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Arthur’s dark eyes narrow on mine. “My team of Blues are an immensely talented crew,” he says, drawing me away from a fear I’d prefer not to imagine. “And yet, out of all of them, you’re the one I’m counting on to see this thing through. And this—” He reaches into a drawer built into the display case to retrieve what looks like an old piece of parchment. “This will help you locate those hidden pieces.”
I peer at a detailed drawing of oceans and continents, with an array of random symbols scattered about, though I sense there’s nothing random about them.
“What you’re looking at is no ordinary map,” Arthur says. “It isthemap—the same one Christopher Columbus used on his journey across the Atlantic. It was created by Henricus Martellus, a German cartographer, back in 1491. The symbols you see serve as signposts to finding the missing pieces I seek. The map also contains hidden texts we’re still working to decipher. So far, they remain mostly illegible.”
While the map is undeniably impressive, I’m not sure what Arthur expects me to do. As a member of Generation GPS, I don’t even know how to read it, and I have no problem telling him as much.
Undeterred, he says, “But you understand the symbols, don’t you? Just have a look and tell me what you see. Though limit your focus to France, please.”
I take a moment to study that section of the map. Somewhere outside of Paris, I find the ancient tarot symbol for the Death card and, since I already deciphered that back at the Yew Ball, the words are easily summoned.
“The Death card, which can refer to both endings and new beginnings, shares a numerological connection to the Emperor card, which, I assume is connected to Versailles—not only because it’s the royal residence but because it is a symbol of new beginnings. Also, its element is water.” I pause to look at Arthur. He’s clearly interested, so I continue. “The symbol for the Hermit card”—I motion toward the detailed image etched onto the parchment—“shares an astrological link to Saturn, which is linked to the Titan god Chronos, who is known as the god of time. And, since its element is earth, I assume the object you’re looking for is hidden in the gardens somewhere.”
“Extraordinary.” Arthur breathes, his gaze riveted on me.
“I also assume you already know all this. I mean, isn’t that why you sent me there in the first place?”
Arthur nods, and is quick to say, “And yet, it pains me to admit how long it took to connect all the dots. Unfortunately, we’ve experienced several false leads that have served to greatly delay any progress. May I ask who taught you all this?”
My dad. Over the course of a handful of afternoons, my dad taught me things that didn’t make any sense. And for some odd reason, after lying dormant for years, buried deep inside the graveyard of my mind, all those memories are now rising to the surface, like hollow-eyed ghosts refusing to be forgotten.
To Arthur, I just shrug. Thankfully, he doesn’t push me for more, though I do have something to say.
“But if you know all this, then what do you need me for?” It’s the question I’ve been wondering all along. Arthur always hints about my having some kind of gift. But whatever that is, he’s yet to share it with me.
The look Arthur gives me is unexpectedly candid. “Because out of everyone here,” he says, “you’re the one best suited to find it. You have exactly the sort of vision I need to see this thing through.”
“I’m not sure—” I start, but Arthur raises a hand to stop me.
“You don’t need to be sure about anything,” he says. “Leave that to me. All I’m asking is that you trust what you see. I think we both know your vision has far more reach than you’re willing to admit.”
I stand silently before him, barely able to breathe, much less speak. Yet somehow, I manage to say, “Can I take that?” I gesture toward the map.
Arthur replies with a curt shake of his head. “I’ve already made that mistake. It was a copy, of course, but it never made its way back. But have another look if you please.”
I wave it off. I’ve seen all that I need to. Though there is one glaring detail Arthur’s left out. “Are you going to tell me what sort of piece I’m looking for? Is it a gem—a scrap of metal—a piece of the missing cabinet?”
Arthur, about to tuck the map back into its drawer, suddenly freezes. “How did you know about the missing cabinet?” he asks.