Journey Into the Flame (10 page)

Logan got up and took a seat next to Mr. Perrot.

“Your parents and I, along with Cynthia Brown and a slew of others, worked tirelessly with the original Council of Satraya to disseminate the knowledge in the books around the world.” Mr. Perrot opened the photo album to a photograph that took up an entire page. Logan leaned in closer to get a better look at the wide-angle shot, which was blurry at best.

“There certainly were a lot of volunteers,” Logan said, as he scanned the rows of smiling people.

“There must have been at least a hundred of us back then,” Mr. Perrot confirmed.

“And look, they’re all wearing the Fundamental Four on their shirts,” Logan observed. “You don’t see them very often these days.”

“No, you don’t. Those are the symbols described in the
Chronicles
,” Mr. Perrot said. “Peace, Joy, Love, Freedom. In those days, everyone wore them as a sign of unity.”

Logan turned the page of the album to another blurry picture, this one of a wedding. “Who’s getting married?” he asked.

“That was the wedding of Camden Ford and Cassandra Toliver,” Mr. Perrot answered. “Camden found the
Chronicles
and his wife at the same place and at the same time.” Mr. Perrot smiled and paused for a moment. “It was known as the wedding of the Magician and the Scholar.”

“Strange nicknames,” Logan said. “Should I ask?”

“A story for another day, perhaps,” Mr. Perrot responded.

Logan turned the page again, now to a picture of a park with many chessboards set up on either side of a long path.

“We had very good chess players in that group,” Mr. Perrot explained
with a smile. “The best was Madu, the one who found the Pyramid Set. Camden and Cassandra were very close seconds.”

“Is that why they were called the Magician and the Scholar?” Logan asked jokingly.

Mr. Perrot laughed. “That was part of it.”

Logan kept turning the pages, noticing some empty places in the album. “Some of the photos seem to be missing,” he said.

Mr. Perrot just shrugged his shoulders. “Lost over time,” he said.

Logan came to a picture of a rosy-cheeked, red-haired teenager with a big smile. “This is a young Cynthia Brown, isn’t it?” Logan stared, comparing the image with his recollection of Cynthia from the night before. “Was she a member of the Council back then?”

“Not then,” Mr. Perrot answered. “At the time, Cynthia was a young volunteer who believed wholeheartedly in the power of the books and helped in every way possible. She was as dedicated as any of us.” Mr. Perrot paused, staring for a long time at the picture himself. “Now she’s dead.”

“Sir, you said, ‘They’re back,’ ” Logan said. “Who are
they
, and why do you seem so concerned by them?”

“They,” Mr. Perrot began, turning a few pages to a picture of three people sitting at a picnic table, “are Fendral Hitchlords; his son, Simon; and Andrea Montavon.” Mr. Perrot tapped his finger a few times on the crimson hood shown in the photo.

“That’s the woman I saw last night,” Logan confirmed. “At the auction house, Ms. Crawley told me Andrea always wears one of those head scarves.”

Mr. Perrot nodded. “As history recounts, Fendral found his copy of the
Chronicles,
known as the Train Set, at a rail station in Switzerland. He served on the Council along with his young son, Simon, and his close confidante, Andrea Montavon.”

Logan continued to stare at the woman in the picture. “She was beautiful,” he could not help but murmur. “Ms. Crawley said she was quite a prominent person in her day.”

“In her day, yes,” Mr. Perrot said as he gazed out the window. “She was a very complex woman. On the one hand, she had a great compassion for the plight of people, particularly women. She would go on and on about how women needed to be heard and how they needed to rise up and take some of the male leaders of the world to task.” Mr. Perrot smiled, turning back to the album. “I found her passion and her commitment to the women’s rights movement admirable for a time.”

“She sounds inspiring,” Logan said.

“She was. But then another side of her would emerge,” Mr. Perrot continued, “a much darker, more malcontent side. She was willing to do whatever was necessary to regain the lifestyle she’d enjoyed prior to the Great Disruption.” Mr. Perrot shook his head. “Over time, Fendral and Andrea became less supportive of the Council’s mission and more concerned with interpreting and controlling the message of the
Chronicles
. They came to believe that the doctrines put forth by the
Chronicles
needed to be revealed to people gradually and that
they
needed to be the ones to reveal them.”

