Addison and Molly began firing off questions like reporters at a press conference.
Uncle Jasper held up his hands. “All right, young Cookes. You’ve been through more than anyone ever should. You require food and rest. Besides, there are some things that must be shown and not told. Tonight, you may ask me three questions and then Jennings will swoop you off to your dinner.”
“Is someone trying to kill us?” asked Addison.
“Yes.”
Addison gestured to the inch of bronze chain just visible under Uncle Jasper’s collar. “Are you a member of some secret order, along with Uncle Nigel?”
“Yes.”
“Are we safe here?” asked Molly.
Uncle Jasper looked deep into her eyes, considering. Addison marveled at how those eyes could contain so much humor and so much sorrow. “For now.”
“Uncle Jasper, I put my trust in the Darkhad. I took the golden whip from the Khan’s tomb and tried to trade it for Aunt Delia’s and Uncle Nigel’s lives. But I got them killed, and now the Shadow has the whip.” Addison felt the edges of tears quivering in his eyes. He was ashamed, hoping nobody would see them in the dim light of the fire.
“Ah, the golden whip. No, no, Addison. You are looking at it all wrong.” Uncle Jasper’s face was lined with care. “You trusted your instincts. You knew to take the golden whip, and you were right.”
“I was right?”
“It’s not just a whip, Addison. Or a piece of archaeology. It has a purpose. That is why Malazar is willing to kill for it. It is very important.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The vori were going to try to finish off your aunt and uncle no matter what you did. Handing over the whip didn’t kill my brother, the Shadow did.” Uncle Jasper drew on his pipe and squinted through the smoke. “But you were quite right to free the whip from the tomb, for now the prophecy can continue to unfold. You trusted your instincts—you believed in yourself.”
“This prophecy again,” said Molly, fighting a losing battle to snuff out a sneeze.
“All in good time.”
“Why do they need this golden whip?”
“Technically, that’s a fourth question, but I will let it slide. The Shadow needs many things, you see. The whip is part of a puzzle. And we need to be getting it back. And as for you,” Uncle Jasper said, casually picking a piece of lint from his creased trousers, “you’ll be wanting revenge, I suppose.”
Addison raised his eyebrows. “How?”
“Are you learning to fight?”
“Barely.” Addison admitted, thinking of his meager progress with his butterfly knife.
“A little,” said Molly, remembering her roundhouse kick.
“Can you ride a horse? Wield a sword? Fire a bow and arrow? Can you climb? How far can you run? What languages do you speak?”
“We know a little ancient Greek and Latin.”
“Not just dead languages. Living languages!”
“Well,” Addison considered. “We’re making good headway with English.”
Uncle Jasper looked at him doubtfully.
“Can I ask you one more question?” said Addison.
“May you ask me,” Uncle Jasper corrected.
“Why would we need to use swords and ride horses? Isn’t that all old-fashioned?”
Uncle Jasper set his pipe down by an ashtray. “At any time in the past year, have you ever found yourselves in life-or-death situations where you wished you had these skills?”
Addison remembered Tony Chin easily besting him in a sword fight. He remembered nearly falling off his horse several times in the Naadam race. He remembered the terrifying rock climb entering the Khan’s necropolis. He began to suspect that not everything he needed to learn could be found in a book. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
“The world is full of ancient relics and people who will stop at nothing to steal them.” Uncle Jasper loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and drew out his medallion, glittering on its bronze chain. “Did your uncle manage to give you his medallion?”
Addison nodded.
“You may wear it for now, Addison. But eventually, the medallion must be earned.”
“Can I earn one?” Molly blurted out.
“You may attempt to earn one,” Uncle Jasper corrected. “If you choose.” He rose to his feet. The butler had magically appeared behind them. “Jennings will prepare you a bite to eat. And then you must get a good night’s sleep. Your training begins tomorrow.”
