The 39 Clues Turbulence

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Authors: Riley Clifford
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    Eleven Months After the Clue Hunt
     
    Fifteen-year-old Amy Cahill had seen a lot of angry faces on the hunt for the 39 Clues. The museum guards who’d screamed at her in countless languages. The backstabbing family members she’d outwitted. Those furious Benedictine monks. But none of those expressions quite matched the look of pure loathing on Saladin’s face as the silver cat glared at Amy, his whiskers twitching with rage.
    “I’m sorry , Saladin,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “I don’t know where the contractor put the laundry room key. I’ll have to find it later, okay?” She glanced down at her watch. The other Cahills would be here any minute, and she still hadn’t figured out where the movers had stashed the extra bedding.
    The cat flattened his ears. Amy reached out to scratch his fluffy head, but he pulled back and hissed. Ever since they’d moved into their grandmother Grace’s partially rebuilt mansion, Saladin had taken possession of the small laundry room next to the kitchen. Normally, the regal cat would’ve turned up his damp nose at such undignified accommodations, but it was the only spot in the new house where he would sleep. After four months of crisscrossing the globe with his Clue-hunting owners, the cat had made it clear that his traveling days were over. Amy wasn’t an expert in feline psychology, but she was pretty sure the cat figured if he slept under the dryer, there was less of a chance that he’d be kidnapped in the middle of the night and whisked off to Tibet.
    It had been almost a year since they’d returned to Massachusetts, but Saladin wasn’t the only member of the Cahill family who was having trouble adjusting. Amy had known it was going to be difficult — how did you go from a global hunt for the most valuable secret on Earth to biology class with Mrs. Schneider, who always smelled like onion soup? But she hadn’t expected the nightmares. Or the strange flutter in her chest that never went away, no matter how many deep breaths she took.
    A thunderous crash shook the kitchen, causing Saladin to leap off the counter and Amy to duck for cover.
    She certainly hadn’t expected a little brother with a death wish.
    “Dan!” Amy screamed, turning toward the ceiling, which was, miraculously, still intact. “ Dan! ” She groaned as she rose slowly to her feet. The kickboxing class she’d been taking left her muscles feeling like they’d been run over by a steamroller. She stepped forward and winced. Maybe it wasn’t too late to reschedule this afternoon’s rock-climbing lesson.
    She limped toward the stairs but forced herself to walk up properly. This is how you get stronger , she told herself. Amy glanced down at her gold watch and tried to ignore the image that flashed through her head. The silver knife glittering in the cold sunlight. The smile on the Vesper agent’s face as he fingered the blade. She’d thought they’d be safe after the Clue hunt ended, but it turned out she and Dan were in more danger than ever. Their family’s historic enemy, the Vespers, had chosen this moment to emerge from the shadows. Amy and Dan had barely survived the first attack. Next time, they might not be so lucky.
    She pushed herself up another step and grimaced. Next time, I won’t have to count on luck. She paused as the burning in her calves crept up the backs of her legs, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear that had been growing in her stomach. Next time, we’ll be ready.
    When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw her younger brother, Dan, sitting amid a mound of broken wood and shattered glass.
    Or, at least, I’ll be ready.
    Dan’s new snowboard was strapped to his feet and his hair was matted with white flakes. Except it wasn’t snow — it was plaster from the ceiling. Three construction workers were standing nearby, laughing. One was taking a photo of Dan with his cell phone. The grin on her brother’s face was so wide Amy didn’t

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