shelf.
Antigone held up the first globe, and it looked like a collapsed umbrella.
“Okay,” she said. “So no one could ever decode all that ink writing. Not Nolan, not Rupert. Nobody. Some of it almost made sense; some they thought was maybe a weird Sanskrit. But everything they tried to translate ended up being nonsense.”
Cyrus nodded. “Right. Get to the new stuff.”
Antigone beamed. “It was nonsense, Cy. The ink on the paper globes was a distraction all along. The real stuff was written into the paper. It just needed you to dissolve all that ink off in the Archer’s stupid pool!”
Cyrus squinted at the paper. “I don’t see anything, Tigs.”
Antigone flicked on the flashlight and held the folded globe up to her brother’s face with the light right on it.
At first, Cyrus thought he was seeing white fibers in the yellowed paper, much lighter than the rest. He leaned closer. The fibers looped together much too neatly, and there was a lot more of it than he had first noticed. It was writing as tight and sharp and fine as any he had ever seen. But it wasn’t English. He couldn’t make out a single word.
“It’s tiny,” Cyrus said. “We need a magnifying glass.And it’s not English, Tigs. I don’t know what you’re seeing that I’m not.”
“Oh, come on,” Antigone said. “Is it that hard to figure out?”
She carefully expanded the paper, pulling it out into something like the original globe.
“It’s English,” she said, and she slid the glowing flashlight up inside the globe. Then she rotated the paper carefully until she had found what she was looking for. “But it’s all backward.” She glanced at her brother with half a smile. “Don’t you remember what came with it?” she asked. “A candle for the inside. That was the clue. I put the flashlight inside it and …” She pointed the lit paper at the outhouse wall, suddenly spraying a murky cloud of light across it. Inside the cloud, pale cursive letters crawled across knotholes and planks.
“Wow,” Cyrus said. “Wow.”
“Correct,” said Antigone. “I know.”
Cyrus stepped forward and put his hand under his sister’s, trying to steady the wobbling light.
“ ‘To Antigone Elizabeth and Cyrus Lawrence,’ ” he read aloud, “ ‘I leave you this, my …’ What’s that say?”
“ ‘My Empire of Bones,’ ” Antigone said. Her voice was low. “And there’s a whole letter that comes after.”
five
DEAD MAN’S TALE
A NTIGONE HANDED C YRUS THE PAPER and the flashlight. When he pulled back from the wall a little too far, the words disappeared in a blur. When he leaned forward, they sharpened.
Antigone tapped the planks. “Slide the light down. Read the letter.”
Cyrus tried to adjust the flashlight and the paper, but he was hopeless, spraying blurry lines sideways or losing his place. He gave it back to Antigone.
“You do it,” he said. “You were the one who kept that screen and the old movie projector in your room.”
Antigone was distracted, her eyes on the wall. “This … is … nothing like that, Cy.” But she stepped up close to the wall, adjusted the flashlight, and old, dead William Skelton’s words immediately came into focus four lines at a time. She read the whole thing aloud as she went, pausing only to smooth the paper or shift the light. Cyrus watched the tight cursive words slide by as he listened to his sister’s voice.
To Antigone Elizabeth and Cyrus Lawrence ,
I leave you this, my Empire of Bones. Keep it tight to yourselves. Secret. You hold the Dark Tooth, and no one—no one—must know that you possess it. If Ashtown grows unsafe, run and don’t ever look back. The O of B has been dying since your father was a kid, but if you can keep the tooth hidden, the Order might still win its war with Phoenix. Or it won’t, but at least you’ll be breathing. Every little thing that I collected and hid in my outlaw years is charted in this map. All of it is
Antigone held up the first globe, and it looked like a collapsed umbrella.
“Okay,” she said. “So no one could ever decode all that ink writing. Not Nolan, not Rupert. Nobody. Some of it almost made sense; some they thought was maybe a weird Sanskrit. But everything they tried to translate ended up being nonsense.”
Cyrus nodded. “Right. Get to the new stuff.”
Antigone beamed. “It was nonsense, Cy. The ink on the paper globes was a distraction all along. The real stuff was written into the paper. It just needed you to dissolve all that ink off in the Archer’s stupid pool!”
Cyrus squinted at the paper. “I don’t see anything, Tigs.”
Antigone flicked on the flashlight and held the folded globe up to her brother’s face with the light right on it.
At first, Cyrus thought he was seeing white fibers in the yellowed paper, much lighter than the rest. He leaned closer. The fibers looped together much too neatly, and there was a lot more of it than he had first noticed. It was writing as tight and sharp and fine as any he had ever seen. But it wasn’t English. He couldn’t make out a single word.
“It’s tiny,” Cyrus said. “We need a magnifying glass.And it’s not English, Tigs. I don’t know what you’re seeing that I’m not.”
“Oh, come on,” Antigone said. “Is it that hard to figure out?”
She carefully expanded the paper, pulling it out into something like the original globe.
“It’s English,” she said, and she slid the glowing flashlight up inside the globe. Then she rotated the paper carefully until she had found what she was looking for. “But it’s all backward.” She glanced at her brother with half a smile. “Don’t you remember what came with it?” she asked. “A candle for the inside. That was the clue. I put the flashlight inside it and …” She pointed the lit paper at the outhouse wall, suddenly spraying a murky cloud of light across it. Inside the cloud, pale cursive letters crawled across knotholes and planks.
“Wow,” Cyrus said. “Wow.”
“Correct,” said Antigone. “I know.”
Cyrus stepped forward and put his hand under his sister’s, trying to steady the wobbling light.
“ ‘To Antigone Elizabeth and Cyrus Lawrence,’ ” he read aloud, “ ‘I leave you this, my …’ What’s that say?”
“ ‘My Empire of Bones,’ ” Antigone said. Her voice was low. “And there’s a whole letter that comes after.”
five
DEAD MAN’S TALE
A NTIGONE HANDED C YRUS THE PAPER and the flashlight. When he pulled back from the wall a little too far, the words disappeared in a blur. When he leaned forward, they sharpened.
Antigone tapped the planks. “Slide the light down. Read the letter.”
Cyrus tried to adjust the flashlight and the paper, but he was hopeless, spraying blurry lines sideways or losing his place. He gave it back to Antigone.
“You do it,” he said. “You were the one who kept that screen and the old movie projector in your room.”
Antigone was distracted, her eyes on the wall. “This … is … nothing like that, Cy.” But she stepped up close to the wall, adjusted the flashlight, and old, dead William Skelton’s words immediately came into focus four lines at a time. She read the whole thing aloud as she went, pausing only to smooth the paper or shift the light. Cyrus watched the tight cursive words slide by as he listened to his sister’s voice.
To Antigone Elizabeth and Cyrus Lawrence ,
I leave you this, my Empire of Bones. Keep it tight to yourselves. Secret. You hold the Dark Tooth, and no one—no one—must know that you possess it. If Ashtown grows unsafe, run and don’t ever look back. The O of B has been dying since your father was a kid, but if you can keep the tooth hidden, the Order might still win its war with Phoenix. Or it won’t, but at least you’ll be breathing. Every little thing that I collected and hid in my outlaw years is charted in this map. All of it is
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