The Tomb of Shadows Read online

  “What a stroke of luck to find you here,” said Brother Dimitrios, pulling back his cowl. “We missed you in Egypt. But how considerate of you to return and find these for us.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE ONLY GAME IN TOWN

  BROTHER DIMITRIOS HELD out his hand, palm up. Behind him stood his two favorite henchmen. Brother Yiorgos was dark and balding, with a round face and a constant creepy smile. Stavros had a mass of curly hair, a thick unibrow, and a scowl, his chin blackened by beard stubble.

  Both of them held guns pointed toward Aly and Torquin.

  “I do not like to use such brutish tactics,” Brother Di-mitrios said, “but I believe we are having some temporary trust issues. You left us rather abruptly in Giza.”

  “You kidnapped us!” I said.

  Brother Dimitrios chuckled. “We freed you from the people who had taken you from your homes. That is the opposite of kidnapping, yes? More like rescuing, I’d say.” He was moving closer now, hand still outstretched. “We extended an offer to you. A lifeline. An opportunity to prevent your own deaths. And instead you fled to your abductors. Tell me, how’s that working for you now?”

  I took a step backward. “You destroyed Babylon. You brainwashed Marco. You’re turning him into some kind of monster. And you promised him he’d be a king! How were we supposed to trust you?”

  “Because we are the ones who tell the truth, Jack,” Brother Dimitrios said. “We are the good guys.”

  “You destroyed the Karai Institute!” I said.

  “They would have destroyed us if they’d gotten the chance,” Brother Dimitrios said. “It has always been part of their plan. But none of that matters now. The KI no longer exists. We are the only game in town. Which is as it should be. I trust we will eventually earn your loyalty, Jack. But for now, you need only give us the Loculi. It is the smartest thing you can do. For yourselves and the world.”

  As he reached for both sacks, Aly gasped aloud. “Don’t!”

  I held tight and backed away. Brother Dimitrios chuckled again. “So shy now. And yet you were the one who generously showed us the way to the island, which we’d been seeking for decades.”

  Once we left the protected area around the island, the Massa could pick up the signal, Aly had said.

  “You planted that phone!” Aly accused him.

  Brother Dimitrios raised an eyebrow. “You mean, the phone you stole?”

  I couldn’t read his expression. Was he mocking us? Was it possible Mom had played us?

  I thought about what she had done—left us a high-res close-up of her own eye, which we’d used for the retinal scan. That was how we’d gotten access to the Loculi. That was how we were able to escape. She had risked her status to help me. To help us.

  At least I’d thought so.

  Dimitrios barked a dry laugh. “You know, the timing couldn’t have been better. You see, we were looking for a new headquarters anyway, since you betrayed the location of our old one to your Karai Institute friends. So this gave us the opportunity to eliminate the competition, so to speak.” He looked around with a satisfied smile. “Not to mention upgrading our location at the same time.”

  A distant explosion made me flinch. The KI was being destroyed. This reality was squeezing me like a fist. The Scholars of Karai had built the island on centuries of research, on land that no one could ever find. Now all of it—the labs, the healing waterfall, the Heptakiklos, the space-time rift—was under new ownership. Because the Massa had found the one person dumb enough to leave a trail. Me.

  “As you can hear, we are already in the process of a . . . gut renovation,” Brother Dimitrios said. “We will rebuild here, more gloriously than you can imagine. If you keep the Loculi, you will die, Jack. Or you can choose to give them to us. And we will save your lives.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to shape some kind of plan, something that made sense. I concentrated on the McKinley family motto, which had always gotten me through tough times: a problem is an answer waiting to be opened.

  All my life I’d thought that mottoes were dumb. Just words.

  Opening my eyes, I stared at the two canvas bags.

  There was only one possible answer.

  “All right,” I said, slipping my hands under the sacks. “You win. Take them.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHAC-A-MASSA

  “JACK, NO!” ALY cried.

  Torquin let out a roar. He turned and lifted Brother Yiorgos off the ground like a toy soldier, but the sound of a gunshot made him freeze.

