, Arnold, leaped into the air and barked along with them.

  Mr. McIntyre raised his hand for silence. "Very well, Mr. Holt. Your family's vouchers, please. You shall be Team ... uh, you shall also be a team."

  They made the trade -- five million-dollar vouchers for one envelope with a clue, and the Holts didn't even bat an eye. As they marched back to their seats, Reagan bumped Amy in the shoulder. "No pain, no gain, wimp!"

  Next, Alistair Oh struggled to his feet. "Oh, very well. I can't resist a good riddle. I suppose you may call me Team Three."

  Then the Starling triplets rushed forward. They put their vouchers on the table and three million more dollars went up in flames.

  "Da,"

  Irina Spasky said. "I, also, shall play this game. I work alone."

  "Hey, yo, wait up." Jonah Wizard sauntered forward like he was pretending to be a street punk, the way he did on Who Wants to Be a Gangsta?

  Which was kind of ridiculous since he was worth about a billion dollars and lived in Beverly Hills. "I'm all over this." He slapped his voucher on the table. "Hand me the clue, homes."

  "We'd like to film the contest," his dad piped up. "No," Mr. McIntyre said.

  '"Cause it would make great TV," the dad said. "I could talk to the studios about a percentage split -- "

  "No,"

  Mr. McIntyre insisted. "This is not for entertainment, sir. This is a matter of life and

  death."

  Mr. McIntyre looked around the room and focused on Amy. "Who else?" he called. "Now is the time to choose."

  Amy realized she and Dan were the last ones undecided. Most of the forty guests had taken the money. Six teams had taken the challenge -- all of them older or richer or seemingly more likely to succeed than Amy and Dan. Aunt Beatrice glared at them, warning them that they were about to get disowned. Ian was smiling smugly.

  Perhaps you weren't as important to the old woman as you thought, eh?

  Amy remembered what his annoying sister, Natalie, had said:

  Grace just knew they weren't up to the challenge.

  Amy's face felt hot with shame. Maybe the Kabras were right. When the Holts turned her brother upside down, she hadn't fought back. When the Kabras insulted her, she'd just stood there tongue-tied. How could she handle a dangerous quest?

  But then she heard another voice in her head: You will make me proud, Amy.

  And suddenly she knew:

  This was what Grace had been talking about. This was the adventure Amy was supposed to take. If she didn't, she might as well crawl under a rock and hide for the rest of her

  life.

  She looked at her brother. Despite how annoying he was, they had always been able to communicate just by looking at each other. It wasn't telepathy or anything, but she could tell what her brother was thinking.

  It's a lot of money, Dan told her.

  A lot of awesome baseball cards.

  Mom and Dad would want us to try, Amy replied with her eyes. This is what Grace wanted us to do.

  Yeah, but a Babe Ruth and a Mickey Mantle...

  Ian and Natalie will hate it, Amy coaxed. And Aunt Beatrice will probably blow a gasket.

  A smile crept across his face. I guess Babe Ruth can wait.

  Amy took his voucher. They walked to the desk together and she picked up Mr. McIntyre's lighter.

  "We're in," she told him, and she sent two million dollars up in smoke.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dan felt a dizzy rush, like the time he ate twenty packs of Skittles. He couldn't believe how much money they'd just thrown away.

  Ever since he was little, he'd dreamed about doing something that would make his parents proud. He knew they were dead, of course. He barely remembered them. Still... he thought if he could just accomplish something amazing even cooler than making the ultimate baseball card collection or becoming a ninja lord -- his parents would somehow know. And they'd be proud. This competition to become the greatest Cahill sounded like the perfect chance.

  Plus he liked treasure. And it was a real bonus that Aunt Beatrice's face turned completely purple as she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Now the Great Hall was empty except for the seven teams and Mr. McIntyre. After a tense silence, the old lawyer said, "You may open your envelopes."

  RIP, RIP, RIP.

  40The clue was written in black calligraphy on creme paper. It read:

  RESOLUTION:

  The fine print to guess,

  Seek out Richard S

  "That's it?"

  Mary-Todd Holt screeched. "That's all we get?"

  "Ten words," Eisenhower Holt muttered. "That's -- " He started counting on his fingers. "Roughly $500,000 per word," Alistair Oh supplied, "since your family gave up five million dollars. I got a bargain. Each word only cost me $100,000." "That's stupid!" Madison Holt said. "We need more clue!"

  "Richard S -- ," Ian mused. "Now who could that be?" He looked at his sister, and they both smiled like they were sharing a private joke. Dan wanted to kick them. "Wait a minute." Jonah Wizard's dad scowled. "Did everyone get the same clue? Because my son insists on exclusive material. It's in his standard contract." "The thirty-nine clues," Mr. McIntyre said, "are the major stepping stones to the final goal. They are the same for each team. The first one, which you have received, is the only one that will be so simple."

