Labyrinth Society (16 page)

****

We found the Jardin des Plantes, which had four museums on its grounds. After a ten minute hike, we found the labyrinth, which was nowhere near as nice as the one on the Tarpley estate, but still pretty impressive. But Devon and I stood in the center holding hands and concentrating on Versailles with all our might and the only thing we got for our troubles… was a headache. Devon didn't take it well at all.

"There are too many other people here! It's interfering with our signal to the other side." She stomped around like a crazy person before taking out her frustration by putting her foot through the nearest hedge and scaring an old couple on the other side. "We've only got thirty-seven minutes to get there!"

"Okay, calm down. We can't tell them to leave. We just need to find another labyrinth."

"We can't just pull another labyrinth out of thin air, Mia! By the time we find another one it'll be too late to save anybody!"

I decided right then and there I liked snarky, rude Devon much better than hysterical, freaking out Devon. But something she said made me think of yesterday when I was in my room looking up stuff on Dr. Tarpley.

"You're right. We can't pull another labyrinth out of thin air but maybe we can make one." I set my backpack down and rummaged through it until I found the plastic box I kept my drawing pencils in and pulled out a small piece of chalk.

"Make one? Are you serious? We don't have time for any of your dumb ideas!"

"If you've got a better idea then I suggest you bring it. Otherwise, plug your pie hole and Google a book called Power in the Design. Now!" I yelled when she just stood there staring.

"Dr. Tarpley's book?" she finally asked as her thumbs worked the tiny keyboard on her phone.

"Yeah, and it's got a bunch of drawings in it of the ancient Greek and Roman labyrinth designs he uncovered during his digs. I bet you anything the labyrinth Lily's grandfather designed is based on one of these designs."

Once Devon found the book online, we had to choose a labyrinth. There were half a dozen of them and they were all pretty similar with the same square barcode design. But I wanted to pick the right one. I didn't want to have to do this again.

"Just pick one," prodded Devon impatiently.

"Don't rush me," I snapped. "It's not like I can see it very well on that tiny screen of yours."

I finally chose a design labeled, Lyon Dig/Labyrinth number 5, which was the closest to the labyrinth at the Tarpley estate, and wondered if this was the same dig in Lyon, France Dr. Tarpley had disappeared from. Next, I needed a large flat area where I could draw.

"Look! There's a museum over there," said Devon, pointing into the distance to a large building. "Let's see if there's a parking lot you can draw it on."

We ran back through gardens to the La Grande Galerie de l'Évolution. Like most of the buildings in Paris, it was big and old-looking with a double row of arched windows. There was a statue on the front lawn. We didn't have time to look for a parking lot, but there was a large sidewalk out in front of the museum with more than enough space for what we needed.

"But everyone will see us," complained Devon. I gave her an evil look and she shut up.

"So what? Maybe they'll just think its museum exhibit on hopscotch."

"Well, does it have to be pink?" Her nose was crinkled like she smelled something bad.

"It's the only color chalk I had, Miss Purple Cell Phone. Now, shut up and let me work," I said, glaring at her.

First I made a four-foot square, which was the easy part. The hard part was drawing the labyrinth design in the middle. I didn't have a ruler and knew the lines inside weren't even. It wasn't pretty, but we didn't have enough time to worry about it. We needed quick and dirty. While I worked, a small crowd had formed as Devon patrolled the perimeter of our makeshift labyrinth like a watchdog mean-mugging everyone and daring them to step foot inside. We now had twenty-two minutes to get to Versailles.

"Uh-oh, hurry up, Mia," said Devon.

Sweat and sun were in my eyes and I wiped them with the back of my hand before I could see what she was talking about. A museum security guard was standing at the top of the museum steps watching us as he talked into his walkie-talkie. I bent down in a hurry to add the two final touches — two large circles with the same symbols as the copper disks in the center of the labyrinth at the Tarpley estate. I grabbed Devon's arm and pulled her inside just as the guard started down the steps to see what we were up to. Devon and I each stood on a chalk circle, held hands, closed our eyes and concentrated. Hard. At first it seemed like nothing was happening, and I heard Devon sigh.

"Concentrate," I said as I squeezed her hands. She shut up.

Suddenly, my hand, the one holding Devon's ringed one, got warm. A crackle of electricity was in the air, which smelled slightly of rotten eggs. I opened one eye. A thin, blue beam of light was coming from Devon's ring. But it was weak and kept breaking apart like pieces of dry spaghetti. The pieces of light fell onto the concrete where they writhed wormlike and crackled with electricity. When the light worms touched the chalk symbols inside the circles we were standing on, the symbols turned blue and shot beams of bright light up into the sky before melting away and turning the circles into swirling, blue, disks beneath our feet. The crowd gasped and stepped back as the security guard came charging towards us.

