The Valiant Page 7

  My eyes got big. I love stuff like this. "And you think the flowery-looking design on that box has something to do with one?"

  "I do," she said. "Think about it. This country hasn't had a war in centuries. How can that be?"

  "Because they are peaceful people," I wondered.

  "Or because they are too powerful to conquer."

  "Except it's not a very big country, so they wouldn't have many soldiers if they had to fight, but I guess our tour guide told us that the Montrovian Navy is quite formidable." I laughed. "That's my new favorite word. Formidable. That's what I want to be someday." I scrunched up my nose. "It means tough, right?"

  "That it does. And you will be," she said with a laugh as she pushed back the long bangs that had fallen out of my braid. "Why don't you go check out those ruins?"

  I got up and ran behind the old castle wall, popping my head around the corner and sticking my tongue out at her.

  "You should let me take your picture, Lee," she said. "I want you to always remember our visit to the Palacio de la Vallenta."

  I find myself being drawn toward the ruins. When I step behind the old wall, the first thing I notice is a flower bed filled with begonias.

  I read the placard rising from the ground.

  Begonias are the national flower of Montrovia. First brought from South Africa by merchant traders, they symbolize justice and peace between major world powers and simple people alike. The gold and yellow color indicates the wealth, happiness, and contentment, which is the goal for our every citizen.

  Two memories flash simultaneously. One of my mother down on her knees, digging a hole in the dirt. The other of my dream where I was digging up the queen's prized begonias.

  Without thinking, I drop to the ground.

  "What are you doing?" Ari asks, rounding the corner of the ruin with a picnic basket in hand.

  I don't respond, some unknown force driving me. A few seconds later, my hand hits a foreign object. I dig a little deeper and then grasp it in my fingers, pulling it out.

  "What the hell is that?" my brother asks, studying the small gray-lidded cylinder.

  "I think my mother buried it," I say, quickly calling Lorenzo and asking if he's in the palace and if we can join him.

  A few minutes later, Juan escorts us into the war room where Lorenzo is looking stressed.

  "Did we interrupt something?" I ask as he stands from behind his desk and makes his way toward us in greeting.

  He smooths out his suit as Juan leaves the room, closing the doors behind him. "Just politics. How was your tour?"

  "She dug up a bunch of begonias on palace grounds," Ari tattles.

  I nod my head in agreement. "I had a crazy dream where I got in trouble for digging up the queen's flowers as well as a memory of my mother down on her knees in the same spot." I hold the canister in front of him. "And I found something."

  "What's in it?"

  "Since it came from your property, I thought I'd ask you that first."

  He wraps his arm around my waist and then takes my hand in the other. "It looks like a dirty film canister."

  "I think that's exactly right. My mother took photos of me with an actual camera. It would have been handy."

  "Why don't you do the honors?" he says.

  I flip the lid off the top and turn it over.

  But nothing falls out.

  Lorenzo and I let out a disappointed sigh.

  Ari grabs the container from me and inspects it. He slips his hand inside and pulls out a rolled up piece of paper, spreading it flat on Lorenzo's desk.

  When I see what it is, I let out a curse. "What the--"

  Lorenzo inspects it closer, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "It's just like the money with Ophelia on it, only it's my late uncle Alessandro wearing the crown."

  "And," I add, "it also has Arcadia as the name of the country, not Montrovia. That means the first attempt on your father's life by his younger brother had to do with what my mother was investigating."

  "Six years later," Ari says, dumbfounded. "And someone is still trying to turn Montrovia into Arcadia. Ophelia's bill was definitely not a gag gift."

  "A gag gift?" Lorenzo asks.

  "I found an entry in Clarice's journal. She saw the currency and questioned her sister, but Ophelia told her it was a gag gift for your upcoming birthday. She sweet-talked one of the palace guards, specifically the one in charge of the royal vault, to let her borrow the ruler's crown to wear for the photo. I'm guessing your uncle did the same."

  Lorenzo's lips press flat against each other. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry.