  "Simple?" Alistair Oh raised his eyebrows. "I'd hate to see the difficult ones." "However," Mr. McIntyre continued, "there are many paths to each clue. Hints and secrets have been buried for you to find -- clues to the clues, if you will." "I'm getting a headache," Sinead Starling said.

  "How you proceed is entirely up to you," Mr. McIntyre said. "But remember: You all seek the same end, and only one team will succeed. Speed is of the essence." Irina Spasky folded her clue, stuck in it her purse, and walked out the door. Alistair Oh frowned. "It seems Cousin Irina has an idea." The Starling triplets put their heads together. Then, as if they'd gotten a collective brain flash, they stood up so fast they knocked over their chairs and ran outside. Jonah Wizard's dad pulled him into the corner. They had a heated discussion and his dad typed some stuff into his BlackBerry. "Gotta jet," Jonah said. "Later, losers." And off they went.

  That made three teams already out the door, and Dan still had no idea what the clue meant.

  "Well." Ian Kabra stretched lazily, like
he had all the time in the world. "Are you ready, dear sister?"

  "To make fools of our American cousins?" Natalie smiled. "Anytime." Dan tried to trip them as they walked past, but they nimbly stepped over his leg and kept going.

  "All right!" Mr. Holt announced. "Team, form up!"

  The Holt clan shot to their feet. Their buff little pit bull, Arnold, barked and leaped around them like he was trying to bite their noses. "Where we going, Dad?" Hamilton asked. "I don't know. But everybody else is leaving! Follow them!"

  They marched double-time out of the Great Hall, which left only Amy, Dan, Alistair Oh, and William McIntyre.

  "Dear me," Alistair sighed. With his black suit and silk cravat, he reminded Dan of a butler. A butler with a secret. His eyes seemed to be smiling, even when he wasn't. "I think I'll have a stroll around the grounds and think about this."

  Dan was thankful to see him leave. Alistair seemed like the nicest of their competition, but he was still competition.

  Dan stared at the clue again, more frustrated than ever. "Resolution. Fine print.

  Richard S -- . I don't get it."

  "I can offer you no help with the clue." Mr. McIntyre managed a faint smile. "But your grandmother would be pleased you accepted the challenge." Amy shook her head. "We don't stand a chance, do we? The Kabras and the Starlings are rich. Jonah Wizard's famous. The Holts are like steroid monsters. Alistair and Irina seem so -- I don't know --worldly.

  And Dan and I .."

  "Have other talents," Mr. McIntyre finished. "As I'm sure you'll find out." Dan reread the clue. He thought about baseball cards, and letters, and autographs. "We're supposed to find this guy Richard," he decided. "But why is his last name just S..?"

  Amy's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. I remember reading that back in the 1700s, people used to do that. They would use only one letter if they wanted to disguise their names."

  "Huh," Dan said. "So, like, I could say A -- has a face like a baboon butt, and you wouldn't know who I'm talking about?" Amy boxed him on the ear.

  "Ow!"

  "Children," Mr. McIntyre interrupted. "You will have enough enemies without fighting each other. Besides" -- he checked his gold pocket watch -- "we don't have much time, and there

  Is something I must tell you, something your grandmother wanted you to know." "An inside tip?" Dan asked hopefully.

  "A warning, young master Dan. You see, all Cahills -- if they know themselves to be Cahills -- belong to one of four major branches." Amy stood up straight. "I remember this! Grace told me once."

  Dan frowned. "When did she tell you that?" "In the library one afternoon. We were talking."

  "She didn't tell me!"

  "Maybe you weren't listening! There are four branches. The Ekaterina, the Janus, the ... uh, Tomas, and the Lucian." "Which are we?" Dan asked.

  "I don't know." Amy looked at Mr. McIntyre for help. "She just mentioned the names. She wouldn't tell me what we are."

  "I'm afraid I can't help you there," Mr. McIntyre said, but Dan could tell from his tone that he was keeping something back. "However, children, there is another ... ah, interested party you should know about. Not one of the four Cahill branches, but a group that may make your quest more difficult."

  "Ninjas?" Dan asked excitedly.

  "Nothing quite that safe," Mr. McIntyre said. "I can tell you very little about them. I confess I know only the name and a few unsettling stories. But you must beware of them. This was your grandmother's last warning, which she made me promise to tell you if you accepted the challenge:

  Beware the Madrigals."

  A chill went down Dan's back. He wasn't sure why. The name Madrigals just sounded evil. "But, Mr. McIntyre, who -- "

  "My boy," the old man said, "I can tell you no more. I've stretched the rules of the

  competition saying as much as I have. Just promise me you will trust no one.

  Please. For your own safety."

  "But we don't even know where to start!" Amy protested. "Everyone else just rushed off like they knew what to do. We need answers!"

