The Name of This Book Is Secret (15 page)

“Just don’t stay up too late,” said her mother. “All right, Cass?”

“Uh huh.”

“Promise?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Yes, Mom!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I promise!”

“OK, I love you.”

“Me, too.”

“Me, too, what?”

“I love you, too! Sheesh!”

Although she and Max-Ernest weren’t collaborators anymore, and it was sort of cheating to ask for his help, Cass had had no choice but to call him, too; she had to warn him that he might hear from her grandfathers, or even from her mom.

She’d been very businesslike with Max-Ernest, she thought. She told him where she’d hidden the magician’s notebook and she gave him all the information she had about the Midnight Sun. And she didn’t say anything about his abandoning their mission or being a coward and a traitor. (Somehow, with all the activity, she’d forgotten that she’d been the one to end their partnership.) He didn’t say much at all, for a change, which was fine with her. Hopefully, he would be able play it off like she was staying with him—at least until the morning.

Then, well, everyone would start looking for her—probably. But would it be too late?

She didn’t see the limousine until it splashed to a stop in front of her, glistening with raindrops.

As Cass waited, the driver got out and walked toward her, heedless of the storm. The driver was big and tall and shadowed in darkness—save for a pair of white gloves, gleaming in the night. Was it Dr. L?

Every instinct Cass had told her to run. But something that was not quite bravery and not quite fear and not quite the knowledge of Benjamin’s plight kept her rooted to the spot.

“Miss Skelton?”

The voice was gruff but not as deep as Cass expected.

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Cass as forcefully as she could.

“I’m Daisy.”

Daisy stepped into the light, revealing a decidedly un-flower-like but indisputably female face. Without another word, she opened the limousine’s back door and beckoned Cass inside with a gloved hand.

Reminding herself she was a celebrity, and not the type of person to be intimidated by a limousine driver (even if that driver was the tallest woman she’d ever seen), Cass held her head high and climbed in as confidently as if she rode in limousines every day and Daisy were her own personal chauffeur.

Only after she’d settled into her plush velvet seat did Cass notice how violently her hands were shaking. She had to sit on them to get them to stop.

Hours passed in silence, Cass barely able to see out of the foggy windows. Generally, she could tell they were heading upward, but the limousine made so many turns that she lost all sense of direction. Too late, she thought of Hansel and Gretel and how you’re supposed to leave a trail of crumbs when you journey into a forest.

If nobody came for her, how would she find her way back?

She told herself to stay calm, but doubts kept creeping into her head. Previously, she’d been so focused on getting into the Midnight Sun that she hadn’t stopped to think what she would do once she got inside. Now that she appeared really to be on her way she wondered how she would find Benjamin—and how she would get him out.

In the back of her mind lurked other, darker questions: Why had Dr. L and Ms. Mauvais taken Benjamin? What did they want him for?

What had happened to the magician’s brother, Luciano? Would she find him, too, still a prisoner after so much time? He would be an old man by now, his circus days long gone....

And what about the magician, Pietro, himself? What was the terrible secret he had discovered? Was she strong enough to face it if she had to?

Suddenly, the limousine rounded a turn and broke through the clouds.

Cass wiped the fog off the window next to her and looked outside. The sky above was now clear and starry—suggestive no longer of ghost stories but rather of science fiction and space travel. A perfect sky for spotting comets or for studying the constellations if only Cass had had the time and inclination. (Unfortunately, she had neither.) Cass couldn’t tell much about their location except that they were near the top of a mountain. Below them, a vast white blanket of clouds, illuminated by the moon, spread out as far she could see.

The limousine made another sharp turn, then descended into a small, hidden valley.

“Look—” Daisy commanded, breaking the silence.

Only then did Cass become aware of the warm glow suffusing the landscape around them. Craning her neck, she could just make out the source of the glow: an intense golden light peeking over the edge of the mountains. It looked like a sunrise, but it couldn’t have been; the time was just before midnight.

“There it is,” said Daisy. “The Midnight Sun.”

I hope it’s not giving away too much to tell you that, only two days later, the Midnight Sun would be devoured by fire. How and why it was set on fire, and who, if anyone, was burned to a crisp, and whether or not the smell of sulfur was in the air—these are questions that will have to wait. In the meantime, the Midnight Sun’s fiery fate frees me to describe it in detail. Because it is gone, you can no longer find it, no matter how good your information.

So many subjects you study in school prove unnecessary in life: for math, there is always a calculator. For English, there is always spell-check. For history, there is always the encyclopedia. Why should you hold so much knowledge in your head when it is stored right in front of you?

But there is one subject that comes in handy time after time.

I am thinking, of course, about Egyptology.

To name just one example: a thorough understanding of the mummification process is indispensable whether you are dispatching an enemy or preserving a friend or simply bandaging a head injury.

More to the point: if you are familiar with the layout of temples from Egypt’s Middle Kingdom (roughly 2000–1600 BC), then you already have a sense of what the Midnight Sun looked like. In particular, the spa was an almost exact replica of a little-known temple to the Egyptian god Thoth—a temple built over the grave of an unnamed pharaoh and accessible only by a three-day camel ride through the desert.

Cass was sadly ignorant of the finer points of Egyptian architecture. She knew enough, though, to recognize a pyramid when she saw one. Passing through the Midnight Sun’s massive gates, she was temporarily blinded by the blazing light, but once her eyes adjusted she could see a midsize (by Egyptian standards) pyramid standing in the precise center of the spa grounds.

Perched on top of the pyramid was something that would have astonished even the most seasoned Egyptian explorer. It was a lantern, but much more than a lantern. A perfect orb, it resembled nothing so much as a rising sun. Inside, fire danced every which way, as if fueled not by electricity or gas but rather by some unknown, supernatural source. Although the fire appeared gold at first glance, a longer look revealed a kaleidoscope of colors in the flames.