  "Juan!" he yells out, causing the man to scurry through the door. "I need you to join me in the royal vault. I'm afraid we will be firing one of the guards." He repeats what we just told him.

  "I will also let him know, if he doesn't cooperate in regard to the questions I have, we will bring him up on charges of treason," Juan says seriously.

  The two of them march off, leaving me and Ari alone.

  "Guess you don't mess with the royal jewels," Ari teases and then glances at his watch. "You know, we should probably get going. We have one more stop today."

  "The Royal Montrovian Bank, yes. Then, I'd like to go home and take a bath before we leave for Rome."

  "Deal," Ari says, gesturing with his arm toward the door.

  I start to walk toward him and then turn around. I grab a sheet of paper from Lorenzo's notepad and write him a quick note. I fold it in half and draw a silly smiley face on the front of it.

  But, just as we're leaving his private residence, I blurt out, "Is Lorenzo the Magnificent buried here? She didn't mention it on the tour."

  Ari takes his phone out of his pocket and looks it up. "He is buried in the National Cathedral--"

  "On the Plaza de Vallenta," I finish, suddenly remembering another place that there wasn't a photo of.

  "On this treasure hunt, we're looking for a certain symbol that we saw on our castle tour. Let's see if we can find it."

  "Which one?" I asked.

  "You'll know it when you see it," my mother said with a laugh.

  "Our tour guide mentioned that many of the works in the palace were done by Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo among other famous artists," Ari continues. "This article says it's of note that his tombstone was carved by Michelangelo."

  We leave the palace grounds, get in the car, and drive to the cathedral set in the center of town, closer to the hills and homes than the docks. The plaza is bustling with activity. I laugh when I notice Ari is still carrying the picnic lunch.

  "Are you hungry?" I ask even though I already know the answer.

  "I'm starved."

  "Let's sit on the steps and eat first."

  Ari doesn't say anything when he eats, which is typical. He's a man on a mission to refuel. I can't help but laugh as I take a bite out of my sandwich.

  But he stops mid-bite and stares at me. "Well?"

  "Well, what?"

  "What are your thoughts on the dollar bill you dug up? Where did your mom get it? Why did she bury it?"

  "Knowing that we left Montrovia as the Kelley and Huntley Bond a few weeks later suggests she might not have wanted it with her then. The fact that she hid it means that she was either leaving it for someone--"

  "Like a dead drop? That's old school spy craft."

  "With all the electronic surveillance today, still very effective. She would have either left it for someone or was afraid to have it on her."

  "Gut feeling?" he asks me.

  "We left here and went to Baghdad. I wouldn't have wanted it with me."

  "Where do you think she got it in the first place?"

  "Oh my gosh! What if she wasn't investigating Ares Von Allister? Think about how we found the bill with Ophelia on it. King Giovanni survives an attack from his own brother and wants answers. He searches his brother's home and finds the bill. He looks up Arcadia, wondering what it is, if he didn't already know. His friend, Ares, studie
d all that stuff, so he confides in him and sends him the bill.

  "Gabriel told me that they hid the fact that it was his brother, just like they lied about Ophelia being behind the kidnapping. King Giovanni can't have anyone in his country investigate because he's afraid the truth will leak, so he goes through his old friend. Ares hires my mom to figure it out. Just like we're trying to do."

  "And she does."

  "Yeah, she does," I say, excitedly getting up. "And that means we will do the same."

  "Without the dying-at-the-end part preferably," Ari says softly.

  "Hurry up and finish eating," I tell him. "I'm ready to go to all the places now."

  "Even if the memories hurt?"

  "Yeah," I say, "but at least now, the pain will be worth it. We're going to figure it out, Ari. I just know we are."

  He finishes his lunch and follows me into the cathedral, which is much larger than the one on the palace grounds. It's massive with multiple naves and domed ceilings supported by marble columns, decorated in unique navy-and-white stripes. The floor itself is a treasure, featuring mosaic designs that tell stories similar to stained glass.

