Pseudonymous bosch SECRET 02 if youre reading this, its t ate (v5 0)

Copyright © 2008 by Pseudonymous Bosch Illustrations copyright © 2008 by Gilbert Ford All rights reserved Except as permitted under the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher (And you thought getting out of P.E was hard!) Little, Brown and Company Hachette Book Group 237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com First eBook Edition: October 2008 The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author Similarity to persons in a state of half-life, however, is another story The Little, Brown and Company name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc ISBN: 978-0-316-04103-4 Contents Forword Preface Chapter 33 Chapter 32 Chapter 31 Chapter 30 Chapter 29 Chapter 28 Chapter 27 Chapter 26 Chapter 25 Chapter 24 Chapter 23 Chapter 22 Chapter 21 Chapter 20 Chapter 19 Chapter 18 Chapter 17 Chapter 16 Chapter 15 Chapter 14 Chapter 13 Chapter 12 Chapter 11 Chapter 10 Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Appendix FOR ENIELEDAM, SACUL, AND ILLIL WITH SPECIAL THANKS TO XWP AHSATAN FOR LETTING ME STEAL HER SOCK-MONSTER AUTHOR’S NOTE: PLEASE READ THE CONTRACT ON THE FOLLOWING PAGE VERY CAREFULLY IF YOU REFUSE TO SIGN, I’ M AFRAID YOU MUST CLOSE THIS BOOK IMMEDIATELY P.B The flashlight pierced the darkness The flashlight slashed through the darkness The flashlight beam sliced through the darkness like a sword The flashlight beam darted — yes! — across the dark hall, illuminating a wondrous collection of antique curiosities: Finely illustrated tarot cards of wizened kings and laughing fools glistening Chinese lacquer boxes concealing spring traps and secret compartments intricately carved cups of wood and ivory designed for making coins and marbles and even fingers disappear shining silver rings that a knowing hand could link and unlink as if they were made of air A museum of magic The circle of light lingered on a luminous crystal ball, as if waiting for some swirling image to appear on the surface Then it stopped, hesitating on a large bronze lantern — once home, perhaps, to a powerful genie Finally, the flashlight beam found its way to a glass display case sitting alone in the middle of the room “Ha! At last!” said a woman with a voice like ice The man behind the flashlight snickered “Who was it that said the best place to hide something was in plain sight? What an idiot.” His accent was odd, ominous “Just it!” hissed the woman Grasping the heavy flashlight tight in his gloved hand, the man brought it down like an ax Glass shattered in a cascade, revealing a milky white orb — a giant pearl? — sitting on a bed of black velvet Ignoring the sharp, glittering shards, the woman reached with a delicately thin hand — in a delicately thin white glove — and pulled out the orb About the size of an ostrich egg, it was translucent and seemed almost to glow from within The surface had a honeycomb sort of texture comprised of many holes of varying sizes A thin band of silver circled the orb, dividing it into two equal hemispheres The woman pushed aside her white-blonde hair and held the mysterious object to her perfectly shaped ear As she turned it over, it whispered like an open bottle in the wind “I can almost hear him,” she gloated “That horrid monster!” “You’re so sure he’s alive? It’s been four, five hundred years ” “A creature like that — so impossible to make — is all the more impossible to kill,” she replied, still listening to the ball in her hand A small red bloodstain now marked her white glove where one of the glass shards had cut through; she didn’t seem to notice “But now he can escape us no longer The Secret will be mine!” The flashlight beam fell “I mean ours, darling.” Beneath the shattered display a small brass plaque gleamed The Sound Prism, origin unknown, it read — AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAARRGH! * ACTUALLY, IT WAS NOT A GALLEON, BUT RATHER A NINETEENTH-CENTURY SCHOONER — A SIMILAR BUT SLEEKER VESSEL BUT I THINK THE WORD