by Maggie Hall
“We’re not telling you anything,” I said.
“Hmm,” Cole mused. “Whose head do they least want to see a hole in?” He spun around lazily, pausing on me, then Colette, but stopping on Luc. “The Dauphin heir. Of course.”
Elodie drew a sharp breath, and Stellan got halfway off the couch.
“No no,” Cole said, pushing his gun against Luc’s skull. Stellan sat back.
“Now,” Lydia said. Both bracelets sat on the coffee table between us. Lydia leaned in and picked one up.
Suddenly, there was a knife whipping through the air over her head.
Cole dodged, and the knife grazed his shoulder, then clattered to the ground with a strange hollow clunk. Plastic, and Elodie’s. She must have had it strapped to her somewhere, able to get through the metal detector.
In the second it took me to process it, Elodie was already lunging off the couch toward Luc. And then there was a gunshot, and she was thrown back onto a cafe table.
I screamed. Stellan and Colette and Jack all jumped up.
“Sit!” Lydia yelled. “Or I’ll hit something more vital next time.”
Elodie struggled to sit up, clutching the bleeding side of her torso. She was alive. Stellan started toward her.
“Stay,” Lydia said.
“She’ll bleed out.” Stellan perched at the edge of his couch. “Let me bandage it.”
“She should have thought of that before trying to kill my brother,” Lydia spat. “If you tell us everything you know quickly, then I’ll consider letting you help her.”
“No,” Elodie choked with a grimace. “Don’t tell them.”
“As the maid has already determined,” Lydia continued, like nothing had happened. She was still holding a bracelet in one hand and her gun in the other. “Blood is the key to this lock. What we need to know is how that works.” None of us said anything. “First of all, how could there be a union of blood? There’s the obvious, which I’m sure you’ve already discussed. A child.”
Jack shot Lydia a look so full of hatred, even I shivered. “There’s no way that could work.”
Lydia raised her eyebrows. Clearly he’d never talked back to her before. “It’s true it’s a little outside our time range, but let’s run with it for now. If that did turn out to be correct, what would it mean, scientifically?”
Still, none of us said anything, even though we had had some ideas.
Elodie’s face was turning pale, and she took an unsteady breath. Suddenly, Luc sat forward. “A baby’s DNA is the combination of its parents’,” he said.
“Luc, don’t help them,” Elodie grunted.
“I’m not letting you die, El,” he said, then continued, “If the parents are some special thing themselves, the combination of their blood could be something else entirely.”
We were all gaping at him. It wasn’t that I thought Luc was stupid, but I also hadn’t thought he’d been paying much attention to the technical details, and here he was parroting theories Elodie had been putting together for days.
My siblings didn’t seem as impressed. “So you’re saying the DNA in a baby’s blood could unlock some kind of latch built into this bracelet? A human biological substance could change a nonhuman substance significantly enough to alter it?” Cole said skeptically. “So we have Avery make a baby with whoever the One is, wait nine months, extract its DNA, inject said DNA into these bracelets, and poof! We have four pieces of ugly jewelry instead of two?”
“Interesting theory,” Lydia said.
Cole curled his lip. “Let’s just smash the things.”
“If we smash them, we damage whatever’s inside,” Lydia said witheringly.
“Now you know as much as we do,” I said. Elodie was trying to keep pressure on her wound, but I could tell she was fading. Stellan was poised on the edge of the couch like it was killing him not to run to her. “Let us help her, please.”
Lydia shook her head. “Even if the baby hypothesis is true, it doesn’t help our cause at the moment. You must have other theories.”
“We don’t,” Jack said. “We’re not lying, Lydia. We thought the passwords would unlock the bracelets, but they’ve only done it halfway.”
I wrapped my locket around my fingers nervously and frowned when my fingers came away bloody. One of the cuts on my chest from the explosion must still be bleeding.
I started to wipe it off on my dress—but then stared at the finger.
Wait.
Blood. What if this were far simpler than we were making it?
