Vespers Rising (The 39 Clues #11)(16)

“Mother!” Madeleine screamed, running down the hill.

As she passed the stable, the beggar woman moved. Springing to her feet, she grasped Madeleine by the neck and dragged her into the shadows.

Over the years, Madeleine’s training had included ancient fighting techniques to subdue men of great size and strength — but nothing for homeless old women in alleyways. “Let go, you old buzzard!” she cried, struggling against an iron grip.

As she whirled and lashed, the old lady countered every move. “Good grief, will you stop making such a racket!” she finally cried out. “They’ll hear us!”

Madeleine froze in mid struggle. She fell to the ground and looked up into her adversary’s face. “Mother?”

Olivia Cahill pulled back her woolen hood. “This old buzzard just saved your life,” she said.

“I’m so sorry!” Madeleine protested.

Olivia put a gentle finger on her daughter’s lips. “We must be quiet, and quick—”

Below them a voice boomed, loud and angry. “Open in the name of Lord Vesper!”

Vesper.

The name hit Madeleine like a shift in air pressure. As if the entire world were converging on her, pressing against her heart and brain. All her life, Damien Vesper had seemed more bogeyman than real — the shadow in the closet, the monster under the bed. He will find us or die trying, Mother had said. And he will stop at nothing to get the secrets of the 39 Clues.

Some monsters, Olivia had warned, were real. And to ward off this one, all Madeleine had needed to do was keep her mouth shut over the years.

One simple request, and she had failed.

“I-it’s my f-f-fault, Mother!” Her stammer had returned with a vengeance. Madeleine felt the weight of her own betrayal. She had not only put Xenophilus’s life in peril but exposed her and Olivia to their nemesis.

“Hush, darling daughter. It was only a matter of time. They have been trying for nearly two decades.” Olivia’s voice was parched. Reaching down into the folds of her ragged dress, she pulled out a small leather box. “Consider how lucky we are that we avoided them long enough for you to be prepared.”

Prepared?

Madeleine felt anything but. Yes, for years she’d been learning the secrets of the 39 Clues, undergoing physical and mental training, tracking rumors about her siblings. Still, it had all seemed so … abstract. She had been born after the explosion that killed her father. She’d never met her brothers and sisters. Somehow, the Cahill saga seemed more legend than real, like the tale of the monster Vesper.

Another boom, like a cannon shot, echoed from down below.

Olivia flinched. “I had such hopes — we would outlast him, you would never face him in your lifetime…. But so be it. We will act quickly and decisively. Take this box — and please, recite for me your promises!”

Madeleine grabbed the box with shaky fingers. Mother had called this the Endgame Strategy. She hated the name. “B-b-but you will come, too, won’t you?”

“He doesn’t know you exist — so you must go forth alone, as planned. Your brothers and sisters are full of anger. They blame one another for your father’s death. We will need to work on them. Be careful, and remember: Smartest always beats strongest. I will destroy what little is left of your father’s work, and then I shall follow. Now, please, let me hear the promises. ...”

Madeleine’s mind raced, trying to remember. Father had a ring. It was an ugly thing, but it contained secrets. Secrets Olivia had never explained. Keep Father’s ring safe. That was Number One. Number Two was —

Another sickening crack rent the air. A volley of triumphant voices.

The men were in.

Olivia stiffened. “I will go in the back way and hope they do not find the hidden door. Go!”

“But — the promises —” Madeleine protested.

“Just remember them, Madeleine, and whatever you do, stay alive. And one more thing. Do not look back.” Tears in her eyes, Olivia cupped her daughter’s face and planted a kiss on her cheek. “And may God go with you always!”

Before Madeleine could say another word, her mother was gone. Into the shadows and through a secret back door to the apothecary.

Madeleine stepped toward the door in pursuit. Her ear suddenly pinged with a high-pitched whoosh. She felt a trickle of blood down her neck. An arrow.

A finger’s breadth to the left and it would have split her brain.

“You! Come out of the shadow!” a voice called up from below.

He doesn’t know you exist.

There was work to be done. The Endgame was afoot.

Madeleine turned her back to the voice. Vesper could not see her face. She began to run, away from the stable, up the hill. She heard shouts and felt the zing of arrows all around her.

She heard another voice shout from below: “You imbecile, it’s a lassie — too young for the wife! Spare my lord’s arrows and help prepare the powder!”

Madeleine darted around the next corner. She knelt by the brick wall of the bakery and caught her breath. Blood had pooled in the well of her collarbone. Carefully, she touched the wound, but it seemed already to be healing.

The powder. What had he meant by —?

A sudden explosion rocked the stones beneath her feet. Inside the bakery, shock waves caused rolls and bread loaves to clatter to the floor.