  Brother Stavros stood with one arm raised high, a revolver in his fist. Smoke wisped upward from the barrel, from where he’d shot in the air. His other arm was locked around Aly’s neck. “Don’t make this hard for us,” he growled.

  Torquin let Yiorgos fall to the ground.

  “Vre, Stavros, this is not a movie,” Brother Dimitrios said. “Let go of the girl.”

  Aly pushed herself away from Stavros’s grip. Yiorgos rose, grimacing. They all stood, bodies angled toward me. In the dim light I couldn’t see anyone’s face clearly, but I gave a sharp warning glance to Aly and Torquin. I did not want them to get hurt.

  Lifting the sacks, I curled my hands underneath. The material was worn and ripped, and my fingers felt for the holes.

  There.

  Quickly I slipped my hand inside the brown sack. I felt the warmth of the Invisibility Loculus. That was all I needed. Just to touch the surface.

  I knew I was fading from sight by the look on Brother Dimitrios’s face. Utter shock.

  He lunged forward. I leaped aside, spinning to the right. I untied the top, pulling out the entire Loculus. Tucking it under my arm, I held tight to the other sack.

  Brother Stavros scooped his gun off the ground, where it had fallen.

  Anything and anyone you touch becomes invisible.

  I grabbed Aly’s uniform. With a grin, she turned toward Stavros. “Face, meet foot.”

  He looked around, baffled at the voice coming from nowhere, and he never saw the swift kick Aly planted on his jaw. As he fell unconscious, Aly hooked her hand into Torquin’s belt. “Your turn.”

  “Time for Whac-a-Massa,” he said.

  Together we moved toward Brother Dimitrios, angling from the side. He stood, trembling, staring in the direction we’d just been. “This is the biggest mistake you can possibly make. Trust me. Also, striking a man while invisible is ungentlemanly conduct.”

  “A little to the left,” Torquin replied.

  As Brother Dimitrios flinched, the red-bearded giant delivered a haymaker to his jaw. Dimitrios’s feet left the ground. He flew back into Brother Yiorgos, and both men hurtled backward, smacking into a tree.

  The three men lay there, inert. Torquin flexed and unflexed his fists. I could practically see smoke coming from his ears. “Good day, gentlemen,” he grunted.

  I took Mom’s cell phone from my pocket. It had betrayed us. It was the reason they’d found this place. And I was not going to be taken advantage of again.

  I reared my arm back and threw the phone into the jungle.

  “Let’s get out of here before more of them come!” Aly said. “We have what we need.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Aly smiled sheepishly. She threw her arms around me, nuzzling her head on my shoulder. “Jack, you’re the best.”

  “Mush,” Torquin said.

  I pulled the Loculus of Flight from its sack. We would use both Loculi to get to the beach quickly, airborne and unseen.

  But all I could think about was the phone. And its owner.

  I don’t even remember the flight back to the beach.

  I do remember seeing the shining hull of Slippy from high in the air. And Fiddle’s relieved smile as I let go of the others’ hands, making them visible as we touched down on the sand. “Where’s Jack?” he shouted, running to greet us.

  Aly nudged me in the side. As I put my Loculus down in the sand, Fiddle jumped back.
“Aaaghh! Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry, it’s the Invisibility Loculus,” I said. “It makes you invisible. Which is useful when you’re flying over enemy territory.”

  He nodded. “You got them both—awesome! Cass, Bhegad, and Dr. Bradley are on board. We’re ready to book.”

  I slipped the Invisibility Loculus into its sack, grabbed them both by the canvas tops, and ran after the others toward the jet. “How’s the professor?” Aly shouted.

  “Dr. Bradley’s doing the best she can. They’re in the back of the plane. We managed to get a lot of equipment from the hospital—for him and for you.” Fiddle slowed. “Dr. Bradley can continue your treatments for a while. If you guys die, our dream is over. The KI really goes down in flames.”

  “Sorry to spoil things for you,” Aly remarked.

  Fiddle blushed. “Plus I care about you guys. Seriously. We all do. Now come on. They’re going to find us. While you were gone, more Massa flew into the compound. Top brass, I think. Huge plane.”

