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Authors: Maggie Hall

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BOOK: Map of Fates
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We all glanced at each other. “Do you have a photo of the bracelet?” Stellan asked. The docent disappeared into a back office and
came back minutes later with a file folder. She handed us a snapshot, and our collective intake of breath was almost comical.

“What is your interest in it?” the docent asked.

“We're scholars of Napoleon history,” Elodie said, squinting at the photo. I looked over her shoulder. There was an inscription visible on it, just like there was on mine. Elodie read it out loud, in French, then translated. “
Only through the union will my twin and I reveal the dark secret we keep in our hearts,
” she said, and to the docent, “Do you mind if I take a photo of this picture?”

• • •

Back at the boat, we all leaned over Jack's phone, which was on speaker in the middle of the table. Elodie had angled the photo she took to capture the file folder the docent was holding as well, and on the paperwork, there was the name and phone number of the collector who now owned the bracelet. The number was ringing. And ringing. Finally, an answering machine picked up. During the long message in French, everyone's faces fell. “The collector passed away,” Jack translated after he hung up. “The items have been willed to museums or are being sold off to other private collections.”

I leaned my head back against the bench seat. “There has to be some way to find out where the bracelet ended up.”

“I doubt his estate would give out that information,” Colette said.

“What did the new inscription say again?” I said to the faux wood ceiling.

Elodie repeated it. “‘Only through the union will my twin and I reveal the dark secret we keep in our hearts.'”

I sat up and ran a finger over the matching bracelet on my arm. It had gotten dusty. “‘In our hearts.' It sounds like there's something
inside
the bracelets. Not just that we'll get another clue when the letters line up.” I couldn't imagine what would fit inside, but everyone else
nodded. “Which means we have to physically have the other one, too. Seeing this clue on it isn't enough.” I looked at Luc, who was perched on a bar stool, his shirt smudged with dirt. “The collector was French. Can't you force whoever's taking care of the collection to tell you where the bracelet is?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Probably, yes. I might have to go back to France and make some calls.”

“Okay,” I said. “Good. I was thinking you should leave, anyway, after that false alarm today. If anything happened to you while you were helping me . . .”

“I agree.” Elodie smoothed her hair behind her ears with both hands, then let it fall forward again. I wouldn't have thought someone like Elodie would have a nervous tic, but her hair was definitely it. “But the problem is that this clue mentions the union. ‘Only through the union will my twin and I reveal the dark secret we keep in our hearts.' Luc's the only one here capable of fulfilling the union with Avery if it comes to that. And this seems to imply that somebody's going to have to get married after all. Or just skip ahead to the baby making?” Elodie elbowed Luc.

I watched Stellan's fingers tap out a suddenly quicker rhythm on the tabletop. Jack's mouth was set in a straight line.

“What?” Elodie said. Of course she'd caught that little look. Now she stood up, so abruptly the table shook and rattled the untouched tray of pastries Colette had set out. “I knew it. I
knew
you weren't telling us everything. If there's more, we deserve to know.”

Beside me, Jack shifted in his seat. I put a silencing hand on his knee. It wasn't his secret to tell, or mine.

Stellan dragged a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face. “All right,” he said. “Yes, we know more than we've told you about the identity of the One.”

Elodie huffed out a frustrated breath. “Well? What? Is it not just whichever Circle boy Avery marries?”

Stellan shook his head and touched the scars on the back of his neck. “It's someone specific. It's not Luc. It's not any of the others, either.”

Elodie, Luc, and Colette all frowned in unison. “What does that mean?” Elodie demanded.

“It's not a member of the twelve families at all,” Stellan continued. His eyes met mine before he continued, “It's me.”

CHAPTER
14

E
lodie was the most skeptical at first, but now she grinned, then fixed me, Jack, and Stellan with pointed looks. “So you two,” she said, looking from me to Jack, “are . . . whatever you are. And you two”—her gaze flicked back to me and to Stellan—“are supposed to be getting
married
?”

“Yes,” I said shortly.

“Ooh, and that's why you acted so strange when I mentioned a baby,” Elodie went on. “Now
this
is fun.”

“Don't be mean, El,” Luc said distractedly. He scrubbed a hand through his already-wild brown hair. “So there's no way
I'm
 . . .”

“Assuming we're right,” Jack answered, “no.”

Luc paced the galley kitchen and flicked the bamboo blinds over the sink. “That's a relief,” he said. “Thank God. What a relief, right?”

I realized for the first time that the idea of the power appealed to Luc as much as it did to everyone else.

“At least you know you won't have to marry me,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“That would have been
terrible,
” Luc quipped. He ran a distracted hand over my hair, and I squeezed his fingers.

“Well then. There's no reason for Luc to stay here.” Elodie stood up, already pulling out her phone. Luc tried to protest, but she cut him off.

