Journey Into the Flame (50 page)

Mr. Perrot scanned the tree that Logan was referring to. There was some kind of shrine under it, where a great many people had gathered. “Nothing else there matches the description of a canopy. But let’s take a look!”

The pilot fired up the engines and swung the boat around toward the southernmost ghat.

“It still doesn’t make sense,” Logan said. “Why send us to the fort in the first place? Why not send us directly to Assi Ghat?”

Mr. Perrot remained silent; he had no answer to Logan’s question.

When they arrived at the banks of the ghat, Logan and Mr. Perrot rushed up a short stairway leading to Shiva’s altar under the canopy of the large tree. There was no time to waste. Having heard nothing about Valerie’s condition only added impetus to their efforts. They made their way through the crowd that Mr. Perrot had seen from the other side of the river. They finally emerged next to an altar, which had been
smashed to pieces. While Mr. Perrot spoke to a worshipper who was standing nearby, Logan walked around the shrine and the tree to survey the extent of the damage.

“They say a group of men came to the altar last night,” Mr. Perrot said, rejoining Logan. “The men started to ransack the place, smashing the two-hundred-year-old statue of Shiva, the altar it sat on, and even the holy Lingam stone. They were looking for something.”

“Sounds like Simon beat us here,” Logan said. “Did they say if the men found what they were looking for?”

“The person I talked to said they did not,” Mr. Perrot said. “When the crowd saw what the men were doing, they ran them off. That’s why so many people remained here. In case the marauders returned.”

“From everything that you’ve told me about Deya, I can’t believe that she would hide the books in such a way that you would have to destroy a holy shrine to find them.”

“No, Deya would certainly not do that,” Mr. Perrot agreed. They started to walk away from the tree and the crowd. Mr. Perrot once again pulled out his handwritten copy of Deya’s message. “Perhaps we’ve missed something . . .”

Logan, standing across from Mr. Perrot, tried to read the message upside down. As soon as he did, he saw something surprising. “Wait!” he exclaimed. “The message can be read in either direction, first line to last or last line to first.” He dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled out his sketchpad. He began to write furiously. When he was done, he turned the pad and showed Mr. Perrot the new message.

If you seek what I possess

This is the path for you

Along the river to Shiva’s last stand

Turn and seek the canopy protecting the jewel

Cross the great river, to the fort of old

For those who follow these understandings

It will be yours

A smile came to Mr. Perrot’s face as he read the newly formed message.

“We need to look from here toward the old fort,” Logan said, “for something that looks like a canopy.”

“Brilliant!” Mr. Perrot proclaimed.

The two of them immediately made their way back to the boat. Onboard, Sinjee moved them out into the middle of the river, where Mr. Perrot could use the scope to inspect the fort across the way.

“There it is!” he said, inviting Logan to take a look.

Once again Logan was gazing at the large Mughal-style fortress. In front of it was a small red building with a white dome. “The canopy hiding the jewel . . .”

The motor fired up, and the boat headed back to Ramnagar Fort. The small, red, square-shaped structure sat on a stone landing. Each side was approximately ten meters wide and eight meters tall. Double wooden doors occupied the center of each side, and a lattice window was above each door. The red structure supported four small watchtowers at each corner. Between these towers was the large white dome.

As soon as they disembarked, Logan and Mr. Perrot made their way up the thirty-three steps on the riverside entrance of the fort, which had been closed to the public ever since substantial damage had been caused to it by the Great Disruption. Old-style bamboo scaffolding covered the façade of the aging fortress, and the lower part had been overrun with vines and foliage, where birds and other creatures had been making their nests for many years. Logan and Mr. Perrot climbed up a short section of the scaffolding to the large landing that supported the white-domed building.

Logan looked out over the river below and at the ghats on the western shore.

“I suppose that we’re going to have to figure out how to get inside,” Mr. Perrot said. He pushed on a set of wooden doors, but they didn’t budge.

