Sam could see the horrified expressions on the faces of Marie and her entourage.
Aiden stepped up, and mobilized his team.
“Taylor and Tyler, you protect the East wing,” he ordered, and they burst into action.
“Cain, you cover the Western entrance. I will help hold these doors myself. And Lily, please accompany Marie back to her quarters. The rest of my men will guard you.”
Sam walked up to him. He turned and looked at Sam, and Sam felt as if he was staring at him with disapproval.
“Go help your sister,” Aiden ordered, disapprovingly. “You have harmed her enough already.”
Sam felt a pang of guilt race through him, as he thought of Kendra and her ominous words about Caitlin.
Polly ran up to them.
“It’s all my fault!” she cried. “I was deceived by Sergei. He asked where Caitlin was going. I told him about the Notre Dame!”
Aiden shook his head. “Go and join Sam. She will need all of your help. And no matter what happens, make sure nothing stops her from getting the Shield.”
Sam turned to Polly. “I made a mistake,” he said. “I need to make it up. I need to try to rescue Caitlin.”
“Me, too,” Polly said. “I’m coming with you.”
The door shook, as several more people banged against it.
“GO!” Aiden yelled.
Sam took off at a running start, and felt Polly right behind him. He leapt high up into the air, through an open window, and flew into the night.
Soon, the two of them were high in the air, racing towards the horizon.
He was determined to do whatever it took to save his sister.
And if that meant killing Kendra, then so be it.
Chapter Thirty Six
Caitlin unrolled the new scroll with shaking hands. Her heart pounded as she realized that it was the second half of her Dad’s letter.
She quickly took out the first half of the letter, unrolled it, and held it up to this one. As she put them together, she saw that the ridges fit perfectly, and that now, finally, it was one complete letter.
She read the entire letter again, from the beginning:
My dearest Caitlin:
If you are reading this, you have already surpassed many obstacles. It means that you have already chosen to travel the road less traveled, to take the difficult path. For that, I commend you. You are truly your father’s daughter.
You must forgive all the riddles, codes, letters, and keys, but the secret that I guard is most powerful, and must be broken into fragments, to prevent others from decoding it. Only the truly worthy – only yourself – are meant to decode the secret that you ultimately will.
If you are reading this, you already have one key in your possession. You must obtain the final three to reach me.
The second key is your focus now. To find it, you will first have to go to the Fields of the Scholars —
Now Caitlin lifted the second half of the letter:
– and you will need to visit the Notre Dame and retrieve the key. The dagger will point the way. And don’t forget: the island is a big place.
We will be together soon.
I love you.
Caitlin read the letter again and again, completely bewildered. The dagger will point the way? What dagger?
Caitlin checked back inside the marble compartment, wondering if she had missed something. She reached in deeper than she had at first, combing its walls with their hands.
And then she felt it. Something was attached to the back of it.
She pulled hard, and out came a small, silver dagger. She was shocked. She had almost overlooked it.
Now she had the dagger, and she assumed that she would need to use it, somehow, in the Notre Dame, in order to find the key.
But what did he mean when he said that the island was a big place?
All the clues seemed to indicate that the Notre Dame was the last stop. But then again, something bothered her about his letter. It felt too obvious, too straightforward to her. She felt that there was some embedded message in there she was missing.
At least Caitlin knew where she needed to go next.
As she stood to go, there was a sudden bang at the door, followed by the smashing of stained glass all around her.
She heard a chorus of angry shouts, and knew it was the mob. The humans, in the midst of their revolution. Her heart broke to see such beautiful precious, ancient glass shattering, falling to pieces all around her.
But this was not her war. Not her revolution. She had another war to wage. One far more dangerous.
And it began in the Notre Dame.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Caleb flew through the night, determined to rush back to Caitlin’s side. He hated himself. He didn’t understand how he could have been so stupid, so naïve. So easily misled.
Worse, he had left Caitlin for nothing. He had ruined their moment, the very time he was about to propose, the very peak of their love, to run off for an illusion. For a false belief that his son was still alive.
He would never forgive Sera for what she’d done. For ruining his life – again.
But more importantly, he would never forgive himself for being so stupid. He should have listened to Caitlin, and stayed put.
As he flew, Caleb closed his eyes, and the image passed through it again: he recalled his arriving back at his castle, and the sinking feeling of finding it empty. Caitlin gone. He had run through empty room after empty room, and had finally realized that she had left him.
Ever since then, he had combed the skies, had looked for her everywhere. Now he was combing Paris, block by block.
As he did, he received a sudden signal, like an electric shock to his system. It was the signal of Caitlin. Of her presence. Of her being in distress. He could feel it, in every pore of his body. She was in trouble, he was certain of it. And he could now feel where it was coming from. From deep inside Paris.
Caleb changed course, heading towards a different section of Paris with new speed, new resolve. He was determined to find her this time, and to make wrongs right.
This time, it would be different. This time, they would really make a new start of it. Truly be together forever. This time he knew, there would be nothing to stand in their way.
And when they finally did get a moment together, alone, he would ask her the question he’d been dying to ask her from the start.
He would ask if she would be his wife.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Caitlin flew the short distance from Saint Germain Des Pres over the Seine river, and then over the Ile de la Cite. She circled the small, narrow island slowly, trying to take it all in. There, of course, was the Notre Dame, huge, enormous, towering over everything, the largest building on the island. It was an overwhelming structure. The thought of finding whatever it was she needed inside it seemed daunting.
She circled the island again, trying to take it all in context, and noticed that the Notre Dame wasn’t the only building on it. There were rows of medieval houses, crooked alleyways, cobblestone streets, and other buildings spread throughout. She looked down to see if the mobs were here, too, as they seemed to be everywhere else in Paris. Strangely enough, they were not. In fact, the square in front of the Notre Dame was completely empty. She found that to be odd. Why would the masses revolt everywhere else in the city, but not in its most famous place? Who was controlling them, exactly?
Caitlin swooped down lower, looking more carefully. All was eerily silent. Was it a trap?
Caitlin landed in the huge, stone plaza before the church, having it to herself, and set Ruth down. The church was lit up by dozens of torches, and she stared up at its edifice in awe. It was massive, with huge, arched doors, and dozens of figures carved over it. She had been to many churches on her journey: she thought of the Duomo in Florence, St. Mark’s in Venice, and dozens of others – but she had never been to a church as large as this. She also couldn’t help remembering that she had begun her journey here: did that hold some significance? Was she coming full circle?