The Secret Cipher (11 page)

A man was walking toward us, a phone held in one hand. He was tall and skinny, wearing black pants, a black shirt, and a black fedora. His stride was fast and determined. He pushed a little girl out of his way.

“Run!” Jax said.

We turned on our heels and headed in the opposite direction. Once again, there was no plan. How could we have a plan? None of this made sense. If the girl was delivering the urn to Ricardo, then he'd know she had it. But he thought
we
had it. He'd followed us. He knew we were visiting Juniper. He—

Something crashed behind us. I looked over my shoulder. The tower of energy drinks tumbled to the floor, the bottles rolling in all directions. Neither Jax nor I had bumped into it, so why had it fallen over? Ricardo stumbled.

“Keep running!” a voice ordered. A shape darted in front of me. Red braids swung back and forth as the girl grabbed a stack of folding chairs and threw
them to the ground behind us. Like a bulldozer, she pushed though the crowd. She knocked into a kid carrying an armful of books. When she grabbed a stand of toy swords and tossed it behind us, I realized she was creating the obstacle course on purpose. I might have pointed out that she was engaging in vandalism, but this was one occasion when breaking the law was okay by me. She raced in front of Jax and motioned for us to follow. Was she leading us
away
from Ricardo?

What was going on? Who was the good guy and who was the bad guy?

Our capes flying, Jax and I tore after her. I glanced back again. We'd gained some ground. Ricardo was caught in the sword chaos, as people rushed to the scene trying to help clean the mess. It suddenly looked like we might outrun him. But another problem reared its head—we'd attracted the attention of three security guards. As we dashed out of the exhibition hall and past the registration tables, the guards joined the chase. “Stop!” one of them called. The entrance wasn't far. Only a few more yards to run and a group of Klingons to get past.

I squeezed between plastic armored chests and fake battle weapons. Jax stopped and said something to the biggest one, a guy who must have been three
hundred pounds. He growled and said something in the language of his people. The next thing I knew, they were stomping away, like an army on the warpath. The entrance was free and clear. I turned again, catching sight of the Klingons blocking Ricardo's path. They were waving their arms and jumping up and down.

“What did you say to them?” I asked Jax.

“I told them that the man chasing us was Spock in disguise.”

Brilliant,
I thought.

The girl raced toward the exit and out she went, her braids swaying with her long strides. Jax was next. As I emerged from the convention hall, a soft breeze brushed across my face, carrying the scent of seawater. Immediate relief washed over me. No elbow-to-elbow crowd. No loud music, no blaring announcements. Cars drove past. A boat honked in the harbor. Would life return to normal?

But what was that screeching sound?

It was like a James Bond movie. Pedestrians jumped aside as Tyler's car skidded to a stop right in front of us. Huh? I looked around. This wasn't a road. He'd driven onto the sidewalk. That wasn't legal! Mom would kill him!

The girl grabbed the front passenger door and
yanked it open. Then she flung herself inside. Jax opened the back and dove in. I looked over my shoulder. Through the glass entryway doors I could see a tall, dark figure rushing down the hallway. And three security guards.

“Ethan!” Jax cried.

I scrambled in next to her and slammed the door shut.

“Well, hello there,” Tyler said to the girl. “This is unexpected. Did you come back to see me?” He smiled.

“No time to talk,” Jax said. She and I were breathing like out-of-shape racehorses. “Ricardo is chasing us!”

“There he is!” I announced as Ricardo burst out of the building, the guards on his tail.

“I advise you to move your chariot,” the girl told Tyler.

“Go, go, go!” Jax hollered.

Tires screeched as Tyler did a 180-degree turn. A car horn blared as we bounced over the curb and pulled onto the road. To avoid a head-on collision, Tyler slammed the brakes. Jax and I were thrown against the front seat. Another car honked. We desperately searched for the seat belts. Just as we strapped in, Tyler accelerated and we were thrown
backward. “You're going to get us killed,” Jax complained, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Don't tell the getaway driver how to drive,” he snapped.

I guessed that it wasn't the appropriate time to remind them, once again, about the dangers of teenage driving.

