The Maze of Bones (The 39 Clues #1)(44)

"Why should these guys help us?" Dan asked. "I mean, we don't have a library card or anything."

But Amy was already climbing the steps. For the first time in days, she felt absolutely confident. This was her world. She knew what to do.

The librarians came to their aid like soldiers responding to a battle cry. Amy told them she was researching Benjamin Franklin, and within minutes Amy, Dan, and Nellie were sitting at a table in a conference room, examining reproductions of Franklin documents -- some so rare, the librarians told her, the only copies existed in Paris.

"Yeah, here's a rare grocery list," Dan muttered. "Wow."

He was about to toss it aside when Amy grabbed his wrist.

"Dan, you never know what's important. Back then there weren't many stores. If you wanted to buy something, you had to send the merchant an order and have your stuff shipped. What did Franklin buy?"

Dan sighed. '"Please to send the following: 3 --

Treatise on Cyder Making by Cave;

2 -- Nelson on the Government of Children,

8 vol., by Dodsley; 1 Qty. -- Iron Solute;

Letters from a Russian Officer -- '"

"Hold it," Amy said. '"Iron Solute.' Where have I heard that before?"

"It was on that other list," Dan said without hesitation, "in one of the letters we saw in Philadelphia."

Amy frowned. "But iron solute isn't a book. This whole list is books except for that."

"What's iron solute, anyway?" Dan asked.

"Oh, guys, I know this!" Nellie chimed in. She held up her hands and closed her eyes like she was remembering the answer for a test. "It's like a chemical solution, right?

They use it for metalworking and printing and a bunch of other stuff."

Amy stared at her. "How did you know that?"

"Hey, I took chemistry last semester. I remember 'cause the professor was talking about, like, how they make high-end cooking equipment. Franklin probably used iron solute for his ink when he was a printer."

"That's great," Dan muttered. "Except for the fact that it's completely unimportant]

Now can we get back to the magic box coordinates?"

Amy still felt something nagging in the back of her head, like she was missing a connection, but she rifled through the rest of the papers. Finally, she unfolded a huge yellowing document that turned out to be an old-fashioned map of Paris. Her eyes widened.

"This is it." Amy put her finger proudly over a spot on the map. "A church. St-Pierre de Montmartre. That's where we need to go."

"How can you be sure?" Nellie asked.

"The numbers form a grid, see?" She pointed to the margins. "This is an old surveyor's map by a couple of French scientists, Compte de Buffon and Thomas-Francois D'Alibard. I remember reading about them. They were the first to test Franklin's lightning rod theories. After they proved the rods worked, King Louis XVI ordered them to draw up a plan to outfit all the major buildings in Paris. That church was the fourteenth installation, at coordinates five by twelve. Franklin would've known about the work. He was really proud of how the French took to his ideas. That has to be it. I'll bet you a box of French chocolate we'll find an entrance to the Catacombs at the church."

Dan looked doubtful. Outside, the rain was really coming down. Thunder shook the windows of the library. "What if the Kabras get there first?"

"We have to make sure that doesn't happen," Amy said. "Come on!"

CHAPTER 17

Dan felt like one of the Catacomb skulls -- hollowed out inside.

He was determined not to show it. He was embarrassed enough that he'd cried on the train platform. But he kept reaching for his backpack and it wasn't there. He couldn't stop thinking about his parents' picture, whisked away and lost in the Métro tunnels.

Maybe it had been ripped to shreds, or maybe his parents would be smiling in the darkness forever with no company but the rats. All he'd wanted to do was make them proud. Now he didn't know if his parents would ever forgive him.

The rain was still coming down. Thunder boomed across the sky. Every few minutes a flash of lightning would illuminate the Paris skyline.

If Dan had been in a better mood, he would've wanted to explore Montmartre. It looked like a cool neighborhood. The whole area was one big hill, topped with a massive white-domed church that glowed in the rain.

"That's where we're going?" Dan asked.

Amy shook her head. "That's the Sacré-Coeur Basilica. The smaller church, St-Pierre, is just below it. You can't see it from here."

"Two churches right together?"

"Yeah."

"Why wouldn't Franklin choose the big fancy one?"

Amy shrugged. "Wasn't his style. He liked simple architecture. He would've thought it amusing to choose a small plain church in the shadow of a big fancy one."

That didn't make much sense to Dan, but he was too wet and tired to argue. They hiked up the narrow streets, passing nightclubs with music blaring and neon signs that gleamed against the wet pavement.

"I used to have a nightlife," Nellie sighed.

As they climbed toward the top of the hill, Amy told them what she knew about the neighborhood -- how famous artists used to live here like Picasso, Vincent van Gogh, and Salvador Dali.