by Maggie Hall
Look where he looks. That was what the clue had said. And on the first bracelet: Where he looks, it will be found. When it is found, my twin and I will reveal all.
I sat up straight. Oh my God. That was it. This was what had been at the tip of my tongue for days. We’d been ignoring the “where he looks” clue that kept popping up because we’d already found the diary by using it, but Mr. Emerson had hidden the diary.
Not Napoleon.
We were such idiots.
Mr. Emerson had figured out Napoleon’s clues and knew where the gargoyle was looking, so he hid something in that line of sight—at the Louvre.
But the “where he looks, it will be found” clue Napoleon left on the bracelet couldn’t refer to the diary we found at the Louvre. It had to refer to something that was there in Napoleon’s time. At the Louvre or anywhere else the gargoyle might be pointing. Look where he looks. Where he looks, it will be found. Those who gave all hold the key.
The password was somewhere in the gargoyle’s sight line.
I was so keyed up, I had to type the louvre paris into my phone four times before I spelled it right. Finally, I brought up pictures. It was unlikely we were looking for something inside the museum. The collection would have changed too much since Napoleon’s time. Maybe there was a really obvious inscription on the building that unlocked the bracelets.
But I got frustrated quickly. Most of the photos weren’t good enough to tell if there was anything there at all. I called everyone into the kitchen.
“This isn’t a bad idea,” Jack said, his eyes lighting up. “Or maybe it’s not at the Louvre. That was the right direction for the gargoyle, but there are an infinite number of other buildings in the same direction.”
“‘Those who gave all,’” I thought out loud. “It sounds like someone who’s dead. Like a martyr. Or a saint? Could it be a church?”
“It could be any number of things,” Stellan said.
He pulled up a map of Paris on his phone, but it was too hard to continue the gargoyle’s sight line on the small screen.
“We need a map,” I said.
Elodie shook her head. “What we need is to go to Paris.”
CHAPTER 18
A few hours later, we were on the ground, back in the city that felt more like home than anywhere had in a long time.
Since we couldn’t let the Saxons know we were with Stellan and Elodie, Colette left me and Jack in Paris before continuing to Cannes, while Stellan and Elodie had taken a separate plane. During the flight, Jack and I studied one of the paper maps of Paris we’d picked up in an Athens bookstore. We’d isolated the area that could be in the gargoyle’s line of sight, and now we were making a list of landmarks that fell within it. Churches, small museums. Anything that may have been important to Napoleon.
I got out my phone in the cab on the way from the airport. Six missed calls from my father. I listened to the first voice mail just as Jack’s phone rang.
“Elodie?” he said, then sat forward in his seat. “What? Is he—thank God.”
In my ear, my father’s voice said, “Avery, there’s been another attack, in Paris. They tried to get to Luc Dauphin. Call me as soon as you can.”
I gasped out loud. Jack put down his phone.
“He’s fine,” he said. “An attacker came at him in the Louvre courtyard, right in plain sight. Dauphin security fought him off and got Luc to safety. They’re interrogating the attacker, but he’s not talking. Elodie and Stellan wanted to go back immediately, but the Dauphins already have Luc secured. They’re still meeting us.”
We got out of the cab, and I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see somebody coming at us with a gun at any moment, and if they did, I swear I was ready to kill them with my bare hands. I could have sworn a couple times I even saw somebody watching us, but whenever I looked twice, it was nothing.
A cab pulled up, and Elodie leaped out and started running to us before it came to a complete stop. “I just talked to Luc. The reason he was out alone was that he was coming to meet us. He figured out where the bracelet is.”
She thrust her phone into my hands.
It was zoomed in on what looked like the itinerary of the Cannes Film Festival. I looked up, confused, and Elodie pointed to one sentence. Priceless antiques from around the globe will be on display at the opening gala of the Festival. 6–10 p.m., Main Lobby.
I looked up. “Does this mean . . .”
Elodie smiled triumphantly. “Luc talked to the collector’s estate manager. The bracelet will be displayed in Cannes in two days.”
The bracelet on my arm gleamed in the sunlight, and my heart sped to a gallop. “We’re going to have to steal it,” I breathed.
“Correction,” Elodie said, taking her phone back. “We’re going to have to heist it. From the Cannes Film Festival.”
• • •
Jack wanted to go immediately, but Elodie disagreed. “First of all, even if we manage to get the other bracelet, we still need the password. Secondly, right now, the bracelet is in transit on its way to the exhibition space.”
“But the festival will be crawling with security,” I said. We were sitting on the edge of a fountain in the Place de la Concorde. “What if we went after it while it was in a warehouse or something?”
Stellan nodded his assent. “Could I just jump a guard in a back alley?”
Elodie ran her fingers through the water. “At the party, there will be distractions. Drunk people leaning on the cases, celebrities wanting closer looks, beautiful women in evening gowns. Plus, everyone will be wondering if the Order is going to try to kill them. And also, we have no idea where the bracelet is right now. Trust me, the party is the best opportunity for a heist.”
