All three of them stood, staring at the lonely leg bone.

“Now what?” Henry said.

“Well … I think … It has to be …” Anna looked around. But no paintings hung on the wall of bones. “It’s got to be here somewhere.” She got up on her tiptoes. “There’s some space between the bones and the ceiling.” She looked at Henry.

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’d be there.” He sure as heck wasn’t going up to find out.

Anna rummaged through her backpack for a flashlight and handed it to José. “Hold this.”

He pointed it at the top of the wall, and Anna jumped a few times. “I can’t see anything.”

“Did you look over here?” Henry started to turn but tripped over Anna’s backpack and stumbled toward the wall. Instinctively, he raised his arms to stop himself and ended up with a handful of cool, smooth skull.

“Gahhh!!” Henry jumped back. A leg bone jabbed him in the hip and made an awful crunching sound as it slid deeper into the wall. “Geez!” Henry shook his hands as if that would get the skull germs off. He turned back to look at the wall. “They’re all just … loose in there, not even cemented together or anything.”

José stepped up to the wall, squatted down, and hesitated. He handed Anna the flashlight, then poked at one of the leg bones.

“Dude, I can’t believe you’re touching that on purpose.” Henry shook his hands again. They still felt all clammy and dusty.

José didn’t answer. He poked at another bone near the half-a-crossbones. And then another one. Finally, he found the one that Henry had pushed deeper into the wall. He worked his fingers around the bulgy part on the end and wiggled, pulling little by little, until the bone slid out from the wall and into his hand.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Henry stared at the bone. It felt like alarms should be going off or ghosts should be swooping in to stick the thing back in the wall.

José turned to Anna. “Got that flashlight?”

She clicked it on, squatted down next to José, and shined the light into the space where the bone had been. Henry crouched down to look. Way back in the open space was a rolled-up something.

“That’s it. That has to be her.” Anna tried to shove her hand into the space, but her knuckles didn’t even make it through.

“We gotta make the hole bigger.” Henry looked at José. “Pull out another one.”

José tried, but the next bone was stuck fast. “You’re stronger. You try.”

“Hurry up,” Anna said. “People are coming!”

Way off in the distance, from one of those long stone-bone hallways, Henry heard voices. He took a deep breath, reached for the bone, and tried to move it. It didn’t budge.

“Give it some muscle, will you?” Anna looked ready to punch him.

“I’m trying!” Henry glared at her. “But it feels wrong to be yanking somebody’s bones around.”

“Just do it! I’m sure whoever that was will understand!”

Henry took a deep breath. He could hear the voices — quiet but getting closer for sure — and he knew the Serpentine Prince guys were somewhere back in that line. They had to get the painting while they had the chance. So Henry got a firm grip on the end of the bone and tugged. It made a tired scraping sound and moved a tiny bit.

“Pull harder!” Anna looked anxiously down the dark hallway.

Henry wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, braced his legs against the bottom of the wall, and grabbed the bone again. He pulled with all his weight and felt it start to move. Just a tiny, begrudging little bit — and then he went flying.

“Oww!”

“Shhhh!” Anna hissed, and plunged her arm into the dark space Henry had opened up. Slowly, she pulled a long, rolled-up tube of old canvas out of the crevice.

“Is that it?” José whispered. “We better make sure.”

With shaky hands, Anna unrolled the canvas. It cracked in complaint, but they saw what they needed to see — a dark wood color at the bottom of the weathered canvas, and then the yellowish-fleshy-beige of the Mona Lisa’s quiet hands.

“It’s her. It’s Brittany.” Anna stared.

“Roll it back up,” José whispered, and then motioned to Henry. “Pull up your pant leg and give me that cord. People are coming!”

“Oh.” Henry had forgotten that Brittany was leaving with him. He handed José the GamePrism cord and pulled up his pant leg.

José knelt down and looked up at Anna. “Hold this and I’ll tie, okay?”

She knelt down, too, and Henry felt the cold, scratchy length of the canvas against his calf and the inside of his knee. It tickled.

“Hold still!” José hissed.

“I can’t help it!”

José wound the cord around the rolled-up painting and Henry’s leg.

“You gotta make it tighter.” Henry could already feel it moving.

“The cord’s too slippery,” José said. “And there’s nowhere to put this plug.”

Henry tucked the plug into his sock and took a step. The painting slipped. “This isn’t gonna work.”

The voices down the hallway were getting louder.

“I wish we had rubber bands or — oh!” Anna reached back and yanked out the elastic thingy that was holding her ponytail. Her hair flopped onto her shoulders. “Henry, come back!”

He pulled up his pant leg and held up his foot so Anna could wiggle the ponytail thing over his sneaker. She pulled the elastic wide, over the painting, holding it tight to Henry’s calf. “There. That’s better.”

“Easy for you to say.” Henry pulled his pant leg down just as the two old ladies walked into the room. They looked at Henry, Anna, and José, then down at the two bones on the floor.

“Isn’t that awful?” Anna made her eyes all big. “Somebody must have vandalized it.”

The ladies looked suspiciously at Henry and José before they continued down the hallway. “You know, after a while,” one said, “all these bones start to look alike.”

Henry, Anna, and José followed them. Henry hoped they were close to the exit. He couldn’t really bend his knee, and Anna’s ponytail thing was cutting off his circulation.