Both Jax and I looked out the back window. Ricardo stood on the sidewalk, his face clenched as if he was about to have a heart attack. I'd never seen anyone look so angry. He yanked his phone from his pocket. Ringing filled Tyler's car. My phone's screen glowed.
Incoming Call: Ricardo
. “He's trying to track us!” Jax cried. “Don't answer it!”

As blood trickled from my left nostril, I opened my privacy settings and disabled the GPS tracking device. Then I muted the phone. “He can't track us now.”

Jax tore off her mask and fell against the seat. “That was so close. He almost caught us.”

I struggled to get my mask off. As I pushed a wad of tissue against my nostril, Jax cringed. She's always gagged at the sight of blood. It was one of the few things that grossed her out. “You broke a lot of stuff,” I told the girl. “We could get in serious trouble. What if the security guards take down our
license plate number and call the police?” As I tilted my head back, I imagined Mom and Dad getting a phone call from the festival organizers, or from the Boston police chief. I'd promised I wouldn't let Jax get me into any more trouble.

“Somebody better tell me what's going on,” Tyler said. “Where's the urn?”

Jax leaned over the seat and pointed at the girl's leather bag.

Tyler gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. The road led us over a bridge. Boston Harbor lay on our right, a channel on our left. He glanced nervously at the girl, who was hugging her bag to her chest. “I don't want that urn in my car. I don't want to be anywhere near it,” he said through clenched teeth.

I didn't want to be near the urn, either. But our goal was to keep it away from people like Ricardo. I looked at Jax. She was deep in thought, her eyes narrowed, probably planning her next move.

“The urn will not harm you,” the girl said, wrapping her arms tighter. “Do not try to take it from me.”

Jax and I looked at each other. Was the urn having the same effect on the girl as it had on Jax? Did she think of herself as the protector? Would she
do anything to keep it safe?

“Listen,” Jax told her. “That urn makes you feel weird. It gets into your head. It will tell you to protect it. It'll make you think that we're bad, but we're not bad. We want to do the right thing.”

“And what is the right thing?” She turned halfway around. Her hair sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through the windshield.

“We want to give it back to our great-aunt,” Jax said. “It belongs to her. She is the rightful owner.”

The girl's voice remained calm. “That is incorrect. I am the rightful owner.”

Despite my nosebleed, I kept looking back, to see if anyone was following. So far, it looked like we were safe. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” Tyler admitted. He followed the road to the right. The harbor was still in view and we passed a sign for an aquarium.

“You are taking me to Poseidon,” the girl said as she looked out the passenger window.

“Huh?” Tyler asked “Where?”

“There is a fountain nearby, in which Poseidon is seated. I must return to that place immediately. My quest is to return the urns.”

Jax gasped. “Did you say urns? As in more than one?”

Tyler smiled. “Did you say
quest
? As in ‘a hero's journey'?” It was one of his favorite words. Almost equal to “trophy.”

The girl didn't answer, just kept looking out the window. When Tyler slowed down for a red light, she threw open the passenger door and bolted from the car. “Where are you going?” he called.

“Home,” she yelled. She dashed up the sidewalk, then turned into a park.

“Crud,” Tyler said with a groan. “I keep forgetting to ask her name.”

“Her name?” Jax unbuckled her seat belt and flung herself at my window so she could get a better view. “Who cares about her name? She's got the urn! Pull over!”

Tyler pulled the car to the curb. The girl hurried up to a large fountain, then stood in front of it. “I knew it,” Jax said as she unlocked the door. “She's waiting for someone. She's going to hand over the urn. We have to grab it before it's too late.”

Tyler shook his head. “No way. I'm not touching it. That thing almost killed me.”

“You know I can't touch it. It makes me crazy.” Jax reached across my lap and pushed open the door. “Ethan, you have to do it. Hurry.”

This seemed ridiculous, at best. Tyler was twice my
size and fueled by caffeine. He could easily overpower the girl. And Jax was twice as fast as me and had one setting—hyper. She could outrun anyone. But they were going to rely on me? We'd already tried tug-of-war with the girl. And lost.