Stellan looked up at the obelisk in the center of the square. “So we head down before the opening ceremony. Avery and Jack can’t come on our plane, so maybe we’ll take the overnight train tonight?”
We all nodded.
“Which means we have time to look around Paris today, then check on Lucien before we leave the city again,” said Elodie.
We pulled out our maps with renewed energy.
There was nothing at the Place de la Concorde. I’d started to get excited, since the obelisk at the center of the plaza was Egyptian, and so maybe had some connection to Alexander, but I felt like an idiot when we realized it hadn’t been put in until after Napoleon’s death. The surrounding buildings were old enough, but there was nothing to indicate an important inscription or anything to do with Napoleon.
I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked around. “Moving on?”
A person in a blue hat disappeared behind a crepe stand, and I stopped talking.
“What?” Jack said, looking over his shoulder.
“I could swear someone’s been following us,” I said quietly. “Did you see that?”
He shook his head.
I’m sure everyone thought I was crazy after my previous false accusations. I guess I was tired enough to hallucinate. I dropped it. “What’s next?”
We had all flagged landmarks to check, and we made our way to the next ones. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be right. It didn’t help that every monument in France wanted to tout their connection to Napoleon, so most of the connections were quite slim.
At the third small church on one of the map lines, I was looking at plaques on statues of saints at the entrance and Jack was crouched, inspecting the bases of another, when I realized he wasn’t looking at the statue at all. He was looking past me, chewing his lip. He noticed me watching him and turned his attention to the floor, but his shoulders were drawn up to his ears.
“What is it?” I glanced behind me, immediately on guard.
“Nothing.” He stood and moved down the line of statues.
All I could see where he’d been looking were Stellan and Elodie, s
earching the other side of the church. “Did you see something?”
“No.” Jack moved farther away. “It’s nothing.”
“Okay . . .” I took a photo on my phone of each plaque, just in case I thought of something later. Jack was standing halfway to the altar now, and my footsteps echoed on the worn hardwood as I caught up with him. “No, seriously, what’s going on?”
Jack had been tracing a raised metal plaque with one finger, but let his hand drop to his side. “I’m—this isn’t the right time for this conversation.” He glanced over his shoulder again, to where Stellan and Elodie were whispering in a pew. “It’s just that—I have to know—is there something going on between you and Stellan?”
My nerves, already frayed, started firing overtime. I had to sit on the edge of the pew behind me. “What?” I said stupidly.
Jack’s face dropped. He thought my reaction meant more than it did. But I was just surprised. And annoyed that he’d ask something like that. No, I didn’t hate Stellan anymore. Yes, things were a little different between us now. But that was all.
Jack turned back to the plaque and rubbed his neck. “I know you and I aren’t together, and I know this is bigger than that, but . . .”
I checked to make sure Elodie and Stellan weren’t listening and lowered my voice. “Then why ask? Because the answer is obviously no, besides the supposed-to-get-married thing. I think you know that.”
“I thought I did.”
The words hit like he’d slapped me. “And what could possibly make you think otherwise?”
Jack glanced toward the front of the church again, then headed out the doors and pulled out the map. “You’ve been closer lately.”
I followed him and leaned over the map without really seeing it. “We’ve all been closer lately.” I sounded so defensive. I took a deep breath and slowed down. “We’ve been living on a boat. And in small apartments. And seeing each other every day. You don’t see me asking if there’s anything going on between you and Elodie.”
“I saw him coming out of the room you were in on the boat last night,” Jack said quietly.
My finger paused on the map. “No, I can guarantee you didn’t.”
“I did. I was wide awake.”
“Then he was probably visiting one of the other two people sleeping in that same room.”
“Lettie and Elodie were out taking a walk,” Jack said. “I think . . . I saw him leave our room. Go to yours. Come back a couple minutes later. He was either hoping for something else, or checking on you.” Jack didn’t sound angry. He just sounded . . . resigned.
“He was probably getting a sleeping pill from Elodie’s bag,” I said. “I was asleep. Whatever you saw was nothing. Less than nothing.”
“You’re probably right,” Jack said.
“Yeah. I am.” I leaned against one of the metal poles lining the sidewalk and held my hand out for the map. Part of me wondered why I was quite so bothered, and all of me really didn’t want to think about it. I yanked the map out of Jack’s hand a little more forcefully than necessary.
“You’re considering it, though,” Jack said quietly. “Considering him, I mean.”
“If the bracelet doesn’t come through, I’ll have to do something. And yeah, Stellan’s a better option than whoever Alistair chooses.” I was running a finger up the map when I suddenly heard the words that had just come out of my mouth. Really? When had I decided that?
“But right now I’m doing my best to figure out this next clue,” I said quickly, “and this is a distraction I don’t need.”
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just can’t not think about it when I see how he looks at you.”
I glanced back at the church. The heavy wooden doors were still closed, Elodie and Stellan still inside. “He looks at me like I’m a gold-plated statue to put on his mantel. The same way everyone in the Circle looks at me.”
And that was true, usually. Except for last night, when he realized I wasn’t dead. Except this morning, when he apparently wanted nothing to do with me.
