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Authors: Carrie Ryan

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BOOK: Divide and Conquer
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Sera stepped forward and squinted at the poorly drawn waterfowl. Then she saw something that made her lungs tighten. “It
was
a message for us,” she said, tracing her fingers over two numbers: 34 and 88. “This is a code for my name. Thirty-four is the number on the periodic table for the element selenium. Eighty-eight is the number for radium. The abbreviations for them are Se and Ra —
Sera
.” She cringed a bit. “I know that makes me sound like a total geek.”

“No,” Riq responded with a smile. “You’re talking to a guy whose idea of a good time is tracing the etymology of obscure words. I think it’s pretty cool that you came up with that.”

Sera cleared her throat, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to that kind of compliment. “Anyway, it was always an inside joke I had with Dak, but his parents knew about it, too. Do you think they left it for us? How old is this wall, anyway?”

Just then, Dak leapt the last few feet to the ground, landing between them. “Guys!” His eyes were alight with excitement. “You’re not going to believe it. The entire Seine is filled with them for as far as I could see! It’s like a huge logjam
out there. You can’t even see the water. They’re everywhere!”

Sera couldn’t help smiling. She’d been Dak’s best friend for as long as she could remember, and she knew he was waiting for her to ask the inevitable question: “What’s everywhere?”

His grin widened. “Vikings! There must be seven hundred ships out there — probably more if you count the barques. Those are the little boats.” He explained that last bit to Riq.

The older boy gave Dak a forced smile. “Thanks, got that. Linguist here, remember? My vocabulary is just fine.”

Dak ignored him. “This is incredible! There have always been debates about how many boats the Vikings attacked Paris with. Some scholars said they stretched for two leagues but others argued there weren’t that many based on the application of operational space in a stationary —”

“Dak, focus.” Sera rolled her eyes, but not in a mean way. She was used to putting up with his ramblings about obscure historical details. And to be honest, she kind of liked it because it was so, well . . . so
Dak
.

He glanced between her and Riq. “According to the history books, there are thirty thousand Vikings on the other side of that wall, preparing for the great Siege of Paris!”

Something sank inside Sera, but Riq was the one to voice what she was feeling. “Did the history books
happen to give a date for this sack?”

Dak nodded vigorously. “November 25, 885.”

Sera sucked in a long breath. “That’s . . . tomorrow,” she said.

But Dak wasn’t finished yet. “Though some historians put the date at November 24 based on the account of one of the monks inside the fortified city. . . .”

Riq looked at Sera, and his expression matched hers. Before either of them could say anything more there was a great blast of horns from the other side of the wall and the roar of thirty thousand men screaming at once. The ground trembled from the force of so many feet pounding against it as the massive horde of Vikings raced toward the city.

Dak seemed utterly unconcerned. “Huh.” His face scrunched up in concentration. “I guess it was the twenty-fourth after all. I can’t wait until we get back and I can correct the —”

“Dak!” Sera shouted. “The Vikings are sacking Paris and we’re
inside
the city! They’re about to attack
us
!”

D
AK DIDN’T
quite understand why Sera was so panicked. After all, there was a wall
and
a river between them and the approaching horde of Vikings. While the Paris of 1792 that they’d just left had sprawled far into the countryside, the Paris they’d arrived in was little more than a fortress on an island in the middle of the Seine River
.
Sure, the stone wall ringing the island was already about four hundred years old and was crumbling in places, but it still gave them
some
protection.

Besides, if he knew his history (which he always did), the invasion wouldn’t really get under way until the leaders of each side met to discuss the terms of Paris’s surrender. Unfortunately for the people of Paris, surrendering wouldn’t be enough to keep the Vikings from stealing provisions and setting most of the island on fire — it was just how Vikings did things. And, okay, thought Dak, they probably shouldn’t stick around for too much of that. But they still had time to explore the area and figure out the Break before getting worried.

Even so, it wouldn’t be good to get hit by a random arrow, and he could tell Sera was freaking out, so he let her drag him and Riq to the nearest shelter, an empty house nestled between two bakeries. The air inside smelled of yeast and butter, and dust covered most of the surfaces, causing the spare bits of light sneaking through the cracks in the tile roof to sparkle. The space was narrow, and they wove their way between wooden support pillars toward the deepest recesses of the shelter. Just as they took cover another wave of arrows and rocks flew over the wall, raining down outside.

Thankfully, it looked like everyone else had the same idea as they did and had found someplace safe to hide out. Paris looked like a ghost town. But it didn’t sound like one. Even inside their tiny shack, the noise of so many Vikings racing toward the island was tremendously loud. It reminded Dak of going to the biennial SQ games with his parents and the roar of the cheering crowds. Except this crowd was probably more deadly than a couple thousand sports fans.

Now that they were clear of all the falling debris, Sera pulled the SQuare from its satchel. A portable tablet computer given to them by the Hystorians, it was their only remaining connection to the future where, or rather
when
, they’d come from. He noticed her hands shook ever so slightly as she typed out the password to access the files.

“Okay, whiz
kid,” Riq said to Dak as he leaned against a rough stone wall. “You’re the one who’s always bragging about your historical prowess. Any idea why we’re here and what’s going on?”

Dak let a satisfied grin split his face. “Now look who’s interested in what I have to say.” Dak wondered for a second if he’d really get in all that much trouble if he pushed Riq out into the debris storm. He thought better of it when Sera raised her head from the SQuare and scowled at both of them.

“Keep your voices down,” she hissed, though Dak was pretty sure her whisper was louder than her normal tone of voice. “We haven’t spoken to anyone here yet, which means our translation devices aren’t set for the correct local language.”