Logan looked again at the picture of Fendral, Simon, and Andrea.

“A rift formed within the Council,” Mr. Perrot continued. “Once-civil discussions turned into heated arguments. Almost every meeting became contentious. I spoke to Andrea privately, pleading with her not to let Fendral’s obsession with control overshadow the good that everyone was doing. But Andrea sided with Fendral.”

“What about the other Council members?” Logan asked. “Camden, Cassandra, Madu—couldn’t they all band together and outvote Fendral and Andrea?”

“At first, that is exactly what took place,” Mr. Perrot answered. “But then strange things started happening to the members who sided against Fendral. Deya Sarin, who found the River Set, returned to India after her husband crashed his automobile because of supposedly faulty brakes. During the inspection of the car, they found a black rose on the floor of the backseat. And Madu, the finder of the Pyramid Set, was mugged and almost killed, but nothing was stolen from him. He woke
up in the hospital the next day and found a black rose placed at his bedside. He returned to Egypt, where he donated his copy of the
Chronicles
to the Cairo Museum. Your parents and I came to believe that there was more to Fendral and Andrea than met the eye, something sinister.”

“So did Fendral and Andrea gain control of the Council?” Logan asked.

“By all accounts, they should have, but for some reason, they didn’t.” Mr. Perrot was pensive for a moment. “To this day, I don’t know why Fendral and Andrea abruptly returned to Switzerland. I suspect Camden Ford knew, but he was very evasive whenever anyone questioned him about it.”

“So that’s why the Council had to start over,” Logan said. “They skipped this part in history class.”

Mr. Perrot gave a weak smile and nodded. “After Fendral, Simon, and Andrea departed, Camden turned the reins over to Cynthia. His confidence in her proved to be correct. She recruited a new group of members, and they restored the Council to its original strength and purpose. In fact, it was Cynthia who completed the Freedom Day and Liberty Moment project. It was she who led the Council through much of the Rising.”

Logan nodded, taking it all in. “And now you think that Fendral and Andrea had something to do with her death?”

“No, not Fendral,” Mr. Perrot corrected. “Fendral died six years ago. As far as I know, he left everything to his son, Simon. But news has been scarce; ever since they left the Council, they’ve stayed hidden. Not even Andrea made any public appearances—until now, that is. I have a feeling she is up to something, and Simon, too. I think Simon inherited more than his father’s estate. Even though he was only thirteen back then.” Mr. Perrot pointed to the grinning young boy in the picture. “He already exhibited his father’s cunning. The events of the last twenty-four hours are related, I know it.”

“It does sound like they have something to hide,” Logan said. “But there was nothing illegal about the auction last night. And if they had
something to do with the murders of the Council members or the robbery in Cairo, well, maybe we should just let the police handle it.”

Mr. Perrot raised an eyebrow. “You mean the same way they handled your parents’ murder?”

“My parents?” Logan said, his tone more serious. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Perrot paused, uncomfortable with Logan staring at him. “I don’t think your parents’ killing was just a random act of violence as the authorities concluded.”

“What are you saying?” Logan demanded. He stood up. “Are you saying their murders were premeditated?”

“The way your parents were killed has always bothered me. It was so brutal, as if the assailant wanted something from them.” Logan began to pace, not knowing how to react to what Mr. Perrot was insinuating. “Your parents had Camden and Cassandra’s copy of the
Chronicles.
I believe that Simon and Andrea somehow found out and that they wanted those books for themselves.”

Logan ran his hand through his hair, as he always did when he was ill at ease. He’d spent two years trying to remove the image of his slain parents from his mind, and now it came to him all anew, as if the horrific tragedy had occurred just the day before. “Are you saying that the Hitchlords and Andrea killed my parents because they wanted the books? The very books Andrea purchased last night?”

