CHAPTER 17

Once we’d gotten to the dock, I’d told Stellan I wanted to stop and get pastries, and he just shrugged and left me alone. Back at the boat, Elodie was lounging on the deck. She opened one eye. “There you are, and without either of your boyfriends. I’m sure at least one of them is looking for you.”

I glanced behind her, hoping neither of them was listening. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s true, though.” Elodie stood and crossed the deck to lean out over the railing. “I understand why they’re so fascinated with you, what with the whole savior of the Circle thing, but you’re right—it’s not fair to mess with them both, and it’s not fair to the rest of us for the three of you to be doing . . . whatever you’re doing, when you should be clearheaded and concentrating on not getting us killed.”

“We’re not—” I snapped my mouth shut. Elodie wanted an argument. “We’re on the trail of maybe the most important discovery in world history and this is what you want to talk about? I’m already bored with this conversation,” I said, stepping around her and ignoring the obnoxious smirk on her face.

“You should find Jackie, though,” she called after me. “He has that worried look on his face. I hate that look.”

Jack was pacing back and forth on the front deck of the boat, and came into the kitchen when he saw me. Through an upper window I saw Stellan sitting on the top deck, alone.

Jack didn’t ask where we’d been all morning, but the quick narrowing of his eyes said everything he didn’t.

I held out the bag. “We woke up early,” I said awkwardly. After I’d almost drowned last night, Jack and I hadn’t talked about the fight we’d had, but now it was hanging in the air. “We were taking a walk, then Stellan wanted to come back, but I wanted to get food and—” Why was I lying? “Breakfast,” I said, shoving the bag of pastries in his hands.

Jack looked over his shoulder at the giant bowl of fruit on the table, at the fridge stuffed with food.

“Colette doesn’t have fresh bougatsa.” He opened the bag, and the smell wafted through the room. “It’s phyllo dough and custard. I thought you might like it.”

The boat swayed just a little bit in the morning breeze.

After a second, Jack tossed the pastries on the table, pulled a chair out, and pulled me down into his lap. I hugged him tight.

“How are you feeling?” he said into the top of my head.

“I’m actually fine.” Surprisingly. My chest and throat were still a little sore, but running around and training didn’t seem to have aggravated it.

Over his shoulder, I saw Elodie emerge onto the upper deck and glance in at us before talking to Stellan. I got off Jack’s lap and spread the bougatsa on a plate. In a few minutes, Stellan and Elodie joined us, followed by Colette.

“I hate to break up this party, but I may have to,” Colette said, tying shut a rose-colored silk robe before taking a seat at the booth next to Stellan. “I have a film festival to attend.” Stellan rested his arm across her shoulders. I pretended not to notice. I wasn’t sure why I did notice.

“There’s nothing else to find here, anyway,” Jack said. “Is there?”

“And there’s no more time,” I said.

They all exchanged glances, and I knew they were thinking about my Saxon-imposed deadline. Even I wasn’t sure what I’d do when the clock ran out, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that marrying Daniel Melech or Jakob Hersch or any of the others wasn’t an option.

“I talked to Luc earlier,” Elodie said. “He’s been looking into the twin bracelet. He doesn’t have anything yet, but he thinks he will soon.”

“I hope ‘soon’ means in the next few hours,” I said under my breath. I grabbed the bracelet from the top of the fridge, where it had been sitting since we’d retrieved it from the ice bucket the night before, and spun the rings of letters, willing it to give up its secrets.

“I have to leave tonight,” Colette said. “Until then, we hope for a miracle.”

For the next few hours, the five of us sprawled around the yacht, on lounge chairs, on the floor, in the sparkling midday sunlight out on the deck, all deep in thought. Elodie was muttering to herself about the scientific implications of what a blood union could mean. Jack had written all the clues down and was trying slightly different translations. I had a thesaurus, a translation dictionary, and regular old Google search up on my phone. The bracelet was next to me, and every once in a while, I’d try a new password. By lunchtime, though, I could barely put a sentence together, much less think about synonyms and riddles and how I wished I knew French idioms. I was about to throw the bracelet across the room.

“Where will we go?” Jack said quietly from the deck chair next to me. “Paris?”

I buried my face in my hands. “I guess.” The bracelet being in France made as much sense as anything.

Jack nodded. “I’ll tell everybody.”

I glared at the bracelet through my spread fingers. We had to be missing something.

Look where he looks. Those who gave all hold the key. Then there was the bracelet we already had: Only to the true. True. Accurate. Authentic. Legitimate. Genuine. The words were still scrolling through my mind, like my subconscious was trying to tell me something I was missing. True. Factual. Trustworthy. Morally right. Like Jack’s compass, true north.

But it wasn’t like Napoleon had anything to do with the Saxons’ compass. He was a Dauphin relative. I’d tried the word north earlier, anyway, even though it wasn’t in French, just in case. I rubbed my eyes hard. It did seem like Napoleon liked the physical in his riddles at least as much as he liked wordplay. We’d had to actually go to the gargoyle at the top of Notre-Dame to discover where he was looking. And that was where we found the diary Mr. Emerson had hidden inside the sarcophagus at the Louvre.

Suddenly, the fog cleared.

Look where he looks. That was what the clue had said. And on the first bracelet: Where he looks, it will be found. When it is found, my twin and I will reveal all.

I sat up straight. Oh my God. That was it. This was what had been at the tip of my tongue for days. We’d been ignoring the “where he looks” clue that kept popping up because we’d already found the diary by using it, but Mr. Emerson had hidden the diary.

Not Napoleon.

We were such idiots.

Mr. Emerson had figured out Napoleon’s clues and knew where the gargoyle was looking, so he hid something in that line of sight—at the Louvre.

But the “where he looks, it will be found” clue Napoleon left on the bracelet couldn’t refer to the diary we found at the Louvre. It had to refer to something that was there in Napoleon’s time. At the Louvre or anywhere else the gargoyle might be pointing. Look where he looks. Where he looks, it will be found. Those who gave all hold the key.

The password was somewhere in the gargoyle’s sight line.

I was so keyed up, I had to type the louvre paris into my phone four times before I spelled it right. Finally, I brought up pictures. It was unlikely we were looking for something inside the museum. The collection would have changed too much since Napoleon’s time. Maybe there was a really obvious inscription on the building that unlocked the bracelets.

But I got frustrated quickly. Most of the photos weren’t good enough to tell if there was anything there at all. I called everyone into the kitchen.

“This isn’t a bad idea,” Jack said, his eyes lighting up. “Or maybe it’s not at the Louvre. That was the right direction for the gargoyle, but there are an infinite number of other buildings in the same direction.”

“‘Those who gave all,’” I thought out loud. “It sounds like someone who’s dead. Like a martyr. Or a saint? Could it be a church?”

“It could be any number of things,” Stellan said.

He pulled up a map of Paris on his phone, but it was too hard to continue the gargoyle’s sight line on the small screen.

“We need a map,” I said.

Elodie shook her head. “What we need is to go to Paris.”