Jack touched the back of my hand. “Forget I said anything, okay? It’s just—it’s everything, you know?”
I stared down at our hands. “Yeah.” I was getting tired of it all, too.
I pulled away and traced over the lines I’d made on the map. We’d been sticking inside the triangle formed by the outermost ones, but now I traced a little farther out with two fingers.
“Are we sure these angles are exactly right?” I said, changing the subject.
“No,” Jack said. “This is everything approximately within the gargoyle’s sight line.”
I squinted at the map. “I wonder if the key word is approximately. I’m sure Napoleon was careful about the clues he planted, but maybe when the gargoyle was installed, he got moved a few millimeters. That could change the angle as you get farther away from Notre-Dame.”
“And to Fitz, the Louvre was the best bet, so he planted his clue there—”
“But it doesn’t necessarily mean Napoleon’s was on that same line,” I finished. We leaned over the map excitedly. “Maybe we could go a little outside this triangle.”
“You know what is really close . . .” Jack pointed.
The Arc de Triomphe. “Napoleon put it up, right?” I said.
“He commissioned it. It wasn’t finished before his death, but it was on its way. He would certainly have been able to inscribe anything he wanted there.”
The church doors opened, and Stellan and Elodie came out. We explained our thoughts.
“And the other monument Napoleon used was a big one,” I finished. “He chose Notre-Dame, not one of these tiny churches. Maybe he assumed his own monument would achieve just as much fame.” And he was right. Besides the Eiffel Tower, which was put in well after Napoleon’s death, the Arc de Triomphe was probably the most famous monument in Paris.
Elodie suddenly looked up with a sharp intake of breath. “The Arc de Triomphe is a monument to soldiers who fought in the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars.”
Jack and Stellan both looked confused for a second, then their faces lit up, too, and finally, I got it.
“‘Those who gave all hold the key,’” I said. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 19
The car let us off in the center of a bustling traffic circle. The Arc de Triomphe loomed overhead, an embodiment of Paris itself: statuesque, historic, incredibly detailed. Surrounded by the modern Paris of stylish ladies on Vespas and tourists and slinking vendors selling Eiffel Tower key chains.
All around the grand arch were intricate carvings of battles and angels and soldiers. Jack split off to the opposite side without waiting for me, and Elodie followed, throwing me a curious look. I leaned against the carved stone and closed my eyes with a sigh.
Someone leaned beside me, and I wasn’t surprised to hear Stellan’s voice. “So your kind-of-but-not-really boyfriend thinks you and I are doing a little something on the side?”
“How do you know—never mind.” It didn’t matter. I opened my eyes. Stellan’s arms were tight, shoulders hunched to his ears, and his eyes darted over the throngs of tourists under the monument. He was trying to act normal, but the attack on Luc had put him on edge.
I thought about asking him if he’d come in to get a sleeping pill last night, or whether he was in my room to see if I was okay. I didn’t. I pushed away from the wall and searched the area above my head.
“Was it Elodie?” I asked.
Stellan crossed his arms over his chest. “Was what Elodie?”
I took a break from squinting up at the bas-relief on the arch above. It didn’t have the symbol from my locket on it and didn’t seem to be of the Fates, which were the two clue markers we’d seen so far.
I motioned in the direction Jack had gone. “Whatever happened between the two of you to make you hat
e each other, when it’s obvious you used to be close. It sounds like you both had a thing for her at some point, and now he thinks you’re trying to steal me.”
Stellan’s arms dropped to his side, and with that one gesture, he looked tired. “No,” he said. “We all used to be close. Me and Elodie—we liked each other, but it wasn’t . . . We were young. Our bedrooms were on the same hallway.” He shrugged like, what else do you expect? “And she and Jack, after that . . . they dated for a while.”
I was momentarily distracted from the artwork.
“We worked more closely with the Saxons just a few years back. Jack and I were together a lot because of Fitz, and the two of us and Elodie . . . we were friends—us and Luc, too. Jack was practically my younger brother.”
I tried to picture what the two of them must have been like when they actually liked each other. And—Jack and Elodie, together? I knew from the truth-or-dare game that they’d kissed, but wow.
I’d been quiet long enough that Stellan left me behind. I followed him inside the arch, where there were carved lists of names that must have been soldiers. Column after column, with some of the names underlined.
“So what happened—” I cut off. Something the tour guide with a group next to us said had just sparked something. “Did she say the underlined names are the soldiers who died in battle?”
Stellan shrugged, and leaned over to the tour group and asked someone on the periphery. The lady nodded.
“‘Those who gave all hold the key,’” I said. “What if the password is one of the names?”
Stellan squinted up at the names, then down at the bracelet on my arm. I took it off and rotated the tarnished gold rungs inside it.
“I suppose we can try them all,” Stellan said.
I scanned the names. “Not all. Only the five-letter ones.” I pulled the bracelet off my arm and spun the five bands to spell the first underlined name. When nothing happened, we kept going down the column. Damas. Binot. Penne.
Halfway down this side of the arch when my eyes were starting to cross, Stellan took the bracelet.