“I know this may be hard to hear, and I know I don’t have any proof,” Mr. Perrot began. “But just look at the basic facts. Soon after your parents were killed, Deya Sarin died in a boating accident. Her copy of the
Chronicles
has never been found. Last night, Andrea bought your set of the
Chronicles
at the auction, and the Pyramid Set was stolen from the museum in Cairo. Not to mention that three Satraya Council members were murdered while the bidding for the books was taking place.” Mr. Perrot paused. “Coincidence?”

Logan stopped pacing and shook his head. “Why would they want all of the sets? Simon already inherited his father’s. Why would he need
the others? And how did he know that Camden had given his set of books to my parents?”

“All good questions for which I have no answers,” Mr. Perrot said with a frustrated sigh. “Did your father ever mention anything else that Camden may have given to him, other than the
Chronicles
?” Mr. Perrot asked. “A blue journal, perhaps?”

“No,” Logan responded after a moment’s thought. “I never saw anything like that, nor did my father ever mention it. The only things in the Destiny Box my parents’ left me were the books. Why, what was in the blue journal?”

“Camden Ford was known to carry one around from time to time. But what was in it, I cannot say.” Mr. Perrot rose and walked to the window with a worried look. “I may not have all the answers at the moment, but the questions I have are troubling. Do you think all of these events are unrelated? Do you think the police were thorough in investigating your parents’ murders? And do you still think this is all a coincidence?”

Logan gave no answer.

8

Do you really know who is standing before you?

Can you say for certain that they are this or that?

Perhaps the person you despise the most is the one who will teach you the greatest lessons.

For if you can learn to love them, whom can you not love?

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

ISLE OF MAN, 2:00 P.M. LOCAL TIME, 5 DAYS UNTIL FREEDOM DAY

A twenty-five-meter, tri-electric-drive hydrofoil yacht glided into the private harbor at Peel Castle. The craft, named
Everlasting
, was guided skillfully by the captain to the midpoint of the long landing dock. Boat hands secured the mooring lines and tied them down. The yacht’s only passenger rose to his feet. “We have arrived, Master Sebastian,” the captain said as she shut down the engines and then radioed to the castle that they had arrived.

“Thank you, Christina,” Sebastian said. “A fine trip, as usual.”

“Will you need the boat again tonight, sir?” she asked, taking off her white captain’s hat and letting down her shoulder-length auburn hair.

“No,” Sebastian Quinn replied. “But keep her ready for tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if we will need to go out again soon.”

“Very good, sir,” Christina said, putting her cap back on and tipping it in farewell.

Sebastian disembarked and stepped onto the dock. Carrying a small
travel bag, he walked toward the stone entryway to the castle’s courtyard. He had been away from home for a few weeks, and it felt good to walk on the dock, to smell the sea air and see the round overlook tower again. It had been a gorgeous summer day, but now the winds were picking up, and dark clouds were rolling in. A storm was brewing. Sebastian stopped and looked at the ominous sky, which mirrored the unsettled feeling growing inside him. He was reminded of a phrase he had read in a book long ago: “
As within, so it is without.”
A light rain started falling as he turned and resumed his walk to the courtyard.

Sebastian’s mother and father had purchased the castle in 2034 from the Manx National Heritage Foundation. After the Great Disruption, visitors stopped coming to the castle, and the grounds were left un-tended for many years. The Heritage Foundation had been more than happy to sell it but would only do so on the condition that the site remain largely untouched and the name remain the same. It was also stipulated that any new structures on the site be built apart from existing buildings and ruins. Sebastian’s parents had honored that agreement. The only major addition to the grounds had been the large house, which Sebastian had helped his parents design and construct. Situated at the northwest corner of the courtyard, its tall tower provided a panoramic view of the ocean and the rest of the Isle of Man. The house had been built in the same style as the other buildings, and apart from its modern plumbing and electrical wiring, it blended into its surroundings. Sebastian knew every nook and cranny of it, every secret passage. There were only two ways to enter and exit Peel Castle; one was by the harborside dock, the other by gated West Quay Drive, which was now mostly used as a service entrance. Peel Castle had very few guests these days, and they usually arrived by boat or helicopter.