  No memories flash through my head, but I seem to know where I'm going, leading us straight to the front right corner of the church to an area simply called Magnifico. There are a few tourists gathered around it, so we wait for our chance to inspect it closer.

  "This isn't going to be easy," Ari says when they have moved away, pointing toward the ornately carved memorial.

  "That was easy," I told my mother.

  "Would you have found it if you were not looking for it?"

  "Probably not. You wouldn't notice it if you got too close. What does it mean?"

  "Throughout history, there are rumors of secret societies. Many of their symbols are hidden in plain sight. You have to know what you are looking for to find them. I'm sure everyone who comes here just sees--"

  "The Garden of Eden?" I asked, noting the tree and animals set in a hilly backdrop overlooking the ocean below.

  "Sort of. Except this is Arcadia."

  "That's Greek, right?"

  I grab my brother's hand and take a few steps backward. "Do you see it now?"

  "Oh my gosh. It's covering the entire crypt, but it's made out of curling tree branches."

  "And what about the memorial as a whole?"

  "Is it supposed to represent heaven, or is it Montrovia? It seems like a peaceful, almost idyllic setting with trees and animals set on the hill."

  I raise an eyebrow at him and nod.

  "It is? Holy--" he says slowly and then lets out an expletive. "It's Arcadia."

  Neither one of us says anything on the walk to the Royal Montrovian Bank. We don't really need to. We both know that someone wants to make Arcadia real. I take in the bustling streets of the capital, the beautiful gilded gas streetlamps, the wide sidewalks, and glitzy shops. If you ask me, it's already the perfect place. Busy but not too crowded. Genuinely happy residents and tourists are thrilled to be here. I pause to glance up at the palace set atop the hill and know it's more than just the town that feels perfect to me.

  "Do you like Montrovia?" I ask Ari.

  "I do," he says, grinning at me. "Tell you what. Let's figure all this out and then settle here permanently."

  Tears spring to my eyes as I launch myself at my brother to give him a hug. "You have no idea what that means to me."

  "You're wrong about that," he says. "Remember, you're the only family I have."

  I take a deep breath as we arrive at the bank. Upon entering, we're asked by a receptionist what sort of business we'd like to conduct today. After telling him I'm here for a safety deposit box, he presses a few buttons on the computer in front of him, and very quickly, a woman in a tailored designer suit strides toward us, holding a scanner.

  After placing my palm on it, she says, "I see you have two accounts with us--one accessible by your handprint only, the other requiring a key. How can I help you?"

  I hold up the key.

  "Very well," she says, leading us into a vault and motioning to an open door. "You can retrieve your box and bring it into this private room. When you are finished, simply replace the box. It will lock automatically."

  I walk straight to the back of the vault and then turn left on autopilot, knowing where I'm going. I place the key in the lock, remove the small metal box, and then take it into the room where Ari awaits.

  He shuts the door behind me.

  I close my eyes for a few beats.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Waiting to see if a team of killers is coming for us."

  "Very funny." He chuckles at first but then realizes I'm serious. He pulls a gun from under his jacket and stands with his back against the door.

  That makes me laugh. "You should never stand like that. The first thing the team of bad guys will do is shoot through it. I mean, if they're coming full force, there's no reason to be stealth about it."

  Ari jumps away from the door. "Like Zurich? Do you think they were looking for you, not Chauncey?"

  Now, it's my turn to laugh. "Only one way to find out."

  "You're crazy. You know that, right?" he says.

  "We need to know one way or the other, Ari. That's the reason I didn't want anyone to come with me."

  "How long did it take?"

  "Six and a half minutes, give or take." When he glances at his watch, I say, "It's been two and a half so far."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I pay attention to the little details, Ari. I was trained to."

  "I wish I had gone to Blackwood with you. You're so calm. I'm sort of freaking out a little. Standing here, waiting to die."

  "The goal would be to kill the muscle, capture their leader, and find out who they work for. Move over here," I tell him as I take up a position next to the door that gives me the best strategical location in the room.