• • • • • •
That night, Addison stood by the window of his room. The rains had cleared, and a full moon lit up the gardens, the meadows, and the forests beyond. He knew he should feel tired, but his body was alert and his thoughts were racing like greyhounds on the backstretch. He needed to learn the secret history of his family. He needed to learn all he could about the Shadow. He needed to learn the prophecy.
The pain of losing his aunt and uncle came to him in waves. The image of their fall would not leave his thoughts. It was too close to the image of his mother’s fall, printed forever in his mind’s eye.
Addison drew the Templar medallion from his pocket. It gleamed in the moonlight. For the first time since losing his aunt and uncle, he hung it around his neck, the cool metal against his skin somehow electrifying.
There was a new feeling running in his veins. He was not a kid anymore, he sensed that. He had seen too much. He had seen the man responsible for the loss in his life: Malazar.
Addison stood with his bare feet on the wooden floor, watching the storm clouds swirling over the southern skies, and felt a new set to the features of his face, a new glint in his eye. A new mission in his life.
He needed to find out who his parents really were. He needed to retrieve the golden whip. And there was one more thing he needed most of all . . .
Revenge.
Author’s Note
• • • • • •
The Secret History of the Mongols was written shortly after Genghis Khan’s death some eight hundred years ago. It is a long and challenging read because it was written in the days before there were Penguin editors. Thanks in large part to this biography, we know quite a lot about Genghis Khan’s remarkable journey from kidnapped slave to world conqueror. It is a rewarding story if you can slog through it. The Travels of Marco Polo, also written nearly eight hundred years ago, provides similarly vivid detail about the empire of Genghis Khan and is a bit more readable.
In addition to Marco Polo, a number of European explorers traveled throughout the Mongol Empire. These include the Franciscan explorer Giovanni da Pian del Carpine in 1245 and the papal envoy William of Rubruck in 1253. Rubruck reached the Mongol capital of Karakoram and reported finding two churches and an active Christian community. The Knights Templar, a secretive European military order that reached the height of its powers during the time of Genghis Khan, also probably came into contact with the Mongols in some way. For instance, Rembald de Voczon, a Templar master, fought the Mongol Horde at the Battle of Mohi in 1241.
Much of the history of that time period has been lost. The old churches of Kashgar have either been destroyed or converted into mosques as the city’s population has changed. The city of Karakorum was sacked by the Chinese in 1388 and is now buried under the earth. A small shantytown is all that remains. Some parts of the Erdene Zuu Monastery still stand, though the majority of the site was destroyed by a Communist purge in 1939. The Elsen-Tasarkhai dunes can be found near Karakoram. The Bezeklik Thousand Buddha Caves are to the south, in the Taklamakan Desert.
The Black Darkhad are an ethnic group in Northern Mongolia who trace their lineage to Bo’orchu and Muqali, Genghis Khan’s generals who were tasked with guarding his shrine. The Darkhad maintain secret rituals and have kept a sacred flame burning in the shrine for eight hundred years. The shrine is said to contain
some of the emperor’s belongings, but not the body of Genghis Khan.
The Ikh Khorig, or Great Taboo, is a 240-square-kilometer area of the Khentii Mountains. In particular, the Burkhan Khaldun mountain is considered the most sacred place in Mongolia, partly because Genghis Khan himself ordered his descendants to worship it. No one besides the Darkhad are allowed to enter this land. Using satellite imagery, archaeologists have identified several possible sites for the Khan’s final resting place inside the Great Taboo. The Mongolian government, out of respect for their history, has forbidden most excavations.
To this day, the location of Genghis Khan’s tomb remains a mystery.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Michael Green, Brian Geffen, Shanta Newlin, Katherine Quinn, Anna Jarzab, Kathryn Bhirud, Nicole White, and everyone in the Penguin family. Also thank you to Christopher Adler, Brianne Johnson, and my actual family.
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Addison Cooke and the Tomb of the Khan Page 30