Halfway down the hall, the old ladies stopped to read another informational plaque, and Anna motioned for Henry to pass them. “We need to get out of here,” she whispered. “Those Serpentine Prince guys might be in by now.”

The painting scratched the inside of Henry’s ankle every time he took a step, but finally, they made it down the last dark hallway to a spiral staircase.

Henry had to climb every new step with his left leg — the one with no Brittany strapped to it — and then drag his stiff painting leg up to meet it.

“You’re doing great, Henry.” José looked down at his brochure. “Only seventy-nine steps to go.”

Finally, they climbed up into the sunlight. One of the worker guys at the top looked down at Henry’s leg and said something in French.

“What?” Henry tried to look innocent.

The other guy spoke English. “He asks if you have been hurt.” He nodded at Henry’s leg. “You have somewhat of a limp.”

“Oh!” Henry’s whole body flooded with relief. “That’s nothing. I … uh … hurt my knee a while ago playing football, so I have a tough time with stairs.”

“Oh.” He said something in French to the other guy, who nodded and looked relieved that Henry’s injury wasn’t his problem. “Have a good day.”

They walked halfway down the block before Anna pulled the yellow napkin map from her pocket. “We have to turn left down here, and then right, and then we’ll be there!”

“Only we still don’t know where there is,” José said.

“We’ll find out soon!” Anna practically skipped down the sidewalk, and Henry hobbled as fast as he could to keep up. He hoped she was right — that they were about to meet up with their parents and Aunt Lucinda at some other safe house, and then Henry could give up the painting and get the feeling back in his leg, and everything would be great.

But he couldn’t help thinking about Shadow Rogue Assassin and the trap that Maldisio set in level ten. His fake treasure map led right into an alley full of swordsmen.

“Here we are!” Anna stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around. They were right where they were supposed to be, right where the star was on the map. Way down across the street, on the other block, there were some shops and what looked like a warehouse with wooden crates stacked outside. But the only building nearby was a tiny Laundromat.

“Maybe there’s a society meeting place in its basement,” José said, “like that pizza place in Boston.”

They went inside. It was empty except for a young couple smooching in the corner while their clothes went around and around in a dryer next to them.

Anna cleared her throat. “Excusez-moi,” she said, and the couple turned around. “Avez-vous … um … do you speak English?”

“Un petit peu.” The woman held up two fingers very close together in the international symbol for a very tiny bit.

“Have you seen our parents? Or, like, anybody?”

The woman shook her head.

“Is there another room here? Like downstairs?”

“C’est tout,” the man said, gesturing around the room. “Au revoir!” He waved and turned back to the lady.

“Either they’re really good at being undercover,” Henry said as they headed back outside, “or that map is totally bogus.”

“But it’s your aunt’s handwriting,” Anna argued. “And it says we’re in the right place. Right here!” She pointed down, and Henry noticed a round metal circle under her feet.

“Let me see that map.” He took the napkin and stared at the star. “This arrow isn’t only pointing south. It’s pointing down.” He pointed to the manhole cover leading to the other Paris … the one where Hem said it was so easy to disappear.

“Ohmygosh!” Anna jumped off the circle as if it might suddenly open up and suck her down who knows where. She knelt and poked at the edge. “It’s all sealed.”

“We need a crowbar,” Henry said, “like Hem had yesterday!”

“Oh, like we’re going to happen to have one of those?” Anna made a face. “There’s no way our parents would send us down there. And like Hem said, it’s all damp — no place for a painting. That arrow must mean something else.”

“I agree. I can’t imagine them directing us to enter an off-limits tunnel.” José looked around. “Especially knowing we’d be unlikely to have the right tools to gain access to …” He trailed off and squinted at the garbage can by the Laundromat. Then he walked over to it. “Never mind what I said.” He reached behind the can and pulled out a crowbar.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” Anna said.

“Not really.” Henry took the crowbar from José and stepped up to the manhole cover. “It makes sense they’d leave it for us. We need it to follow their map.” It was all making sense now. Maybe he was just happy to be aboveground again, but Henry finally felt like this might all work out. They’d find the grown-ups, deliver the painting, and then they could go home! He had that great end-of-game feeling he always got when his avatar was running toward the finish line in Treasure Quest. “Let’s go!”

José looked down at the circle of rusty metal. “But it’s damp down there….”

“They must have found a dry tunnel or something. How else do you explain this?” Henry held up the crow bar. “Besides, the arrow was pointing down. We have to go.” He pulled up his pant leg, tugged off the ponytail holder, unwound the cord, and handed it to Anna, along with the painting. “Put this in your backpack now, okay? And you guys keep an eye out for people.” He tried to remember how Hem had positioned the crowbar to get the other cover off.

Thankfully, the street was deserted, and the smoochy couple in the Laundromat was happy to be left alone, so nobody noticed Henry grunting and pushing and prying and sweating. Not even when the manhole cover finally came loose and Henry dropped it, clanging on the sidewalk.

Anna took out her flashlight and pointed it into the hole. Henry peeked down, and his end-of-game feeling faltered a little. There were metal rungs set in the wall, but you couldn’t quite call it a ladder. It looked wet down there. Slimy, too.

“Well …” Henry took a deep breath and looked up at Anna and José. If the Catacombs had been level twenty-four, this was twenty-five. “Who wants to go first?”