The next thing I knew, the concrete beneath our feet was suddenly gone, and Devon and I were sucked down. It was like plunging down the first big hill on The Beast roller coaster at Kings Island without a being strapped inside a car or connected to a track. I was screaming, but the only sound was wind whistling past my ears. It was also pitch dark. I started tumbling end over end and then realized I'd let go of Devon's hand. I hoped she was okay. This morning's labyrinth trip was nothing compared to this. The only thing I remembered about my first trip through was waking up sick and completely disoriented. This time I was Alice and I'd fallen down the rabbit hole. I wondered if it was because only one ring was used. Maybe there needed to be multiple rings to make the trip smoother.

I finally started to slow down and float. A warm breeze ruffled my hair and made my T-shirt balloon. It was still dark but something twinkled in the gloom like stars briefly illuminating the dark in quick bursts of light. Inside each flash of light, I could see people, men, women, and children. Some of them were dressed in modern clothes and others in old stuff, hoop skirts like Marie Antoinette, knee breeches like the little ghost boy, and even hats like the Pilgrims wore. I didn't recognize any of them, but I could tell they were surprised to see me. And some of them didn't look happy. A super bright light blinded me. I put up a hand to shield my eyes. I heard a sound. No, not a sound, it was a voice. Her voice.

"Mia."

"Grandma?" I said, and there was my grandma bathed in rays of bright white light floating before me and looking just like she had the last time I saw her alive. She hugged me tight and even smelled like her favorite perfume. I didn't want to let her go, but she gently pried my arms from around her waist and put her hands on my cheeks.

"Listen, honey, you can't stay here. You're on the wrong side of the barrier. If the dead know a living person can see them, they won't give you a minute's peace. If you see another ghost, ignore it. Never let anyone know you can see the unseen. You hear me?"

"But I wanna stay with you," I said, grabbing her waist again.

"No!" she pushed me away. "This isn't the place for you. We'll see each other again one day. I promise."

"You promise." Hot tears were streaming down my cheeks.

"I promise, honey. But if you stay here any longer, you won't be able to get back through the barrier. Now go!" She kissed my forehead, then slowly dissolved into a million pinpoints of light, leaving nothing behind but her scent.

"Grandma!" I screamed. I reached out for her and was surprised to grab hold of something solid.

"Mia, let go of me! I'm not your grandma."

"Devon?" I let go of the death grip on her shirt. We were sitting on a dirt path surrounded by high green hedges I instantly recognized. "We're back at the Versailles gardens! We made it!"

"Yeah, and it's a good thing we didn't have any further to go. My ring wouldn't have had enough juice to get us there," said Devon.

"How far away are the others?"

"Two miles away," she said nonchalantly like it was only as far as the nearest corner.

"Two miles! How are we supposed to get there?"

"Don't worry," she replied. "You got us this far. I'll get us the rest of the way."

****

Once Devon and I were in the parking lot in front of the palace, she scanned the crowded lot but wouldn't tell me who or what she was looking for. I was so self-conscious. Even though we'd escaped from the security office hours ago, I was paranoid someone would recognize us.

"There," she said, pointing to a man with his back to us, unlocking a blue Vespa scooter. Devon pulled a glasses case out of her backpack and charged across the lot with me on her heels.

"I didn't know you wore glasses."

"I don't. Just make sure you don't look in my eyes once I put them on. Got it?"

"Whatever." I said, falling in step behind her.

Devon took a pair of ugly, black, horn-rimmed glasses out of the case, put them on, and then tapped the man with the blue Vespa on the shoulder. He turned around and wouldn't you know it, it was none other than Security Dude. He was not happy to see us.

"You!" he said, grabbing Devon's arm and getting right in her face, "are in a lot of trouble young lady! I almost lost my job because of you two!"

"Crap!" said Devon, trying to pull away. I'm guessing this wasn't in her master plan.

But, Security Dude instantly let go of her arm and unbuckled his belt. His face was slack. His pupils were spinning like pinwheels.

"No, no, no!" shouted Devon. "I didn't mean for you to crap… for real. I meant… oh forget it! Just give me your scooter!"

Security Dude handed Devon the keys and stepped aside.

"Don't just stand there, Mia. Get on." She turned the key in the ignition and the Vespa roared to life.

"Do you even know how to drive this thing?" I asked as I reluctantly climbed on behind her.

"No. But how hard can it be?"

She revved the engine with the handles and used her foot to push off. We went flying forward and almost crashed into the side of a florist's van. I covered my eyes, so sure we were about to become pancakes, but Devon turned just in time.

"Watch out!" I screamed as she plowed through a group of African vendors selling T-shirts. Merchandise went flying everywhere.

"Somebody stop those girls!" Security Dude must have come to his senses, because he chased us around the lot screaming. Unfortunately for him, he'd forgotten to fasten his belt and his pants, fell down sending him sprawling flat on his face.

"Eat my dust!" called out Devon as we flew out of the parking lot, leaving a long scrape down the side of a passing BMW on the way out. "Here, Mia. You can navigate." She handed me her cell over her shoulder.

"What were those crazy glasses about?" I asked as we zipped through the narrow cobbled streets of Versailles.

"They're Kreskin's glasses."

"Who?" I asked.