“I can help with that.” Logan handed his backpack to Mr. Perrot
and started kicking the decaying doors hard. Pieces of wood scattered across the interior floor, and he tore away larger parts with his hands. Then he and Mr. Perrot entered cautiously, startling birds, mice, and other rodents, which scurried away, frightened by the noise.

The floor was dusty and spotted with crumbling pieces of painted plaster, which had fallen from the decaying dome high above. The paintings on the walls were faded, and statues of Hindu gods sat on a dilapidated free-standing altar.

“The stories this place could tell,” Logan said as he took his backpack from Mr. Perrot and looked around the room. He bent down and picked up a piece of plaster from the floor.

“I fear that what it has to tell us now is another riddle.” Mr. Perrot was kneeling in front of something carved into the wall directly across from the door through which they had entered. “It seems that Deya is still not ready to give up her secret.”

the Conception that supports the god of men

must be Withdrawn in order to Announce

The Great Truth

Logan walked over, squatted down next to Mr. Perrot, and read the message. “Deya was just full of riddles, wasn’t she?” he said. “Another one to read backward, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” Mr. Perrot said, staring intently at the writing. “But there are some interesting word and grammar choices. Look at how she only capitalized certain words and didn’t capitalize others that she should have. The word God, for instance.”

“Then let’s focus on only the capitalized words,” suggested Logan as he read them out loud. “Conception, Withdrawn, Announce, and The Great Truth.”

“Deya always referred to the
Chronicles
as the Great Truth. Let us suppose this is some kind of substitution puzzle. If we replace the phrase ‘The Great Truth’ with ‘The
Chronicles’,
then . . .” Logan
rummaged through his backpack and handed Mr. Perrot a piece of colored sketching chalk. Mr. Perrot crossed out the last phrase and wrote “The
Chronicles
” underneath it.

“Conception means idea or understanding,” Logan said.

“A prayer or a ceremony would also support God,” Mr. Perrot countered.

“If we replaced the abstract idea of ‘The Great Truth’ with something physical, why not do the same with Conception?” suggested Logan. “What else can support ‘the god of men’? A church, a temple, a pedestal, an altar?”

“An altar,” Mr. Perrot repeated. He crossed out “Conception” and wrote “Altar.”

“In the next line, the words ‘Withdrawn’ and ‘Announce’ could be replaced by other verbs,” Mr. Perrot suggested as he underlined them.

“Two more words,” Logan said. “Withdrawn suggests taken away or extracted. I suppose it could also mean removed or moved.”

Mr. Perrot nodded. “Announced. This word connotes a declaration, an articulation.”

“A revealing?” Logan said, following Mr. Perrot’s train of thought.

Mr. Perrot smiled. “Yes, a revealing.” He chalked it in the remaining two words.

He and Logan stepped back to read the new version.

the Altar that supports the god of men

must be Moved in order to Reveal

The
Chronicles

“Could it be that simple?” Logan walked over and pointed to the small marble statues that sat atop the rickety altar at the northeast corner of the building. He bent down, grabbed the base of the altar, and slowly slid it away from the wall.

Mr. Perrot quickly went over and joined him. “Just a little farther,” he said hopefully.

Underneath the base was a hole. Logan reached in and pulled out a metal box. It was nearly thirty centimeters long, twenty-five centimeters wide, and seventeen centimeters tall, with a handle on one side.

“It’s a Destiny Box,” Mr. Perrot said. “And a large one, at that.”

The voice that answered him was not Logan’s.

“I could not have done this without you, Robert, my old friend!” the voice called from the smashed wooden doorway. It was deep and familiar and echoed under the dome. “It was rather fortuitous that we spotted you at Assi Ghat. I would have never thought to look here. You’ll have to tell me how you figured that out.”

Logan rose to his feet and attempted to draw the gun Valerie had given him, but it was too late. Simon and his mercenaries had entered the building, with their weapons already pointed at Logan and Mr. Perrot. Logan set the box on the altar and helped Mr. Perrot to his feet.

“And you must be the one and only son of Camden Ford,” Simon continued. “We meet at last!”