I pressed my lips together.
“What?” Lydia demanded. Of course she’d seen that.
I let my hands fall by my sides. “Nothing.”
Lydia came behind me, keeping her gun moving between all of us. “How much longer do you think the maid can hold out?”
Stellan growled low in his throat, and Colette let out a tiny sob. Elodie’s eyes were slipping closed.
“Or maybe I’ll maim one of the Keepers,” Lydia continued. “You’re far too fond of both of them, anyway.” She glanced at Jack, then at Stellan. I saw her eyes land on the burn on his hand. The handkerchief had slipped off it, and it was already far less red; almost healed. Lydia squinted at it, but there was no way she could realize what it meant.
I tasted bile in the back of my throat. “I was just going to say . . .” I stalled.
Lydia peered over my shoulder. “Blood,” she said, running her fingers across my collarbone. Damn. She must have seen me look at it. “Blood has DNA. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Like combining blood instead of waiting for a baby.”
Elodie forced one eye open. “Not the same,” she said, her voice weak. “Mixing people’s blood together like you’re making a cocktail doesn’t combine DNA.”
“We’re guessing here,” Lydia said. “Who’s to say this isn’t the right guess?”
“So we take Avery’s blood, and that of the One, mix them together, and inject that into the bracelet. I suppose that does cut nine months out of the equation, which is a plus, but it still sounds absurd,” Cole said.
“But easy enough to try,” Lydia countered. She pointed to Luc. “He’s as likely to be the One as any of them.”
Cole grabbed Luc’s forearm and dragged a knife across it, then passed it to Lydia. Luc sagged back against the couch, wide-eyed. Lydia leaned over me and swiped more blood from my chest. She wiped Luc’s blood onto her thumb, rubbed her fingers together, and coated the raised part of the bracelet in her hand.
Even though the rest of us knew nothing that united Luc and me would work, we all watched the bracelet. I watched Cole and Lydia. Maybe while they were distracted, we could overpower them. But they didn’t drop their guard.
After a few seconds, as the bracelet just sat there, doing nothing, we all relaxed again.
“It’s not him,” Lydia said softly. “You all knew that wouldn’t work.” She went perfectly still for a moment, then dragged the knife deeper across my chest. I gasped, clutching at the stinging cut, and felt hot blood ooze out through my fingers. My mom pulled me close.
Lydia whirled around. Stellan was still on the edge of the next couch over, just a couple feet away. Before I even understood what she was thinking, she slashed out at his forearm with the same knife and wiped the blade in her hand, mixing his blood with mine.
“No,” I choked, pulling out of my mom’s grasp. Next to me, the rolled-up sleeve of Stellan’s shirt was turning crimson. He watched Lydia, mesmerized, as she picked up the other bracelet. She slapped her bloody palm inside it, staining the gold red.
For a second, nothing happened.
And then Napoleon’s twin bracelet started to smoke.
CHAPTER 34
“The blood is melting it.” Lydia set the bracelet on the coffee table. “Or heating it. Or something. It’s a lock. I was rig
ht.”
I felt a hand come around mine, and slipped my bloody fingers through Stellan’s. Drops of crimson from our clasped hands fell onto the cafe’s worn hardwood floors. We couldn’t have been sure before, but there it was: the union was us. Our very own map of fates was real. Stellan was part of the thirteenth bloodline, and even if it wasn’t getting married, we, together, meant something.
And apparently, it was far more than symbolic power.
Lydia whirled. “It is him. I knew it. When we first walked in, I was surprised he wasn’t worse off than that tiny little burn—and just since we’ve been sitting here, it’s healed the rest of the way, hasn’t it?”
She was right—as I looked closer, I could see that where the burn had been, there was nothing more than new pink skin, pearlescent like the rest of Stellan’s scars.
“How is that possible?” Cole snapped.
“I knew Avery wouldn’t get so attached to some nobody Keeper just because he’s pretty,” Lydia went on, almost proudly.
