Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 Amy was no longer in Venice. She stood in a strange underground chamber hewn into the native limestone beneath a church in the Montmartre section of Paris. On the wall before her was a faded mural of four siblings named Cahill. Luke, Thomas, Jane, and Katherine — the ancestors of the family branches, Lucian, Tomas, Janus, and Ekaterina. And in the distance, a burning house. Even then, centuries ago — conflict, violence, tragedy. We're still at each other's throats — this time over the 39 Clues. What were they fighting about back then? The image shifted to a different burning building. With a stab of pain, Amy recognized her own childhood home. Her poor parents, trapped inside

Through her anguish, she struggled for logic. How can I remember this? I wasn't a spectator at that fire! I had to be pulled out of it! Amy and Dan had been rescued. Mom and Dad … The blast of grief was too powerful — a gale-force wind that could not be withstood. Make it stop— The picture changed to something she recalled all too well. The funeral — dark clouds, dark suits, and dark veils. Tears — so many, and yet not enough, not nearly. Somber faces — four-year-old Dan, too young to comprehend the scope of the heartbreak that had befallen them; Grace, now dead and gone herself; awful Aunt Beatrice; Mr. McIntyre, friend or enemy? It was impossible to be sure…. Far beyond the grave site, indistinct in the ground fog, she could just make out another figure, dressed entirely in black. Impossible! No way could I remember that! But their enemy was coming into clearer focus — his gray hair, his sharp eyes. His lips were

moving. He was calling to her. What was he saying? "Amy—" She awoke with a start. Dan knelt over her, gently shaking her arm. His hair and clothes were wet. Her T-shirt and jeans felt cold and damp, and her toes squished inside clammy socks and sneakers. She ached all over from countless bumps and bruises. Dan's lips were swollen. A gash on his cheek looked raw. The launch. The accident … She sat up on a narrow bunk. "Where are we?" The room was tiny, yet oddly luxurious, with rich dark paneling and shiny brass hardware on built-in drawers and cabinets. "Shhh," her brother whispered. "I think we're on the yacht." She got shakily to her feet. The deck pitched slightly. Water lapped below them. "Door's locked," Dan supplied, seeing her eyes travel to the closed hatch. "I've heard voices outside. I don't think Jonah's one of them, though."

Amy looked nervous. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Dan. What if we escaped from the Janus only to get caught by somebody even worse?" "Worse?" echoed Dan. She bit her lip. "Do you think they could be the Madrigals?" In the search for the 39 Clues, the mysterious Madrigals were the wild card. Amy and Dan had no information about them beyond William McIntyre's dire warning: "Beware the Madrigals." The lawyer had refused to provide any more detail, but his somber face and urgent tone had spoken volumes. There was little question that the group was extraordinarily powerful and possibly deadly. The hatch was thrown open. "What do you know about Madrigals?" Dark hair, olive skin, handsome features. It always made Amy guilty to find him good-looking. Ian Kabra. His sister, Natalie, stepped into the compartment behind him. So it wasn't the Madrigals, but this was nearly as

bad. Of all the other teams, the Kabras were the most ruthless. Like Irina Spasky, they were Lucians — the cold-blooded and conniving branch of the Cahill family. Dan stuck out his jaw. "We know more about them than you!" Natalie rolled her eyes. "Nobody understands the Madrigals. No one's even sure who they are." "No one except Grace," Dan blustered, "and she told us!" "Liar!" Ian's complexion reddened. Dan smiled. "Touchy! I guess you don't like it when somebody knows something that you don't." "Our parents tell us everything," Ian said haughtily. "Not like your precious Grace, who left you in the dark and then turned you loose to wreck the contest!" "Calm down," Natalie said to her brother. "He's just trying to get to you — and succeeding. For someone who's smarter than a supercomputer, sometimes you're a real idiot." "What do you want?" Amy demanded.

"Only what you stole from the Janus stronghold," Natalie replied reasonably. "I don't know what you're talking about," Dan said stubbornly. "Don't play dumb," Ian snapped. "Although you are a natural—" "We know the stronghold exits somewhere in the canal network," his sister interrupted. "We put surveillance cameras all over Venice. But when Jonah turned up chasing you — well, it wasn't hard to connect the dots." "We were in the stronghold," Amy admitted, "but we didn't take anything. It's just an art museum down there." "Search us if you don't believe it," Dan added. "As if we hadn't already done that," Natalie said in bored exasperation. "You've lost weight, Amy. I don't think this contest is good for your health." Amy ignored the barb. "So you know we're telling the truth." "The two of you make me sick," Ian spat. "You look like you crawled out of a sewer…."