Journey Into the Flame (51 page)

“Wisdom? Learning? Evolving?” Simon repeated Logan’s words with disgust. “Those are but constructs created to keep people like you occupied with a mundane life, while we others get to play.”

“Give them bread and circuses, and they will never revolt,” Mr. Perrot said.

Simon smiled. “Yes. Juvenal had it right, even two thousand years ago,” he replied. “You see how little has changed. Just think of the
Chronicles
, how people were enthralled by the power of the words, when the greatest power was hidden from them on those blank pages, waiting
for the truly passionate to discover them. Even your father”—Simon looked at Logan—“was seduced by the promise. He told the world to live by the words that they read, while he sought out the secret power of the symbols for himself. How is that different from what you accuse me of doing?”

“The difference is that people didn’t have to die for my father’s pursuits!” Logan answered. “ ‘Any desire that imposes your will on another is a desire that should go unpursued.’ ”

“You don’t need to quote from the
Chronicles
to me,” Simon said, as he turned to answer a call on his PCD.

Logan exchanged a look with Mr. Perrot. They needed a miracle, and they needed it now.

After a few moments of hushed conversation, Simon turned back to them. “I have some good news for you! Look who has arrived.” He gestured toward the broken door.

Logan followed Simon’s gaze. In an instant, his fear was replaced by utter shock and confusion. “How can this be?” he whispered.

Andrea was standing in the doorway, wearing her signature crimson hood. Her face was partially covered by white bandages. Logan recalled how it had been ravaged by her exposure to the frequency device. She walked into the room and stood next to Simon.

“I—I saw you die,” Logan stammered. “You and your son.”

“It would seem that conclusion was a bit premature. He is correct, however, about Lucius,” Andrea told Simon. Her voice was tired and raspy. “We underestimated Camden’s son and his detective friend, who, I am happy to say, is on the verge of death. I only hope it comes swiftly for her.”

“Your face is beyond recognition,” Simon said, clearly disturbed by Andrea’s disfigurement. He had been scrutinizing her face since her arrival. He looked into her topaz-colored eyes.

“He did this!” Andrea struggled to yell, pointing at Logan. “He did this with the frequency device they stole from the plantation. Let us kill these two and bury them, along with Fendral’s secret, forever.” She walked over to Simon and whispered something in his ear.

A satisfied smile broke out on his face. “Oh, yes,” he said, turning to Logan and Mr. Perrot. “It would seem that Andrea is very much alive.”

Andrea nodded, then turned. “Hello, Logan.” She now addressed him, her eyes the only recognizable feature on her face.

“I saw you die,” Logan said again. “I
saw
it . . .”

“You always were a survivor,” Mr. Perrot stated. “And you always liked to make a dramatic entrance.”

“Oh, Robert,” Andrea said in a gentle but haunting tone. “So good to see you after all these years. I’m so sorry about your daughter, but you have only Logan to blame for that.”

“While I would like to stay and exchange pleasantries, Andrea is correct,” Simon interrupted. “We have more urgent matters to attend to.” He placed his hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “We need to go to the island. But first, I must return to the Château to retrieve the three other sets.”

“You shouldn’t take that risk,” Andrea said. “I will secure them for you. Tell me where the books are, and I will bring them and this Destiny Box to the island.”

“No. I must secure the books myself,” Simon said. “I am the only one who can open the safe.”

“But how will you get in?” Andrea’s hoarse voiced asked. “The Château must be swarming with police.”

“There are many ways to enter the dungeons of Dugan,” Simon replied cryptically. “I will meet you at the island in three days. I must also parlay with Dario and the others. But first things first: we need to dispose of these two.” He gestured to Macliv, who readied his weapon. “So you see, Robert, in the end, all of your efforts have been for naught.”

“Please,” Andrea said, raising her hand to stop him. “Let me have this pleasure. They murdered my son. And I have a few more matters to discuss with my old friend here.” She pointed a trembling finger at Mr. Perrot.

Simon paused for a moment to consider her request. “Don’t tarry,” he said at last. He grabbed a gun from one of his hired men and handed
it to her. “I never understood why you took such an interest in him. But let’s be done with it once and for all.”