Before they’d been sent back in time by Hystorians Brint and Mari to fix the Breaks in history, all three of them had been given earpieces and a tiny device to fit over one of their teeth that would translate anything they said. The only catch was that they had to hear someone talk before the device knew which language to use.

“Sorry,” Dak mumbled, but he still took the opportunity to smirk at Riq. Riq was the language expert — his parents had even invented the translation tool — and he should have been the one to remind them to stay quiet.

“Oh, for the love of mincemeat,” Sera muttered. Apparently she didn’t even have to glance up from the SQuare to know Dak and Riq were staring each other down to see who looked away first. (Riq totally forfeited when he turned to look at Sera.)

The SQuare’s screen flickered a few times. “Any idea if they had time to upload anything on this Break?” Sera asked Riq. “I hate to think about being cast adrift with no help.”

Riq frowned and for once it seemed to Dak like the older boy might admit to not having all the answers. “I think they were able to get most everything on there,” he said. “Are the files not showing up?”

Sera shook her head. “Some of it. I guess until we know how many of the files are corrupted, we just have to work with the information we have.” Dak came to look over her shoulder as she chose the option for learning more about the third Break.

A few words and a long string of numbers flashed up on the screen.

Leave a message after the beep:
326274827332 744332413373433231 8121523274 7121734374 71322123323382535393

Dak groaned. “What kind of a message are they expecting us to leave?” He was good with words — facts and details, especially historical ones. Numbers just tended to swim in his head unless they were specific dates. In fact, sometimes in math class the only way he could remember his multiplication tables was to attach each set to a series of historical events.

He watched helplessly now as both Sera’s and Riq’s eyes tracked back and forth across the screen. This was so not how he envisioned the Siege of Paris going. Thirty thousand Vikings nearby and he was stuck inside a bakery with two geeks more interested in mathy stuff.

“It could be a code or a cipher,” Riq suggested.


Hmmm,
” Sera murmured. “I guess it could be a monoalphabetic substitution cipher — like maybe an affine?”

Even their conversation was boring! While they were engrossed in their boring boringness, Dak began to ease his way to the door. He only wanted to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside, get a feel for what was going on.

Already the ground was littered with stones of all sizes, some larger than his head and a few so big they could have crushed a cow if any had been milling about (thankfully, it appeared none had).

Dak breathed deeply, letting a smile cross his face. For as long as he could remember, he’d been in love with history. He even read most historical accounts in old books rather than on SQuares, because he loved how history smelled.

But now it felt like the words he’d read had always been dry. They’d tried to capture past events, to transport him there in his mind, but as he stood on the Île de la Cité, the Island of Paris, Dak realized that the books had been mere ghosts. Reality was so much cooler. Smellier, too.

Just then, the bombardment stopped, and the cacophony of war horns and shouts from the other side of the wall was replaced with the sound of ringing church bells. Dak watched as a contingent of Vikings started to make their way into the city over a low stone bridge that stretched across the Seine from the north bank
of the river.

Dak wanted nothing more than to run forward and get a better look, but Sera already had her hand firm on his shoulder. “Don’t even think about it. We have a Hystorian to find. Here, help us figure out what this means.”

She held out the SQuare, and Dak read the highlighted lines:

To find the person whom you seek
Upset the clue within:
To lead you to the Hystorian
Find a roofless inn.

Dak stared at the words, but he had absolutely no clue what they meant. “This should be Riq’s gig — he’s the expert on things like this,” he said. “I’m just the history buff. And as your guide through all past occurrences, I think our time would be better spent eavesdropping.”

He pointed toward a small group of Parisians striding through the inner city. Many of them were priests, with ornately decorated tunics over their cowls. Others were soldiers, their own tunics less ornate and complemented with chain mail.

Dak knew an official welcoming party when he saw one. The priests and soldiers were on their way to meet with the Viking contingent on the bridge, and Dak desperately wanted to be there for that discussion. Although he figured the important stuff wouldn’t happen until they’d all gathered in some central location.

“Those are the guys who make decisions around here,” Dak said. “The Hystorian is probably one of them, or on his way to wherever they’re headed. That’s where the history is going to happen, and that’s where we need to be!”

“You’re forgetting that we don’t look like Parisians,” Sera argued.

“Well, technically we
are
dressed like Parisians. Just Parisians of another century. We’re very fashion forward!” Dak tugged on the ruffles at his wrist and wagged his eyebrows.

“Dak . . .” Sera’s tone of voice left no question — she was getting fed up.

Dak put a hand on her arm. He and Sera had known each other for a really long time, since before they could talk, actually, but sometimes he didn’t understand her at all. These were real, actual, honest-to-Thor
Vikings
. How could she not want to get closer to them? “Trust me,” he said. “Have I steered you wrong before? Besides, I think I know what’s about to happen. And it could be crucial to our mission here.”

Riq looked up from where he was pawing through a low wooden trunk on the other side of the room.

Dak took a moment to relish their undivided attention before diving in. “The small contingent of Vikings crossing into the city is headed by Siegfried, their leader. Well, I don’t know if
leader
is the right word since Viking society wasn’t strictly ordered the same as ours. Usually power wasn’t quite so concentrated —”

Sera cleared her throat and began tapping her foot.

“Er, right. Anyway, just before the Vikings sack Paris, Siegfried has a little chat with their bishop, Gauzelin, and asks him to hand the city over. The bishop agrees. The Parisians figure everything’s cool — so they’re pretty surprised when the Vikings attack the next morning.”

BOOK: Divide and Conquer
9.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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