It was this lantern that Cass had seen earlier peeking over the mountains. Now, as the limousine door was opened for her, the lantern was so close she had to shield her eyes despite the fact that she was wearing sunglasses. Had she had a sudden change of heart and decided to make a run for it, the glare would have dissuaded her. Anyone in the vicinity could be seen as clearly as if a spotlight were shining directly upon her.

It’s just like a prison, Cass thought.

A large gloved hand helped her out of the vehicle. She assumed the hand belonged to Daisy, until she looked up and saw Dr. L’s too-handsome face smiling down at her, his silver hair glowing unnaturally in the light of the lantern.

She stifled a gasp, squeezing her backpack tight in her arms. This was the moment of truth: would he recognize her?

“Miss Skelton, welcome to the Midnight Sun. I am Dr. L,” he said smoothly, just as if he were meeting her for the very first time. “Ms. Mauvais regrets she cannot greet you herself—she keeps to a very strict bedtime. But she’s asked me to extend you every courtesy in her place.”

Cass nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The light was making her dizzy. Or was it nerves? Behind her, the limousine quietly pulled away; there was no going back.

“I know, it’s bright here, but you’ll get used to it,” said Dr. L, tilting his head in the direction of the pyramid. “That lantern was brought by ship from Egypt many years ago, but the flame inside had already been burning for thousands of years before that. Legend has it, it started when a fireball fell from the sun.”

“Like a meteor?” Cass managed to ask.

“Exactly. Because the flame never dies, we call it the Midnight Sun—it’s like a sun that never sets. But you must be very tired.”

He gestured toward a freckle-faced young man in a white tunic—and yet another pair of white gloves—standing silently next to a stone table. “This is Owen, your personal butler. He will escort you to your room.”

“N-nice to m-meet you,” Owen stuttered. He smiled shyly.

Cass breathed a silent sigh of relief. Owen, at least, was not very intimidating.

“But first, a small formality,” said Dr. L. (His identifiably unidentifiable accent was especially strong when he pronounced the word
formality.
)

“Do you need me to pay?” asked Cass, ready to hand over the credit card her mother had given her.

Dr. L chuckled. “We’ll worry about that later. It’s just that we have to look through all our guests’ baggage when they arrive.”

“You want to look in my backpack?” Cass asked, alarmed.

“The Midnight Sun is a place of healing, and we insist that nothing contaminate the atmosphere. Sugar. Junk food. Firearms. That sort of thing.”

Cass reluctantly handed her backpack to Owen, who started removing items for Dr. L’s inspection. Cass hoped desperately that nothing would reveal who she was.

“I see you’ve come prepared,” said Dr. L drily as Owen held up Cass’s flashlight and binoculars and other survivalist gear. “What’s that? A space blanket? I think you’ll find the bedding here is quite ample, but of course one never knows....I must say, you seem a much more independent sort than your sisters.”

“My sisters? I mean, you know them?” Cass corrected herself, flustered.

“Certainly. They’ve been here several times. Ms. Mauvais is very fond of them. But you must know that.” He smiled blandly.

“Yeah, I knew that,” said Cass quickly, her palms sweating. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Normally, we don’t encourage our guests to bring camping equipment, but we’ll make an exception tonight.” He nodded for Owen to return the backpack.

“However, I’m afraid I will have to ask for your cell phone,” Dr. L added. “Hopefully, you’ll appreciate the opportunity for silence and meditation.”

Cass froze. She’d always hated silence and meditation, but that wasn’t the problem. Her phone was the only thing linking her to the outside. If the worst should happen, she might at least use it to send her mother a message. Or a picture of herself waving good-bye.

Cass was about to say she hadn’t brought a phone with her, but then she thought better of it. What self-respecting Skelton Sister would leave home without one? The danger of blowing her cover was too great to risk.

She reached into her pocket and handed over her phone. Good-bye, she thought. Although whether she was addressing the phone or her mother or the whole world she couldn’t have said.

As Owen led her to her room, Cass tried to forget her fears and to concentrate on her surroundings. The Midnight Sun, she saw, spread out from the pyramid in a series of concentric circles: a wide reflecting pool dotted with lily pads and lotus blossoms surrounded the pyramid; a courtyard at least an acre in size and paved in sandstone surrounded the reflecting pool; and a series of low, stone buildings fronted by columns surrounded the courtyard. Flowering vines—jasmine, honeysuckle, and other more exotic varieties—crept up the columns, filling the air with their scent, and making the Midnight Sun seem all the more ancient, beautiful, and secret.
^*

While the lantern on the pyramid created the effect almost of daylight, the whole of the Midnight Sun seemed to be asleep; it was like coming across a remote village in the midafternoon and finding the inhabitants had all fallen under a spell. Behind one of these doors, Cass thought, Benjamin was being kept prisoner. Or would they keep him underground in some kind of labyrinth or dungeon? Perhaps he was underneath her feet at that very moment. Cass imagined a dark corridor lined with prison cells, Benjamin and Luciano and all the other children stolen by Ms. Mauvais grasping the steel bars, pleading for help.

Before she knew it, Cass was standing in her new room, and Owen was bidding her g-good night. “C-can I g-get you anything b-before I g-go?”

Needless to say, Cass had never had a butler before. She’d never even seen one before, except in the movies and on TV. Owen wasn’t anything like a movie butler. First, he didn’t wear a tuxedo. Second, he was too young. (Owen was that age that is older than a kid, but younger than a parent. Maybe the age of an uncle. Or of a half brother from your father’s first marriage. You know,
that
age.) Third, he didn’t have an English accent, or even speak properly. But that made it all the more difficult to know how to treat him.