Logan shook his head. He refused to believe it, even now. “You won’t kill us like you killed my parents.”

“Killed your parents?” Simon calmly repeated. “No, I was not the one who performed that necessary deed.” He shook his head and gave a scornful laugh. “You, with all your Satraya philosophy and idealist views, you think love and compassion are such wonderful things. Well, love might have been what got your parents killed.”

Logan remained silent now. What did he mean? How could
love
have gotten his parents killed?

Simon turned to Andrea. “I will leave a couple of men and a boat for you. Remember: the island in three days.”

“I will be there.”

Simon smiled one last time, took the Destiny Box, and left the room with Macliv and one other man. The other two of his men remained with Andrea. One stood next to her, and the other maintained a position in the entryway. Andrea released the safety on the handgun.

“She’s our daughter, you know,” Mr. Perrot suddenly said.

“Who’s your daughter?” a shocked Logan asked. He looked first at Mr. Perrot and then at Andrea. “You mean
Valerie
?”

Mr. Perrot gave a short nod. He turned his eyes to Andrea. “You thought we were gone forever when we disappeared thirty-two years ago. You and Fendral were so determined to take over the Council. I just couldn’t bear to let her stay with her mother. You would have been such a wicked influence on her.”

“Are you saying that
she’s
Valerie’s mother?” Logan asked again.

“Yes,” Mr. Perrot said. “She is the mother Valerie never knew. And sadly, I see that my decision all those years ago was for the best.”

“How can that be possible?” Logan was reeling from the revelation.

“Go ahead, Robert,” Andrea said. “Tell us. For even I am not sure I know the full story.”

Mr. Perrot shook his head, looking into her eyes. He spoke in a
quiet voice. “I was very much in love with you once. You were so beautiful and idealistic and passionate. The way you spoke of women’s rights, independence, and freedom—you seemed to embody the very essence of the
Chronicles
. Do you remember the spring of 2036, the group you led to rebuild Quebec City? Do you remember how powerful it felt to bring the
Chronicles
to the ragged population that flocked there after the Great Disruption? Do you remember when we held hands near the statue at the center of the Joan of Arc Garden? And I know you remember the night that followed. I put aside your past, Andrea. I put aside your marriage to Alfred Benson, which you promised me was over. I put aside the life of privilege, which you said you no longer wanted. I pushed it all aside. I believed you. I was in love with you.”

He paused and looked down at the ground for a moment. He turned to Logan. “We returned to Washington eight months later, and a few weeks after that, our daughter was born. We named her Tabatha.” Mr. Perrot looked back to Andrea. “I took her home from the hospital, but you stayed because of some medical complications. During that time, Camden began to unravel Fendral’s true plans. I felt like a fool when he told me, when I thought back on our conversations, how much I had tried to convince myself that you wanted something you didn’t really desire. I realized that the
power
you told me you found in helping people was very different from the
power
I felt in doing so. While you were in the hospital, I asked you some direct questions. Do you remember?”

Andrea stood silently, the gun steadily gripped in her hand.

Mr. Perrot continued. “You refused to speak to Fendral on our behalf, to try to persuade him to change his views and plans. You not only refused, but you said you agreed with him and intended to do whatever was necessary to help him succeed. And you told me that I didn’t understand you at all.” He stopped and waited for some kind of response from Andrea, but she offered none. “It was then I knew Camden was right, that we needed to leave and that I couldn’t let my daughter grow up in your care.”

“So that’s when you and my parents disappeared and moved to New
Chicago,” Logan said. “I get it now. This explains what happened with Valerie at the Vault.”

Mr. Perrot nodded. “And this is why I told Valerie her mother died while giving birth to her. Camden and Cassandra guarded my secret.”

Andrea continued to look at Mr. Perrot. She raised her gun.

“You don’t have to do this,” Mr. Perrot said.

“Yes, Robert,” Andrea replied slowly. “I do.”

Mr. Perrot took a deep breath. “Close your eyes,” he said to Logan.

Logan did so. He jerked back as a rapid series of gunshots rang out and echoed through the domed building. He heard the frantic sound of flapping winds as frightened birds exited through the upper latticed windows. Then he heard the clinking of shell casings and the sounds of bodies falling to the ground. Then only silence. He wondered if he was dead.