“You can get back to Paris and contact the museum. It makes the most sense. You're on a plane back to France as soon as they can send one.”

• • •

Later, I stood on the upper deck watching the sun go down in spectacular fashion, all oranges and cotton candy pinks over the water. The sea breeze was fresh and cool and smelled like salt, and the hot tub behind me bubbled happily. Stellan had taken Luc to a plane, and the rest of us had been looking over the clue again. I'd had to take a breather after we got another text from the Order.
Six days.
But that hardly mattered since, according to the Saxons, I didn't even have that much time. My sister had texted earlier that they were in Beijing. Apparently she and Cole had accompanied my father to try to smooth over how rude I was being by not showing up myself. But even without me there, the visits were progressing as planned, with my fate growing closer by the hour.

The doors behind me slid open, and Jack came out. “Doing okay?”

I nodded.

He shifted, staring out at the water. “That person you thought you saw earlier . . . I know it turned out to be nothing, but if it had been, and you'd gone after them . . .”

I frowned at the sunset.

“I know you don't think the Order will disrupt your search,” he went on, “but what if they've heard the union is happening sooner than they thought, and they want to stop it?”

I hadn't thought of that.

Jack rubbed at the compass tattoo on his forearm. “Maybe we should reconsider letting the Saxons' people go out in the field instead of you.”

I huffed out a frustrated breath. “We're
not
doing that.”

“There might come a point where I don't think it should be entirely your choice,” he said.

I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I don't mean—I only mean to say your judgment is clouded. For good reason. But—”

“Don't.”

“Avery—”

“No. I have been very clear about how I feel, and if you can't respect that, we're just not going to talk about it anymore.” I turned away from him and hugged my arms around my chest. The last couple times he'd said things like this, I'd tried to make excuses. He was worried. He didn't really mean it. But it was getting harder to deny that he
did
mean what he was saying.

I felt him watching me for a second, and he finally said, “I'm going for a walk.”

He disappeared into the cabin. When I was sure he was gone, I made my way inside, too. I heard Elodie and Colette talking in the other room, and I paced the three steps from the bedroom area to the kitchen. I grabbed a handful of dark red cherries from a bowl and sat at the breakfast bar, plucking the stems off them and rolling them around on the counter in little agitated circles. Across the deck, I watched the turquoise water of the Mediterranean turn orange from the setting sun.

“What did that fruit do to you?”

I frowned up at Stellan and then cursed when a cherry squished
under my fingers, spraying bloodred juice across the marble and onto the front of my dress.

“Or maybe the better question is, What did Bishop do to you? What was that little fight about?”

It wasn't a fight, I started to say, wiping at the cherry juice. “I don't know,” I found myself saying instead, and then added quickly, “It wasn't a fight. It's none of your business.”

“Let me guess.” Stellan took one of my cherries and popped it in his mouth. “He's worried about your safety, etcetera, etcetera.”

I wrinkled my nose. “We weren't
fighting,
” I said again. I wanted it to be true. Jack was the one person I was sure I could trust. And if we disagreed so strongly about this, it meant one of two things I didn't want it to mean. Either I couldn't trust him as much as I thought—or he was right and I was going about this all wrong.

Stellan leaned on the counter across from me. “He wants to keep you safe. It's sort of his thing, if you hadn't noticed.”

I didn't even bother looking up from my cherries.

“It's valid,” he continued. “There could be people trying to kill you. And I've seen your sparring sessions. You're not very good.”

I pushed my stool back and stalked across the room for a napkin. “Do you spy on
everything
I do?”

“You were training on this boat. Anyone with eyes was ‘spying' on you.” Stellan sat at the table, resting one long arm across the back of the bench.

“I—” I didn't know what to say in response, because he was right. “Just shut up.”

“If you ever need somebody else to train with,” Stellan said after a minute. “For whatever reason . . .”

“Thanks but no thanks,” I said.

“You know,” he said, “it's remarkable to me that you are willing to train so much, to come up with all these dangerous, difficult schemes, but you're not willing to even
consider
the way the Circle has interpreted the union for centuries.”

I tossed the napkin onto the mutilated fruit. “We've actually gotten really far with the clues, if you hadn't noticed. Either way, I'm not marrying you.”

“Turned down before I could even propose,” Stellan sighed. “You're going to give a guy a complex.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” But I couldn't deny that the little voice in the back of my mind was wondering how much longer I could go before seriously considering it. This new clue left little doubt the union actually was important. Us getting
married
still made no sense in the context of unlocking the bracelets, but if nothing else worked . . . And what if it could get lots of people behind us, searching for my mom? What if it helped in finding the tomb after all? I knew marrying any other Circle members would do nothing, but with Stellan, there was a chance. An insane, far-fetched chance, but still a chance.