  We wait.

  And wait.

  After ten minutes, I finally say, "While part of me would like some response, I'm glad we didn't get one."

  "Me, too," Ari says, wiping his brow.

  "I think I'm glad for a different reason than you. No response tells us that they didn't know about my mom. Think about it. We know she came to and left Montrovia as Charlotte Cassleberry. She opened this box first and then went to Zurich where she opened another box and put this key in it."

  I open the box, finding a small white envelope with a few photos. The first one is of me standing in front of the Georgia Guidestones. The second is of me next to the tomb of Lorenzo the Magnificent, which we just visited. The third is of a tomb in another grand church. The fourth is of me with Jules Raphael at the Terra Project in Florida, and the last is a grainy shot of a computer screen showing a photo of the World Seed Vault in Norway.

  "Looks like we have a few more places to visit," Ari says, flipping through them.

  At the bottom of the box is a manila envelope where I find Huntley Penelope Bond's birth certificate, Aristotle Allister Bond's death certificate, and a letter. I read it aloud.

  "My darling daughter,

  "If you are reading this, it means you have discovered the Zurich safety deposit box and found your way here. You know about my profession as a covert operative for our government and, more than likely, I have passed and taken my secret to the grave.

  "I lied to you, and I'm sorry for that, but it was for my safety as well as your own.

  "As you know, my stepfather was abusive. One day, in a fit of rage, I was beaten badly, way worse than usual, and was left to die. It's a miracle that a friend of mine drove by moments later and noticed our front door ajar. He took me to a hospital two towns away where he lied about my name in an attempt to protect me. Charlotte was his dog's name, and I'm not exactly sure where Cassleberry came from.

  "Anyway, I was diagnosed with a cracked skull along with a broken nose, jaw, and cheekbone. It was a long recovery, and when the surgeries were over, I looked like a different person. My
friend suggested that I continue to be Charlotte Cassleberry in order to hide from my family. Ares was good with a computer, and like most fathers in DC, his worked a government job. Between the two of them, they created a new identity for me--and, ultimately, you.

  "Enclosed is your real birth certificate. Believe it or not, you have two real birth certificates. One in the name of Calliope Ann Cassleberry and one as Huntley Penelope Bond. The man you thought was your father was actually my partner. He wasn't my love. That man was Ares Von Allister. At this point in your life, you have probably heard his name.

  "He's a wealthy inventor and businessman, but I just knew him as my high school friend. He wasn't my boyfriend, but I did fall in love with him as he nursed me back to health and gave me the gift of freedom from my family.

  "My mother, of course, was searching for me, and my stepfather was a policeman. He questioned Ares numerous times, and because of that, we couldn't risk being together.

  "One night, years later, we were reunited. Lust took over, and twins were conceived. I was thrilled when I learned I was pregnant, and although Ares had many passions, having children was not one of them. He was upset with me. You don't need to know all the details, but we decided together that he would not act as your father. That I would raise you alone.

  "So, now, it's up to you to decide. You can continue life as Calliope Cassleberry or become Huntley Bond. Either way, I would encourage you to meet your father and show him the photos of our life together. He might not give you the love you deserve, but he is an incredibly brilliant human being who you should know.

  "All my love,

  "Mom."

  "At least she wanted you to know," Ari says, giving me a hug.

  "I wish she had just told me what she discovered. More stupid photos are not helpful!" I say, feeling both overly emotional and very frustrated.

  We ride home in silence. I feel like all I've done for the last two days is talk about the past. There's no time to relax before our flight. I pack quickly and touch up my makeup, and we're soon at the airport and aboard the royal jet where I close my eyes and pretend to nap the entire flight.

  Upon arrival in Rome, we are shuttled to an opulent hotel where we meet up with Viktor, who invites us to dine in his suite with him and his father as well as Peter and Malcolm Prescott.

  I'm genuinely happy to see them all, especially when Malcolm gives me such a warm reception. I can't help but wish my father had been more like him.