An idea came to me. I reached up for the largest ivy leaf I could find, about the size of a piece of paper, and pushed it through the narrow space under the door, right underneath the keyhole. Now, I needed something to poke the key with.
I spied a shrub nearby. I hurried toward it, then snapped off a twig and headed right back, jabbing the end into the hole. I wiggled it until the key loosened, then gave it a firm shove. Not too hard, not too soft. A true Goldilocks wiggle. The key fell and hit the ground—and hopefully the leaf—with a quiet clink.
A sound made me turn. Blanche stood at the corner of the monastery, watching with interest. I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. She just kept right on looking.
Didn’t expect this curveball, huh? I had one of those faces, I supposed, that made strangers underestimate me. Then again, they didn’t know I was a Merlin. If they did, maybe they’d have been a little more willing to listen to what I had to say. There was power in a name, but it wasn’t always a good sort of power. My surname elicited both responses—good and bad—and, until I knew these folks better, I wouldn’t give them the chance to make a kneejerk impression of me.
Feeling slightly pressured now that I had an audience, I tugged the leaf and pulled it out. I almost squealed at the sight of the key resting on the ivy. Blanche stared at me in disbelief. I resisted the urge to punch the air, or whoop, or gloat. After all, I still had to find out if the key worked.
Picking it up, I slotted it into the keyhole and turned it. The door clicked and opened wide, smooth as butter. I nearly lost control of my sphincter at the sight of a man looming in the doorway. The shock made me tumble backward and land awkwardly on the ground. My butt cheeks would definitely bruise.
Tall and impeccably dressed, with sweeping black hair and dark, beetle-like eyes, the man smiled down at me through thin lips.
“Félicitations, Monsieur,” he said, his tone almost impressed. “You finally found your way in. Though I would have preferred you to be quicker.” He lifted an orb of pure light to his mouth and spoke again, his voice amplified. “The riddle has been solved. All those who remain may enter through the back door.”
I frowned. “How come they get to enter?” I didn’t mind the likes of Mr. Abara, Blanche, Melody, and, to a lesser extent, Luke, coming in, but I would’ve preferred to leave Oliver and the Basani twins on the cliff. Their egos could’ve kept them company.
“This is a team exercise, and all have tried their best. If they have not fallen beyond the perimeter, then they are permitted entry. You would deny them that?”
“No, I guess not,” I replied. After all of Oliver’s harping on about doing the hard work for me, there was a bitter irony to this outcome. Oliver would be allowed in when I was the one to solve the puzzle. And I doubted I’d get any credit for it. Not from him, anyway.
The others rounded the corner and gaped at me.
“There’s no way he—”
“—found the way in!” The Basani twins didn’t pull any punches.
I smiled sweetly. “Actually, I did. You can send a thank you however you like—gift card, carrier pigeon, smoke signals.”
“Fair play to you, mate.” Oliver gave a respectful nod in my direction. “It’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for, isn’t it?”
Huh, whaddya know… I hadn’t expected any congrats from him, and I didn’t know how to accept them.
“Well done.” Mr. Abara gave me another mighty clap on the back, almost dislodging a lung.
“Yes, well done, son. You’ve done us all a great favor today,” Blanche added.
“How did you do it?” Melody stared at me in awe.
I shrugged. “I figured if magic couldn’t cut it, we needed to use something a bit more old school. Nothing a twig and a leaf couldn’t handle.”
“Of course, because wood isn’t conductive, especially not where magic is concerned. I suppose we’ve all come to rely on our Chaos, haven’t we?” Melody nodded excitedly. “You must have a very sharp mind, Finch. You could see what we couldn’t, though it seems so obvious now that you point it out. I feel like such an idiot.”
“Hey, it took some time and observation, that’s all. I’m sure someone else would’ve figured it out if I hadn’t,” I replied. Even though I’d seen Melody make wings sprout from Luke’s back, there was something about her that inspired kindness. A childlike quality.
“No need to be—”
“—condescending,” the Basani twins muttered, clearly bitter they hadn’t done what I had.
“He’s being nice,” Blanche chided. “It’s not a common trait these days.”
I turned to Etienne. “What’ll happen to the disqualified folks? They won’t drown out there, will they?”
He shook his head. “Do not worry over them. There are boats waiting to return them to the mainland, though I suspect nothing will ease their disappointment.” He gestured inside. “Shall we proceed? We’ve wasted enough time.”
I led the way into the building and met the scent of spicy incense mingled with stale stone. Relief washed over me. Maybe I’d finally learn why Erebus sent me here.
Five
Finch
My jaw dropped as we edged into the belly of the monastery. It felt ancient, with its pristine white walls bordered by vivid blue and gold. Domed ceilings let in the fierce sunlight.
Everything looked like it’d been there for centuries. An artist had painted directly onto those pristine walls, the frames drawn right on the stone, and statues lined the hallways, crafted in the images of famous magical explorers and mapmakers. I recognized Ponce de Léon in the mix, with his pals Sir Walter Raleigh, Marco Polo, Leif Erikson, and Jacques Cartier keeping him company. Small golden plaques hung below the statues, introducing them.
Underneath the domes lay pseudo-courtyards with metal chairs and tables. Many had fountains in the center, water tumbling from a variety of mouths, jugs, and the like. The figures in the middle were easily recognizable as ancient Greek gods and goddesses, in various states of conflict and undress.
“Is it just me, or is it bigger on the inside?” Blanche whispered. This place had the same effect as libraries and cathedrals—everyone slipped into a stifled hush.
I nodded. “It must be an interdimensional pocket.”
“This is so exciting! I’ve read so much about this place,” Melody gushed. “Apparently, there are hidden rooms and corridors all over, leading to secret and lost treasures.” She paused. “Why do you suddenly feel apprehensive, Mr. Biset? Is one of your treasures in here? Or should I call you Monsieur Biset? My French isn’t very good, so you’ll have to forgive me if I butcher the pronunciation.”
Etienne shot her a disapproving glance. “You should not poke your nez where it doesn’t belong, Miss Winchester. I would have thought you of all people would know better, given your own history.”
She’d clearly used her Empathy and let the words spill out without realizing she should probably keep quiet. Etienne didn’t look pleased about having his emotions publicly ruminated over.