Stellan let go of my hand.
“This has to do with the thirteen thing that keeps getting mentioned, doesn’t it?” Lydia said.
On the coffee table, the bracelet was still smoking.
“But if the thirteenth thing is a person . . . ,” Lydia continued. “It means . . . a thirteenth family of the Circle?”
“But there were twelve Diadochi,” Cole said, contempt and suspicion in equal measure evident in his voice.
“And Alexander.” Understanding dawned on Lydia’s face. “That’s the thirteenth family, isn’t it? Everyone thinks he had no heir, but what if he did?”
“But—” Cole sputtered. “But that means—the mandate says—he’s the One?”
“Anyone from that bloodline.” Lydia perched on a floral ottoman, her gun still in her hand. Despite everything, I was impressed she was putting it all together so quickly. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“But the bloodline of the One is—they’re supposed to rule over—” Cole pointed the gun at Stellan.
Lydia jumped between them. “That means he’s important. We need him.”
Grimacing, Cole turned back to Luc.
And then there was a popping noise. The gold bracelet snapped into two.
We all gaped at it. Lydia reached for it with her bloody hand, but Elodie said weakly, “No! You don’t want to destroy whatever’s inside.”
Lydia handed the bracelet to Jack. “Open it.”
He took it, but put it behind his back. “We got you this far. Let us help Elodie.”
Lydia sighed. “Fine.”
Stellan leaped up and was laying Elodie on the couch and putting pressure on her wound in seconds.
“Now open it,” Lydia said to Jack. “And, Cole, keep an eye on the maid.”
“Give me the other gun,” Cole said, gesturing to where they’d made Jack lay his on the floor. Lydia handed it to him, and he kept his own trained on Luc, and Jack’s on the rest of us.
“Hurry up,” Lydia said.
Jack met my eyes. What else could we do? He tugged gently, and it came apart.
Jack glanced up at the rest of us, then pulled a folded piece of paper out of the bracelet, and very carefully straightened and unfolded it.
The paper was only a couple inches wide, and three times that length. I could tell it was about to crumble in Jack’s hands. He squinted at the tiny writing.
“Read it,” Lydia said. “Need I remind you that we could just kill you all and take the bracelets now that they’re open? I don’t know why I’m being so nice, but you may as well take advantage of it.”
I knew why. She still hoped that somehow, after everything she’d done, that I’d still want to be one of them. She knew I wouldn’t if she killed my friends. As crazy as Lydia was, she actually cared about her family.
“Read the scroll,” Cole demanded. “I’m tired of the stalling.”
Jack looked around at all of us, then cleared his throat. “It’s in French. At the top it says, Transcription of writings discovered in the tomb of Alexander the Great, in his own city, within the thirteenth at the center of twelve. This is the treasure for which I’d searched half my life. There is more—a remedy—but I fear it will only make matters worse, so that I left buried. I warn you out of duty to the Circle. Were this to fall into enemy hands, it would mean nothing but ruin. It’s signed Napoleon Bonaparte, 1801.”
We glanced at each other, confused. That made it sound like Napoleon was going to tell us what he found in the tomb, not where the tomb actually was.
“Is that all?” Lydia said.
Jack shook his head and read, “Dearest Helena, I hope you are safe and have not discovered this too late to rid the—traitors . . . no, usurpers,” he said. “Rid the usurpers of their power and take back what is rightfully yours.” We all stole confused looks at one another. Usurpers? “Since the moment you were born,” Jack continued, “I knew I’d do anything to protect you the way I couldn’t protect my son, the ruler of the world as far as you can see, or his son after him—your father.”
Lydia drew in a sharp breath. “My son,” she murmured. “And his son after him. The person writing this is—”
“Olympias,” Elodie croaked. Stellan was tying the arms of his tuxedo shirt around her torso. “Alexander the Great’s mother.”
“Alexander’s son died young, though,” I thought out loud.