My nose started to tickle again. “But—”

“There's no time for buts,” Jax said, which was something Mom often said to me. As did my teachers. Jax started pushing me out of the car. “Same plan as last time. Tyler will man the getaway car, I'll distract, you'll grab.”

“Fine,” I grumbled under my breath.

Though we were still wearing our capes, at least we'd taken off those suffocating masks. The girl was still standing in front of the fountain as we tiptoed into the park. The fountain's basin was round and filled to the brim with water. Four stone figures sat in the center, water spouting around them. Above the statues was a tier, then above that another tier—like a cake stand set on top of another cake stand.

Her back was to us. I looked around to see if anyone was acting suspiciously. Then I realized that Jax and I were the only two people who were acting suspiciously. I stopped tiptoeing.

Two old ladies sat on a bench, sipping drinks and talking. A kid with a skateboard was tying his shoe.
Another lady was scooping her dog's poop. Ricardo was nowhere to be seen, which was a huge relief.

“I'll grab her around the waist and hold her,” Jax said. “You take the urn. Then we run.”

“Won't that make us muggers?” I asked, picturing myself in a mug shot. Should I smile at the camera or look serious? Maybe I should have worn a nicer shirt.

“We're not muggers because we're not stealing. We're taking back something that belongs to us. It's totally different.” She flexed her fingers, preparing for the tackle. “You ready?”

“Uh, why is she climbing into the fountain?” I asked. “Doesn't she know that's against the rules? The sign says no swimming.”

With the leather bag over her shoulder, the girl had stepped into the fountain's basin. The water reached up to her calves. She walked toward the center, then stood in front of one of the statues. She tucked the bag under her arm, touched the statue's head . . .

. . . and disappeared.

“Wait!” Tyler hollered out the car window. “I still don't know your name! What is your name?”

T
he girl had disappeared right before our eyes.

I gasped so long and so hard, I almost choked on my own spit. “Did you see that?”

Ethan's mouth hung open. If he stood like that for much longer, he'd swallow a bug.

“That did
not
just happen,” I said, staring at the empty space where she'd stood. “No, no, no, no, no.” I ran around the fountain. Where was she? The two ladies were jabbering away on the bench and the kid on the skateboard had his back turned. “Did you see where that girl went?” I asked the ladies. “Did you see the girl with the red braids?” I asked the skateboarder. They saw nothing. You'd
think someone driving past would have noticed a girl disappear into thin air, but maybe everyone was too busy texting and driving to look out the window.

Ethan finally blinked. “I don't believe it.”

I stood next to him, panting because I'd run around the fountain like six times. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

And so we waited for her to come back. What else could we do? She had the urn. We wanted the urn.

“How long has it been?” I asked.

Tyler and I were sitting on a bench near the fountain. “Two minutes longer than the last time you asked,” he grumbled. It had taken him forever to find a parking space because of the whole parallel parking problem. “I'm starving. I need a sandwich or something.”

I was hungry too. We hadn't eaten since that morning and it was almost dinnertime. But hello? We had some serious issues to deal with. And Ricardo could call at any moment. “Tyler, stop thinking about food and focus. We have a lot of questions to answer. First of all, we need to figure out where she went.”

“She said she was going home.”

“Home? She walked into a fountain, Tyler. That's not home.”

He leaned back on the bench, stretching his legs. “She told Great-Aunt Juniper that she was from the Realm of the Gods, right? So maybe that's where she went.”

I rolled my eyes. “You're kidding, right?”

“Negatory, little cousin. I am presenting the possibility that she traveled to another dimension.” He said it like it made sense. “Check Google Maps for Realm of the Gods and get me some directions.” I expected him to laugh but he didn't. “I'm not kidding. Check.”

“That's idiotic,” Ethan said. He'd been mostly silent since the disappearance. I'm sure he was trying to figure out a rational explanation. I was hoping he'd come up with one because, even though I already believed some pretty wacky things, I wasn't ready to believe that the girl had traveled to
another dimension
.