TWENTY-TWO

Present Day

Sterling, Massachusetts

    Val let out a whistle. “The first entry matches what she told us, but the next one-Flora and Mr. Morgan-wow.”

    I couldn’t wait to hear how the fairy tale ended. I held up the translation. “Time to show Madame Flora our copy. Maybe that’ll shock her into filling in the gaps.”

    We walked downstairs and knocked on Madame Flora’s door. When she opened it, I pushed past her and sat down on her couch without saying a word. Val sat next to me.

    The old lady stood in her bathrobe, her arms crossed. After a long moment of silence, she cleared her throat and asked, “Are we playing charades?”

    “Good idea,” I said. I held up three fingers.

    “Three words,” Val said.

    I nodded and held up a single finger.

    “First word,” Madame Flora said.

    I nodded and pointed at her.

    “Flora,” Val said.

    I nodded and held up two fingers.

    “Second word,” Madame Flora said.

    I pointed at her again.

    “Drabarni,” Val said.

    I nodded and held up three fingers.

    “Let’s cut this short,” Val said. “Third word is 1946. As in your journal from 1946, found in Hermann Goering’s soul line collection.”

    Madame Flora sucked in a big gulp of air. She dropped her hands to her sides. “Archibald snuck you a copy, didn’t he?”

    I touched my nose. “Bingo. And it’s a good thing, too, since you burned the original.”

    “How do you know that?”

    I smiled. “We also thought we should get to the journal before Archie returned it. We watched you destroy it.”

    She closed her eyes. “And now you’ve figured out my code?” She opened them and stared at me.

    I nodded. “Mostly Romany in a Glagolitic script.”

    She seemed to collapse into a chair across from the couch. “How much of it did you understand?” She bit her lip.

    “We’ve decoded half of it,” I said. “Right now we have a wounded brave knight and a captain in love with a confused princess.”

    Madame Flora sighed. “Scott, you mustn’t tell Archibald you can read it.”

    “Why not?” I asked.

    “You will cause irreparable damage for all of us.” Madame Flora sat forward on her seat, her hands gripping the ends of her bathrobe. “You mustn’t tell him.”

    I looked at Val. “What do you think?”

    “I think she owes us the rest of the story before we can agree to that,” Val said.

    “Me too.” I pointed at Madame Flora. “Translate your fairy tale into fact, and we’ll reserve judgment until you’re done.”

    Madame Flora’s gaze swung from Val to me. She nodded, and said, “Once you hear me out, I’m sure you’ll understand.”