"The Amazing Kreskin. He's a famous TV mentalist. He can read minds. But back in the sixties he was a hypnotist. These are an old pair of his glasses. I always take them on missions in case of an emergency."

"Then why didn't you just use them on Sister Ruth to get your phone back? Then we wouldn't have had to go all the way to Paris."

"Because Sister Catherine got all lunatic linebacker on me before I could get to them, remember? Besides, you saw what happened back there — the effects only last for a few minutes. Now, which way do I turn?"

"Left at the next corner."

****

Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of a stone farmhouse next to an open field. It was starting to get dark now, and though there was a light on in the house, I couldn't see anyone moving around inside.

"What in the world could they be doing here?" asked Devon.

"I wonder whose house this is." A mailbox was mounted on a pole next to the front gate. I opened it and pulled out two pieces of mail. One was a clothing catalog from a store called H & M. The other was a letter from a place called Tranquility Nursing Home in Boca Raton, Florida. Both were addressed to someone named Amelia Worth.

"Do you know Amelia Worth?" I showed Devon the mail.

"Get down," said Devon.

Two people came around the corner from behind the house, a big burly bald guy in a gold tracksuit with a gun in a shoulder holster and a slim young woman in torn and dirty clothes with long dark hair falling in her face. Devon let out a loud gasp.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"Morgan!"

"Devon! No!" I reached out to grab her before she ran through the gate but missed.

The bald man saw Devon charging down the gravel driveway towards him and pulled his gun. He aimed for Devon and my heart leapt into my mouth. As he squeezed the trigger, the dark-haired girl Devon had called Morgan suddenly rushed forward.

"Noooo!" she screamed and grabbed the gunman's arm and bit it just as the gun went off, causing it to hit the mailbox next to me instead. I almost wet myself.

The gunman cursed and swung his fist clipping Morgan on the chin and knocking her out cold, which only ticked Devon off even more. She launched herself at the big man and clawed and scratched at his face like a hellcat. He easily knocked her off him, put his hands around her neck and lifted her in the air. He shook her by the throat like a rag doll while her legs flailed and kicked. He was going to squeeze the life right out of her. Her face turned bright red. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

I jumped on the Vespa and turned on the ignition. It would have been so easy to head back into town and the nearest American Embassy. I could tell them I had amnesia and didn't know how I'd gotten to France. They'd send me back to the states and the Greene County Children's Home where the scariest things I'd have to deal with would be Meatloaf Mondays and Brandy Gordon's multiple facial piercings.

Instead, I flew down the driveway at top speed, gravel spinning out in all directions under the Vespa's wheels. The man choking the life out of Devon was so wrapped up in his grim task he didn't even notice me until I was right up on him. He finally let go of Devon and feebly put his arms up to shield himself as I popped a wheelie and threw myself off the back of the Vespa before it slammed into him. I sat up and saw him lying motionless under the Vespa while its wheels spun like crazy. I hurt all over but managed to get to Devon who was coughing and gasping for breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She shoved me aside and crawled over to Morgan. "You're welcome," I mumbled.

"Morgan! Wake up!" She shook the older girl by the shoulders until she started to come around. Devon helped her to sit up.

"Devon?"

"It's me, Morgan. I'm right here."

"Oh, Devon!" She grabbed Devon and hugged her tight. "I knew you'd come for me! How did you know how to find me?"

I got a good look at her and there was something so familiar about Morgan. It was her hair. It wasn't the vibrant, glowing red of the girl I followed at the Louvre, but it was red.

"We can talk about it later," said Devon.

"Yeah, we need to find Alex and the others," I said, wincing as I got to my feet. I had scrapes on my forearms and knees. "He's not going to be unconscious forever, and we need to get out of here."

"Alex and the others? You mean they're here, too?" asked Morgan.

"We tracked their cells to this address. You didn't see them in there?"

"No. I didn't see anyone."

"Maybe they're locked up in the shed," I said, pointing to a small stone shed behind the house. I could see it from the driveway.

"No," said Morgan, jumping up. "They kept me in the shed. If they're here, they'd be in the house someplace."

"Was it just this one guy who kidnapped you? Are there others?" asked Devon.

"He has a twin brother," said Morgan, gesturing towards the guy under the Vespa. "But they're not the ones running the show. Their boss is a creepy old lady with a hook hand."

"Dr. McFarland?" gasped Devon in amazement.

"She never told me her name."

"McFarland? Wasn't she a colleague of Dr. Tarpley's?" I remembered seeing the name in the articles I'd read about Dr. Tarpley's disappearance.

"She's a scumbag treasure hunter who used to work with Dr. Tarpley back in the '60s. But kidnapping is stooping low even for her."

"Look, I don't know what this McFarland lady's deal is, but we need to get out of here before they come back," said Morgan. Devon suddenly stiffened.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"McFarland must be at the palace waiting for me at the Apollo fountain to turn over the ransom. And if you're still here, Morgan, then they never planned on letting you go alive."

We were silent for a minute before Morgan finally said in a trembling voice, "We need to tie him up."