  As we raced the final few yards to the jet, Cass appeared at the jet’s hatch, at the top of the ladder. “Sgniteerg!” he said. “Hope you’re impressed I could say that.”

  Aly bounded up the ladder. “Just glad you’re feeling . . . terbet?”

  Cass winced. “I think you mean retteb.”

  Fiddle put his arm on my shoulders. “Good luck, tiger. Thanks for saving my sorry butt. You’re in the hands of the Jolly Red Giant now.”

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” I asked.

  “I found some more of our people in the jungle,” he replied. “A small group, mostly injured and scared. I don’t know how they made it out. But along with the prisoners from the dorm—it’s a core, and who knows how many more we’ll find. I want to stay here with them. Build a force, if we can.”

  “The Massa will wipe you out,” I said.

  Fiddle gave me a wry grin. “Best brains. Biggest muscle power. Which would you bet on?”

  “Good point,” I said. “I feel sorry for the Massa.”

  I gave Fiddle a bear hug and scampered up the ladder. As I took a seat near Aly and Cass, Torquin squeezed his frame into the cockpit. From the back of the plane, Professor Bhegad’s voice called out feebly: “Children . . . Aly . . . Jack . . . Cass . . . Marco . . .”

  He was lying on a set of cushions against the rear bulkhead. Dr. Bradley had managed to strap him down and was adjusting the drip on his IV.

  “All here,” I said gently. “All three of us. Marco is . . . gone, Professor. Remember?”

  Professor Bhegad looked confused for a moment. “Yes,” he finally said. “Of course . . .”

  The engine started with a roar. “Belts!” Torquin said.

  I strapped myself in. Over the engine noise I heard a high-pitched cry. I figured it was a seagull.

  Until my eyes caught a motion at the edge of the jungle. People.

  I shone my flashlight through the window. Two figures were running across the sand toward us, waving their arms. One of them was much faster—someone broad-shouldered, with a slightly bowlegged gait and flowing brown hair.

  “Marco?” Aly said.

  But my eyes were fixed on the other person—older, female, her head covered by a bandanna.

  “Stop the plane!” Cass shouted. “Let’s find out.”

  “Too late!” Torquin replied.

  The jet began to turn. I grabbed binoculars from the floor and peered through. The woman and Marco stood shoulder to shoulder now, looking up at us. Shaking her head, she removed the bandanna and flung it to the ground.

  The breath caught in my throat. As the jet turned its pontoons toward the water, the coast grew smaller. Smoke passed across the moon’s surface like lost ghosts.

  “Jack?” Aly said. “What did you just see?”

  I let the binocs drop from my fingers. “My mom.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MONGOLIA

  “HOW CAN YOU be sure?” Aly picked up the binoculars and tried to scan the shore, but it was too dark to see anything.

  I was shaking. “The walk. The way she moved her head when she took off that bandanna. Her eyes . . .”

  “You could see all that?” Aly asked.

  “I could see enough,” I said.

  Aly let out a deep breath. “So it’s true. The photo was real.”

  “Which is a good thing, Jack,” Cass said. “Even if you don’t think so now. You have to have faith that you’ll meet her. That things will work out.”

  “A mom who faked her own death.” I whirled around at him, angrier than I ever thought I’d be. “Who didn’t care enough to be in touch for six years. Who’s part of a team of killers and liars. How will that work out?”

  “A mom who’s alive, when you thought she wasn’t,” Cass said softly.

  I backed off, taking a deep breath. I’d seen Cass’s parents in a newspaper photo that Cass had kept in his backpack. The headline read “Mattipack Crime-Spree Couple Caught!” The mug shots showed two scowling people with bloated, angry faces.

  “How do you have faith?” I asked. “Have you . . . have you ever tried to get in touch with your mom and dad?”

  Cass nodded. “I called the prison a couple of years ago. It was weird. Mom couldn’t believe it was me. I talked a lot, but she didn’t say much. Just listened. When our time was up, I could hear that she was crying. She said ‘Love you, Cassius’—and then, click.”

  “Cassius?” Aly said.

  “From Shakespeare. The play Julius Caesar. Cassius is the guy who has a ‘lean and hungry look.’ They named me after him, I guess. How bad can they really be if they read Shakespeare?”