“You can open your eyes now,” a female voice said.

Logan saw that the two mercenaries Simon had left behind were dead. One lay on the ground next to Andrea, the other near the entrance. Andrea walked over to Mr. Perrot and knelt down in front of him, removing her hood. “I still love you,” she said, as she began to peel the bandages off her face. “Even though you lied to me for all these years.”

Logan once again couldn’t believe his eyes. When the hood came off, Logan saw who it was who had been impersonating Andrea. She looked like her mother, especially with her topaz-colored eyes.

“How did you . . . ?” Logan began in amazement, as Valerie released her father from his bonds and they embraced each other. “What did you say to Simon that convinced him you were Andrea?”

“I told him something to do with his father’s secret.” Valerie smiled. “I told him we would bury the both of you just like Fendral buried Giovanni Rast.”

Mr. Perrot’s eyebrows rose in shock.

“That would certainly convince him,” Logan said, smiling back at Valerie. She moved over to him and untied his hands. The moment he
stood, he planted a kiss on her lips. “Don’t scare me like that again . . . Tabatha?” Logan said jokingly. “Your legs and everything.”

“I’m all right,” Valerie reassured him. “I regained consciousness when I got to the hospital, and everything quickly started to get better after that. Sylvia filled me in on my father’s message and where you had gone. Once we arrived at the river, we tried calling your PCDs, but you didn’t answer. As we approached your last-known coordinates, which Chetan provided, we saw Simon’s men patrolling the fort. As it happened, I still had Andrea’s PCD.” She smiled again. “That’s when Sylvia and I got the idea for the bandages. You know the rest.” Logan gave her a firm hug. “I’m all right,” she repeated. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. “But where’s Jogi?” Valerie asked her father.

Mr. Perrot’s joy at seeing Valerie was tempered by sorrow. “Jogi died at the hands of Simon and one of his men.”

Valerie shook her head. “No more,” she said. “No one else is going to die at their hands—” She was cut off by the sound of gunfire in the distance. “Time to go!”

Logan grabbed his backpack, and he and Mr. Perrot followed Valerie as she ran outside. They could see WCF pontoons and a helicopter racing north along the river. Valerie had brought backup.

“Sounds like they got Simon,” she said. Sylvia waved from the shore below.

“Don’t be so sure,” Logan cautioned. “He has all four sets of books. He’s not going to give up easily. We need to see this through ourselves.”

64

Hearing a single word may change your destiny.

Speaking a single word may change someone else’s.

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

BANARAS, INDIA, 3:30 P.M. LOCAL TIME, FREEDOM DAY

“Don’t lose him!” Valerie shouted on her PCD over the roar of the engines as they pursued Simon and his men. “Don’t let him out of your sight!”

The speedy chase headed north on the crowded river. Valerie gave orders to the WCF pontoon ahead of them and to the support helicopter flying directly above it. Logan, Mr. Perrot, and Sylvia sat under the boat’s canopy as two agents who had arrived with Sylvia piloted the craft.

“They’re still a thousand meters ahead of you,” said a voice on Valerie’s PCD. “What are your orders?”

“Take them out,” Valerie ordered. “This is it for Simon Hitchlords.”

“You can’t do that!” Mr. Perrot yelled, as he and Logan walked to the front of the boat. “He has the box—he has the
Chronicles
!”

“You take that boat out, and we could lose those books forever,” Logan added, as shots rained down from the helicopter.

“I can’t care about that right now,” Valerie replied, grim-faced. “There are tens of thousands dead back in Washington. What am I supposed
to say to their families and the survivors? ‘We let this butcher get away because we were worried about some books’?”

Logan heard more gunfire in the distance.

“We hit the engine!” the helicopter pilot announced. “Affirmative. There is smoke coming from the boat. They’re pulling into Manikarnika. Hurry! They’re going to disappear into the crowd there.”

“What is Manik—” Valerie said, struggling to repeat the name she heard on the radio.

“They just landed!” the voice from the helicopter interrupted. “There’s no place for us to set down.”