He had a huge smile on his face.
Below him, thousands of citizens were fighting to the death, storming the building. On the other side, the savage seven were tearing apart the guards from the inside. Within minutes, they would be free, roaming the streets with the others, and they would weak destruction of a scale that Paris had never known.
Kyle hadn’t felt so giddy since he was a boy. This was exactly what he had needed. Now he could find and kil Caitlin quite easily.
Now, his revolution could begin.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Caitlin sat on her bed, staring down at the open container in surprise. Inside it lay a delicate scrol , curled up, and sealed in wax. On the wax was an insignia of a smal , ancient cross, one which Caitlin immediately recognized as identical to the design of the smal silver cross that she wore around her neck. Caitlin reached down and felt her necklace now as she looked at the symbol, and felt comforted to know that it was stil there.
She reached out and took hold of the scrol . It was brittle, written on a hard parchment, and yel owing. It looked ancient.
She gingerly broke the seal, and unrol ed it.
The first thing she noticed was that the scrol ended abruptly as she was halfway through unrol ing it. She looked at the bottom, and saw the torn ridges, and she could tel right away that this was an incomplete scrol , apparently torn in half. She only held the top half.
She looked at the scrol , and observed the elegant handwriting. It reminded her of the script she had once seen when looking at a copy of the Declaration of Independence: it was so perfect, it was hard to imagine it had been done by a human hand.
She felt her hands trembling as she stared at it, realizing that this was the script of her father.
That he real y existed. That he’d real y left something for her. That he cared enough about her enough to do so. She felt her heart lift, and felt more determined than ever to fulfil her mission—
and to find him. She read each word with utter fixation: 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 al 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 wil .
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 wil first have to go to the Fields of the Scholars—
The letter was torn right there, in mid-sentence.
Caitlin read it a second time, and a third time, then final y set it down.
She leaned back, her mind spinning. Holding this was overwhelming. Her mission felt more real, and more pressing, than ever.
But she was also confused. The Fields of the Scholars?
Where on earth could that be?
She was more determined than ever to embark right away, to embrace her mission, to head there immediately, wherever it was, and to find the second key.
But before Caitlin had any more time to dwel on where this place may be, there was a sudden knock at her door.
She started to get up from bed, but before she could even reach it, the door swung open by itself.
In strutted Pol y, a huge smile on her face, beaming. She was dressed in a lavish, formal outfit, a long, satin pink gown with white trim, her hair pul ed back in a bun, and her face careful y made-up and powdered.
Ruth ran up to her, so happy to see her, jumping at her feet.
“Oh my God, why are you not dressed!?” Pol y began. “The
“Oh my God, why are you not dressed!?” Pol y began. “The concert is tonight!”
She rushed into the room and immediately began to ruffle through Caitlin’s wardrobe, as if to prepare an outfit for her.
Caitlin sat on the edge of her bed, confused.
“What concert?” she asked.
“Didn’t I tel you? He’s singing tonight. My boyfriend. You have to come. Everyone wil be there!”
Pol y came running over excitedly, grabbing Caitlin’s arm and pul ing her up off the bed and onto her feet.
“Not to mention, dinner is starting now,” Pol y continued.
“There’s always a feast before a concert. Everyone’s going to be expecting you!”
Caitlin withdrew her hand from Pol y’s grasp, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Pol y,” she said. “But I can’t go. I’m actual y about to leave Versail es.”
Pol y looked incredulous.
“What are you talking about? We barely had time to talk to each other! What do you mean leave?
Where!? You just got here!”
“I’m sorry,” Caitlin answered, “but I need to find my father.
I’m going back to Paris. To the Notre Dame. I feel that he’s there, or that there might a clue there to lead me to him.”
She watched Pol y’s face fal in disappointment.
“And we haven’t had time to talk because you’ve been so wrapped up with this singer,” Caitlin added. She felt that she had to let her know how she was feeling.
Pol y looked down, looking sad for the first time Caitlin had ever known her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just…” She looked up, and her eyes were suddenly beaming again. “This guy is just so amazing. You have to meet him. Please. I promise, after tonight, things wil be different. We’l hang out a lot more. It’s just the beginning.
He hasn’t met any of my friends yet. I want you to be the first!”
Caitlin sighed, not knowing what to do. On the one hand, she wanted to leave right now. But on the other, she certainly didn’t want to let Pol y—or anyone else—down.
Especial y since everyone had been so hospitable to her here. After al , it was already night, and she didn’t see the harm in waiting until the morning. And looking at Pol y, she could see how much it meant for her to meet this guy. She could see how much it meant for her to meet this guy. She could understand. If the situation were reversed, and it were about Caleb, she might feel the same way, too.
Most of al , Pol y always managed to touch a soft spot in her heart.
“Okay,” Caitlin said, “but I’l just stay tonight. Tomorrow, I leave.”