  Mr. McIntyre stood. He closed his leather folder. "I must get back to my office. But, my

  dear, perhaps your way of finding out is not the same as the other teams'. What do

  you normally do when you need answers?"

  "I read a book." Amy gasped. "The library! Grace's library!"

  She raced out of the Great Hall. Usually, Dan did not run with excitement when his sister suggested visiting a library. This time, he did.

  The library was next to Grace's bedroom -- a big sunken parlor lined with bookshelves. Dan thought it was creepy being back here with just Amy, especially since Grace had died next door in her big four-poster bed. He expected the rooms to be all draped in black, with sheets over the furniture like you saw in movies, but the library was bright and airy and cheerful, just like it had always been.

  That didn't seem right to Dan. With Grace gone, the mansion should be dark and dreary -- kind of the way he felt. He stared at the leather chair by the window and remembered one time he'd been sitting there, playing with a cool stone dagger he'd busted out of a locked display case. Grace had come up so quietly he didn't notice her until she was standing right over him. Instead of getting mad, she'd knelt next to him. That dagger is from Tenochtitlan, she'd said.

  Aztec warriors used to carry these for ritual sacrifice. They would cut off the parts of their enemies that they believed held their fighting spirit.

  She'd showed him how sharp the blade was, and then she left him alone. She hadn't told him to be careful. She hadn't gotten angry because he'd busted into her cabinet. She'd acted like his curiosity was totally normal -- even admirable.

  No adult had ever understood Dan that well. Thinking about it now, Dan felt like somebody had cut away part of his spirit.

  Amy started searching the library books. Dan tried to help, but he had no idea what he was looking for and quickly became bored. He spun the old globe with brown seas and weird-colored continents, wondering if it would make a good bowling ball. Then he noticed something he'd never seen before under the Pacific Ocean - a signature.

  Grace Cahill, 1964.

  "Why did Grace autograph the world?" he asked. Amy glanced over. "She was a cartographer. A map-maker and an explorer. She made that globe herself." "How did you know that?"

  Amy rolled her eyes. "Because I listened to her stories."

  "Huh." That idea had never occurred to Dan. "So where'd she explore?"

  A man's voice said, "Everywhere."

  Alistair Oh was leaning on his cane in the doorway, smiling at them. "Your grandmother explored every continent, Dan. By the time she was twenty-five, she could speak six languages fluently, handle a spear or boomerang or rifle with equal skill, and navigate almost every major city in the world. She knew my hometown of Seoul better than I did. Then, for reasons unknown, she came back to Massachusetts to settle down. A woman of mystery -- that was Grace."

  Dan wanted to hear more about Grace's boomerang skills. That sounded sweet! But Amy stepped away from the bookcase. Her face was bright red. "A-Alistair. Uh ... what do you want?"

  "Oh, don't let me stop you. I won't interfere."

  "Um, but... there's nothing here," Amy mumbled. "I was hoping for ... I don't know.

  Something I hadn't seen before, but I've read most of these. There really aren't that

  many books. And there's nothing about Richards-."

  "My dear children, may I suggest something? We need an alliance."

  Dan was immediately suspicious. "Why would you want an alliance with a couple of

  kids?"

  The old man chuckled. "You have intelligence and youth, and a fresh way of looking at things. I, on the other hand, have resources and age. I may not be one of the most famous Cahills, but I did change the world in my own small way. You know my fortune comes from inventions, eh? Did you know I invented the microwavable burrito?"

  "Wow," Dan said. "Earth-shattering."

>   "There's no need to thank me. The point is I have resources at my disposal. And you can't travel around the world on your own, you know. You'll need an adult chaperone."

  Around the world?

  Dan hadn't thought about that. He hadn't even been allowed to go on the fourth grade field trip to New York last spring because he'd put Mentos in his Spanish teacher's Diet Coke. The idea that this clue hunt might take them anywhere in the world made him feel a little lightheaded.

  "But -- but we can't help each other," Amy said. "Each team is separate."

  Alistair spread his hands. "We can't both win.

  But this challenge may take weeks, perhaps months. Until the end, surely we can collaborate? We are family, after all."

  "So give us some help," Dan decided. "There's nothing here about Richard S___ . Where do we look?"

  Alistair tapped his cane on the floor. "Grace was a secretive woman. But she loved books. She loved them very much. And you're right, Amy. It does seem strange there are so few of them here."

  "You think she had more books?" Amy cupped her hand over her mouth. "A ... a secret library?"

  Alistair shrugged. "It's a large house. We could split up and search."

  But then Dan noticed something -- one of those random little details that often caught

  his eye. On the wall, at the very top of the bookshelf, was a plaster crest just like above the front door of the mansion, a fancy C surrounded by four smaller coats of arms -- a dragon, a bear, a wolf, and a pair of snakes wrapped around a sword. He must've seen this before a million times, but he'd never noticed that the smaller crests each had a letter carved in the middle E, T, J, L. "Get me a ladder," he said.