  “Romeo and Juliet,” Torquin growled. “Very sad.”

  Cass leaned forward. “I’m not giving up on them, whether they’re innocent or not—which, by the way, I think they are. You can’t give up on getting your mom back either, Jack. You have to believe that. Maybe she was brainwashed. Maybe she’s trying to escape. Or she’s secretly a spy for the government. Maybe she’s stealing information to save our lives and sabotage the Massa.”

  “Have you ever thought of being a writer?” Aly asked. “You have a good imagination.”

  Cass shrugged. “Ask me again when we’re on the other side of fourteen.”

  For a pessimist, Cass was sounding pretty optimistic. Staring out the window, I let his words sink in. I wanted to be optimistic, too. But as I watched the island disappear behind the clouds, I felt like it was pulling my heart with it.

  “I need to tell my dad,” I murmured. “He needs to know about Mom. He thinks she’s dead.”

  “Jack, you know we can’t contact the outside world,” Aly said. “We’ve talked about this a million times. Your dad will send people to get us. It’s too risky.”

  “It was risky,” I said, “back when we didn’t want anyone to discover the island. But it’s too late for that. The KI is destroyed.”

  “Not destroyed,” Torquin said. “Fiddle still there. With others.”

  “A rebel band,” Aly said.

  “A bunch of injured geeks in a cave,” I said.

  “Hey, they know the territory,” Cass said. “The Massa don’t. It’s a big, confusing place to newcomers. And the Massa also don’t have a Cass to help them expertly etagivan.”

  I sat back. Cass had a point. The Massa may have taken the compound, but they didn’t have the whole area yet. There was a chance we could return with the Loculi. If Professor Bhegad and Dr. Bradley could keep us alive that long.

  “Look, the rebels may be hidden for now, but what about us?” I said. “We have no place to hide. No support on the ground. We need that. I can swear my dad to secrecy. He helps run companies. He knows lots of people, and he’s crazy smart. Besides . . .”

  I stopped myself. I wasn’t going to say I miss him. Even though I felt it.

  “Jack has a point,” Cass said. “Where else could we possibly go?”

  “Maybe Disney World?” Torquin mumbled.
r />   “What if your dad tries to blow the whistle?” Aly said. “If my parents find out, they will stop at nothing to get me back. They don’t know I have a death sentence. They won’t believe it.”

  “Not sure . . . trust . . .” Bhegad spoke up, his voice heavy and labored. “Your father . . . me . . .”

  “Dad will keep this a secret from the other parents,” I said. “Is that what you’re worried about, Professor? I promise. It’ll be just us and him. No one else. Until we finish the quest. I know this.”

  Cass and Aly exchanged a look. After a long minute, they both nodded. Professor Bhegad was shaking his head, eyes wide. I couldn’t be sure if he was offering an opinion or just trembling.

  “Use this,” Torquin said, handing his phone over his shoulder. “Low enough altitude for signal. But not for long. Hurry.”

  “I’ll text him,” I said.

  “Call him,” Aly said. “He won’t recognize the number. He might think it’s a fake. He’s got to hear your voice.”

  I took the phone. My fingers shook. The last time I spoke to Dad, I was home in Indiana and he was in Singapore. I’d made a total mess in the house. Then I went to school and never saw him again.

  I tapped out the number, held the phone to my ear, and waited.

  Beep.

  At the sound, I nearly dropped the phone. After the fourth ring, a familiar voice chirped: “This is Martin McKinley of McKinley Enterprises. Sorry I can’t take your call. So . . . you know what to do!”

  My mouth was dry. I swallowed hard. “Hey, Dad? It’s me. Um . . . I just wanted to . . .”

  Click.

  I took the phone from my ear. “It hung up!”

  “You weren’t loud enough,” Aly said. “It didn’t pick up any sound. Try again—and speak up!”

  As I held my thumb over the phone, it beeped. I nearly dropped it again. On the screen were the words MCKINLEY, M.

  Shaking, I held it to my ear. “H-hello?”

  “Jack?” I could hear Dad breathing on the other end. “Jack, is that really you?”