“He was a teenager,” Jack said. “Not necessarily too young to have a child.”
“That’s who she’s writing to,” I breathed. “That child. Helena. Olympias’s great-granddaughter.”
We all got quiet, and Jack kept reading. “After they stole my son’s dynasty, the Diadochi wished to be linked in such a way that they’d be truly blood. Brothers.”
“Stole?” I said.
“And usurpers,” Stellan agreed. “Keep going.”
“But they had underestimated a woman for the last time. The Order of Olympias and I—”
“The Order,” Lydia whispered. “Do you think—”
“Yes,” Colette said shortly. “It has to be.”
Jack started again. “The Order of Olympias and I linked them as they demanded, but they could not know I’d planted the seed of their destruction.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms, and we all looked at one another silently. There was no denying it now. Olympias wasn’t talking about the Diadochi as Alexander’s chosen heirs, as the Circle always believed. She was talking about them as thieves—of power, of her line’s birthright as kings.
Jack held up the scroll. “That’s all on this one.”
Everyone looked at the other bracelet, then at me and Stellan. He had just finished wrapping Elodie up, and now sat in just a white T-shirt. Lydia jumped up from the ottoman, unceremoniously wiped more blood from his arm, then my chest, and swiped it onto the lock on the second bracelet. Minutes later, we pulled out the second scroll, and Jack started reading again.
“All you’ll need to fulfill the Diadochi’s destiny is a female of the line. Be sure she has the violet eyes—that will ensure she has enough of the blood, in the correct configuration.” Jack looked up at me before he continued. “Her blood, together with yours, will create”—his voice wavered—“will create a plague.”
“A plague?” Stellan said. Cole laughed, harsh and ugly. Everyone else just looked stunned.
“Keep reading,” I said.
“Repeat the Bacchic rites performed when they were linked, with the united blood in their cups. Only the barest drop of the virus is necessary, and the kingdom shall be yours, to the ends of the world.”
We were all quiet for a long moment. Finally, Elodie broke the silence. “The curse of Olympias,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed, but it was a huge relief that she was with it enough to understand what was going on. “I’ve heard of it. I never th
ought . . .”
“Does that mean this was the weapon in the tomb?” said Cole. “I thought it was supposed to be a weapon against the Order.”
Lydia curled her lip at him. “You still care about the Order? According to this, the Order were ineffectual even two thousand years ago. This has to be what the mandate meant the whole time. We thought it meant the Order because it was talking about the greatest enemies. But it’s the Circle who have always been one another’s enemies.”
Next to me, my mom shuddered.
“Were you guys listening?” I said. “Anyone in the Circle could get this virus if they ingested our blood. You wouldn’t even be immune.”
“Nobody lick Avery or Stellan,” Elodie said weakly. I gawked at my bloodied hands, which had suddenly turned into weapons.
Lydia looked at her own hands, too, holding them farther away from her body. “Napoleon said on that scroll that there’s a remedy in the tomb. We can still find it. And if not, we’ll figure it out. Modern medicine has plenty on whatever scientific advances this woman thought she discovered.”
Cole cut her off. “So all we need is to mix their blood and have someone drink it?”
“Not even drink it,” Lydia said. “From the sound of this, it’d take just a drop. We might not even have to infect anyone. Just the fact that we have this . . .” I could see the wheels turning in her head. “I don’t know what we can do with it, but we can do something.”
“Not without our blood, you can’t,” Stellan piped up.
Lydia looked down at her hands again, and at the knife on the ottoman, and I could see in that second what she was thinking.
“We have to wash it off where it’s already mixed,” I said under my breath. “Off of us, and Lydia.”
Jack heard me, and was nodding. We both glanced at Cole, who still had his own gun trained on Luc, and Jack’s on us. If we tried to run . . .
“Get ready,” Jack said.
“For what?” I whispered, but before I could put it together, Jack took a deep breath and vaulted out of his chair.
Cole pointed the gun at him calmly.