63

Miracles are called such because they are rare events in your life. What will you call them when they happen every day?

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

BANARAS, INDIA, 2:10 P.M. LOCAL TIME, FREEDOM DAY

Logan and Mr. Perrot sat against a wall, their hands bound behind them. Macliv and two more of Simon’s thugs had their guns trained on them, awaiting any hostile moves. Another deactivated the PCDs he had just confiscated from them. There were four mercenaries inside the old domed structure, and more could be heard outside.

“What the hell is going on? Why isn’t anyone answering my calls?” Simon yelled in frustration. “The shores and the river should be littered with the dead. Instead, people are worshipping some blue light they witnessed in the sky this morning!” He grabbed one of the little statues from the altar and flung it against the wall, smashing it to bits. “Andrea and Lucius had better have a good explanation for all of this!”

“Is there a problem, Simon?” Mr. Perrot asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“None that cannot be solved,” Simon replied. He grabbed a knife from the belt of one of his men.

“I would be most careful with that,” Mr. Perrot suggested, as Simon attempted to pry open his newly discovered prize. “That is a Destiny Box. If you do not open it correctly, you might permanently damage the contents.”

“I know what it is, Robert!” Simon yelled back. He threw the knife to the ground. “How would
you
suggest I open it?” he asked, motioning to have Mr. Perrot and Logan brought over to him.

“Judging by that metallic pad on the surface, you’re going to need a DNA sample or, more likely, a fingerprint,” Mr. Perrot said.

“Probably Deya’s,” Logan added. “Oh, that’s right—you killed her. Probably not a good move in retrospect.”

Simon gave a nod to one of his men, who punched Logan just below his ribs. Logan let out a grunt and slumped in pain. Mr. Perrot was helpless to assist him.

“I have no time for your childish retorts,” Simon stated. “If you don’t have anything constructive to say, then keep silent!” He grabbed Logan by the arms and lifted him to an upright position.

“Let him be, Simon,” Mr. Perrot said. “He cannot help you with this. If, in fact, we require Deya’s DNA, we might never know what is inside the box.”

“We all know what’s in there,” Simon said. “If one of you knows how to open this damn thing, you had better speak up!”

“It’s over, Simon,” Logan said, trying to ignore the pain in his gut. “Your DNA collar, the frequency pulse, everything you planned—we exposed it all. Andrea and Lucius are dead!”

“Dead?” Simon looked startled. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m the one who killed them,” Logan said. “I did it with the frequency device we found at the plantation, the very same device that you had Monique use to kill the Council members.”

Simon glanced at Macliv, then turned his back to Logan and Mr. Perrot. “Victor was supposed to—” he started, then caught himself.

“Supposed to
what
?” Logan pressed. “Victor has also been exposed.
The top officials know how he betrayed the WSA. I wouldn’t count on any assistance from him or from Gretchen, for that matter.”

Simon looked at Logan with bitter contempt on his face.

“You’ll never possess the hidden symbols,” Logan continued, goading Simon. “Give up now. There is nothing left for you.”

“No!” Simon roared defiantly. “You should keep up with your history, boy.” He walked over, pointed his finger, and pressed it into Logan’s chest. “The greatest conquerors may have retreated from time to time, but they never surrendered. They never gave in to the occasional luck of their feeble-minded adversaries.” He turned to Mr. Perrot. “No, I am very far from being over and done. There is more than one way to get into a Destiny Box.” He placed his hand on it, caressed its surface. “It is a shame that you won’t be able to witness my victory. But die assured that these books, like the others, will be mine. They
will
serve my purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?” Mr. Perrot asked.

“Power,” Simon quickly answered. “The world has always been about power. You know that all too well, Robert. Money and fame are backup singers to the tenor who possesses the power to command the audience. Haven’t you ever wondered what this was all about, why we live the lives that we live, why we play the games that we play?”

“It is about wisdom,” Logan said. “It is about learning and evolving, so that the people who come after us can continue to advance from where we left off!”