Vespers Rising (The 39 Clues #11)(13)

“Gideon,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “The children are gone. I couldn’t stop them.”

Surely Gideon hadn’t meant for that to happen.

Shortly after Luke had left, Jane had chased after him. Neither had returned. Olivia had finally shaken herself out of her misery and sent Katherine to find them. A half hour later, Katherine had returned and reported that a boat was missing from the cove. Luke and Jane had apparently made good their threat and left for the mainland.

Thomas and Katherine’s grief quickly turned to anger. They blamed their father for not telling them everything, for trusting Vesper and Luke. They blamed Olivia for not stopping Gideon’s madness. Luke and Jane had the right idea, they decided. It was time to leave this cursed family.

Their harsh words stung Olivia. She pleaded with them to stay, but Thomas and Katherine were soon gone as well. Olivia’s spirit was so shattered she did not even follow. She stumbled toward the ruins of the house, hoping against hope that she would find Gideon alive. She needed his strength.

Now Olivia was absolutely alone. Or almost so. She hugged her barely swollen belly — praying the unborn child was still safe.

Gideon and the children hadn’t known. She’d been waiting for the right moment, sensing that the stress in the family was too great to break such news. But if she’d told Gideon sooner, would he have been more careful? Would he still be alive?

A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. A fifth child on the way, and now she was a widow. Her other children had fled. She prayed they would come back when their grief and anger subsided. Surely they would not leave her for good.

But something told her that their family had permanently shattered. More important — the future of the entire world had splintered. Together, her children might’ve completed their father’s work. Separately, they had gone into the world with secrets powerful enough to change history. Judging from what Gideon had told her, each of them carried a serum that would fundamentally alter their chemistry, instilling greatness and talents to them and their descendants for generations to come. They might be saints or monsters, kings or villains, but Olivia feared that separately, the children of the Cahills would never achieve Gideon’s dreams. They would keep fighting, struggling with one another as they had always done, but now their squabbles would shape the course of civilization. The world would be their battleground.

We will be together again, Gideon had said — a cruel last memory of her husband. She looked down at his lifeless form and clasped his fingers. His gold ring glinted, its strange rows of engraved symbols even more pronounced with soot filling the grooves.


Many times she’d pleaded with Gideon to hide the ring or send it away, but he’d insisted that he could only keep it safe by keeping it close. Now that burden fell to Olivia.

Above all, Lord Vesper must never have it, Gideon once told her. If he asks about it, tell him it has sentimental value. Perhaps an heirloom from your family, which you gave to me as a token of our marriage, eh? Perhaps that will keep him from demanding it. The man is like a crow. Shiny things catch his eye.

Olivia’s eyes fixed on the golden band. Blood rushed in her ears, and she was so overwhelmed with dread and grief that she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until Damien Vesper said, “My dear Olivia. I’m so sorry.”

Vesper so rarely spoke to her, at first she was too astonished to respond.

He was dressed in black velvet, with soft leather boots and a silver chain around his neck. His expression was appropriately mournful, but his eyes were bright and greedy. Like a crow, Gideon had remarked.

Vesper’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword. She noticed his eyebrows had been scorched clean off. Behind him stood two guards — men she’d never seen before. Already he’d replaced the two he’d lost in the fire.

“You demon,” Olivia spat. “You did this. Your men are in the ruins, dead. You killed my husband.”

Vesper’s expression hardened. “I assure you, madam, I did not. As for my men, I’m sure they came here to help. I grieve as much as you do. I consider this fire a great tragedy.”

Olivia realized that he meant it but for all the wrong reasons. He cared nothing for his dead servants. He barely looked at poor Gideon’s body. Instead, Vesper was mourning the ruins of the lab — all those valuable secrets gone.

“Gideon thwarted you,” she said. “Whatever you were looking for, it’s been destroyed. Though I suppose you’ll want to pick through the ruins yourself.”

He met her eyes. Olivia did not flinch. Vesper had a reputation for reading faces, but Olivia was an actress of great talent. She’d grown up in a family of older brothers, all of them smart and strong. She could lie as needed, and swaggering men like Lord Vesper did not scare her.

“You know of Gideon’s research, madam?” he asked.

“I’m a woman,” she said flatly. “What would I know of such things?”

Vesper hesitated, then nodded. Olivia marveled at how blind men could be. Vesper might be a genius, but women and children were alien species to him. Gideon had been right. Hiding the formula with his family had made it nearly invisible to Lord Vesper.

“Your family is safe?” he asked, though he did not seem terribly concerned.

“Gone to the mainland,” she said. “They could not bear the sight of these ruins. Or of you, my lord.”