“If we did it—” It was the first time I'd ever said it out loud. “Not that we
are,
but if we did, it would mean outing yourself. Which we
think
they might accept if we came out together, but could also be dangerous.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

“And, you know, pledging your eternal love to me.” I opened a cupboard, surveying the huge amount of food Colette had.

“You do yourself a disservice if you think that's as repulsive as you're implying.” The boat rocked suddenly in what must have been the wake of another boat speeding by. “Plus, there's the happy fact
that the Circle's wedding ceremony requires the marriage to be consummated immediately for it to be valid.”

I pulled out a jar of Nutella and a spoon and rolled my eyes. “No it doesn't.”

“It does. It's part of the ceremony—a holdover from medieval times. The priest and the families and a few special guests watch. To make sure it happens.”

I paused with the spoon halfway to my mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as you can be about live pornography.”

“So if the wedding with Luc had happened . . .”

Stellan nodded. I sat down heavily in the chair across from him.

“Have you ever seen . . . ?”

“Sadly, no,” he said. “Luc's the only Dauphin child—well, he was until recently—and so there's been no occasion for it.”

I rested my elbows on the table. “That doesn't matter. We're not getting married, so we won't have to actually—” I waved one hand.

“I think that might be more offensive than saying no to the marriage part,” Stellan mused.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. After a few seconds, I said, “What if, hypothetically, we were to . . . pretend. Would they believe us if we
said
we'd gotten married?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. It'd be our word against any doubters. But if it was only pretend, we wouldn't get the benefit of the union for finding the tomb. Or unlocking the bracelets.”

“If ‘union' actually does mean ‘marriage.'” I drew my feet up onto the seat and wrapped my arms around my knees. As usual, this argument was going nowhere.

“Will someone throw me the white top drying by the door?” a voice called from the bedrooms. Colette stuck her head around the
corner, arms crossed over her more-than-ample chest. She wore only a pink polka-dotted bra and a flowing skirt.

I turned around quickly, averting my eyes. Stellan didn't. He gave her a teasing smile. “No,” he said. “We won't.”

Colette gave him a look of mock outrage and teased back in French. I grabbed the shirt and tossed it toward her.

“Thank you,
cherie,
” she said, shooting an eye roll in Stellan's direction before disappearing back into the room.

When the door closed behind her, I turned to Stellan. “Her boyfriend just died.”

“Yes.”

“You're
flirting
with her.” He'd been doing it since we got to Greece. She'd cozy up to his side; he'd whisper something that made her giggle.

“Hmm. I take issue with that categorization. Technically, she's flirting with
me.
I'm just following her lead.” The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, and Stellan made his way outside.

I followed. “Don't you dare take advantage of Colette. I like her.”

He looked back inside and lowered his voice. “I like her, too. That's the point. People grieve in different ways. Lettie wants a distraction, so I'm being nice.”

“Does
she
know that?”

He cocked his head to one side, and the sea breeze rippled his white button-down shirt. “Yes. How can I make you understand this? Lettie . . . she's been in the spotlight for so long that she hates being alone. Being adored is her safe place. But everyone who usually fawns over her just treats her like a sad war widow now.” He paused, and I let it sink in. I'd never really thought about Colette that way. Stellan continued, “Harmless flirting happens to serve both our interests. And yours, really.”


My
interests?”

“If she's happy, she's more likely to help us with whatever insane plan you think up next.”

I paced down the stairs to the lower deck, Stellan on my heels.

“Do you always use sex to get your way?” I said, swirling a finger on a water mark on the top of the bar.

He scowled. “I'm not sleeping with her. As you so judgingly pointed out, her boyfriend just died. Her boyfriend who was a friend of mine, I might add, just like Colette is. I have
some
morals, you know.” He paused. “And anyway, girls do it all the time.”

I started to protest, but he went on. “Listen. I said I'd train you. Here's a lesson that doesn't have to do with fighting. Being
nice
doesn't get you far in the world of the Circle. You have to use whatever tools you have to get ahead.”

He sounded surprisingly bitter. And the conversation sounded over.

“Just . . . don't take advantage of her,” I said.

Stellan held up his hands in surrender or exasperation or both and settled down on a lounge chair two down from mine. After a few minutes, he gestured to the bracelet on my arm. I handed it over, and he spun it to a new word, paused when nothing happened, then tried a few more before handing it back to me.

I slipped it on my arm. “Three days,” I said under my breath.

Stellan looked out at the water. “That bracelet is somewhere. We'll find it.”

“Maybe,” I said bitterly. “If I'm still allowed to, between the Saxons and Jack.” I didn't really mean to, but I found myself telling Stellan about Jack wanting to bring my family into our search. “Being able to follow these clues myself is the only thing I still had a choice in, and if it were up to Jack, even that wouldn't be my decision anymore.”

BOOK: Map of Fates
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