GALLEON HAS A MORE ROMANTIC AND ADVENTUROUS RING TO IT, DON’T YOU? (back to text) * I BELIEVE MS MAUVAIS WAS REFERRING TO THE TIME CASS PRETENDED TO BE A SKELTON SISTER IN ORDER TO GAIN ENTRANCE TO HER SPA A RATHER MEAN JOKE, IF YOU ASK ME (back to text) * IT DOESN’T SURPRISE ME THAT MS MAUVAIS’S CHEF WOULD WANT TO MAKE SHARK FIN SOUP; IT IS A SOUP FOR THE HEARTLESS IN ORDER TO MAKE IT, A FIN IS RIPPED OFF A LIVE SHARK — THEN THE SHARK IS THROWN BACK INTO THE WATER UNABLE TO SWIM, THE SHARK DROWNS — OR BECOMES PREY FOR OTHER FISH (back to text) * READERS OF MY PREVIOUS LITERARY EFFORT MAY REMEMBER A YOUNG CHINESE GIRL MENTIONED IN PIETRO’S NOTEBOOK A VIOLIN PRODIGY, SHE WAS KIDNAPPED BY MS MAUVAIS AFTER A CONCERT YES, LILY WEI IS THE VERY SAME GIRL, NOW GROWN UP AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, HER YEARS WITH THE MIDNIGHT SUN WERE HARROWING, AND HER ESCAPE EXHILARATING — BUT THAT, I’M AFRAID, IS A STORY FOR ANOTHER TIME (back to text) * IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ONOMATOPOEIC MEANS, WELL — DING-DONG-CLICK-CLACK-BUZZ-QUACK! — LOOK IT UP (back to text) * I WILL LET YOU, DEAR READER, DECIDE WHETHER CASS DID RIGHT IN LETTING MAX-ERNEST DO ALL THE WORK, OR WHETHER — JUST POSSIBLY — SHE WAS HIDING BEHIND HER ENVIRONMENTAL SENSITIVITIES TO AVOID A TASK SHE DIDN’T WANT TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE (back to text) * JUST TO BE CLEAR: A HALF-HOUSE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HALF-LIFE, WHICH IS A WAY OF MEASURING RADIATION RESIDUE AND OTHER THINGS THAT DISAPPEAR OVER TIME NOR IS A HALF-HOUSE ANYTHING LIKE A HALFWAY HOUSE, WHICH IS A PLACE PEOPLE STAY AFTER THEY’VE BEEN IN JAIL TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE, NEITHER OF MAX-ERNEST’S PARENTS WERE EVER CRIMINALS AS FOR MAX-ERNEST HIMSELF, I CAN’T ANSWER FOR HIS FUTURE ACTIONS, BUT SO FAR, HIS RECORD IS CLEAN! (back to text) * PERSONALLY, I THINK THE PROBLEM WAS THAT HE WAS USING A BULKY BANDANNA INSTEAD OF A PROPER MAGICIAN’S SCARF IF YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE YOUR OWN MAGIC CONE, YOU CAN FIND INSTRUCTIONS IN THE APPENDIX AND PLEASE TRY IT WITH A “SILK,” AS MAGICIANS CALL THEIR SCARVES, NOT A BANDANNA (back to text) * IF THE TIME PERIOD NOTED BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY IS CORRECT, THEN THE MONARCH MENTIONED HERE WOULD BE HENRY VIII OF EN-GLAND — A KING FAMOUS FOR, AMONG OTHER THINGS, HAVING SIX WIVES, TWO OF WHOM HE BEHEADED (back to text) * GRANDPA WAYNE HAD AN OLD PICKUP TRUCK THAT WAS HIS PRIDE AND JOY BUT THAT WAS ALWAYS IN A STATE OF HALF-REPAINTED SEMI-DISREPAIR CASS’S MOTHER, WHO CONSIDERED THE TRUCK AN “ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN,” STRICTLY FORBADE CASS FROM RIDING IN THE FLATBED IN THE BACK — WHICH, ACCORDING TO CASS’S MOTHER, WAS NOT ONLY DANGEROUS BUT ILLEGAL I HATE TO GIVE CASS AWAY, BUT THINK ABOUT IT — IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HARD TO FIT THREE KIDS IN FRONT WITH TWO ADULTS, EVEN ON A BENCH SEAT (back to text) *I WILL EXPLAIN THIS PHENOMENON IN THE APPENDIX FOR THE SCIENTIFICALLY CURIOUS (OR FOR ANYONE WHO HAS FINISHED THE BOOK AND DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO THINK ABOUT) text) (back to * MEANWHILE? DID I REALLY JUST WRITE MEANWHILE? MEANWHILE IS TO WRITING WHAT UM IS TO SPEAKING A SPACE-FILLER A SIGN THAT SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY OR HOW TO SAY IT MEANWHILE BELONGS WITH PHRASES LIKE ON THE OTHER HAND — PHRASES THAT A GOOD WRITER SHOULD NEVER USE ON THE OTHER HAND, THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MEANWHILE THAT I RATHER LIKE — ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S FOLLOWED BY AN ELLIPSIS, LIKE THIS: MEANWHILE CAN YOU HEAR THAT SENSE OF MENACE? THAT SENSE OF, UH-OH, JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO GO BACK IN THE WATER (back to text) * IT INVOLVED SHUFFLING VERY SLOPPILY, ONLY TO REVEAL THE CARDS NEATLY ARRANGED AT THE END NORMALLY, A FUN TRICK (PERHAPS I’LL TEACH IT TO YOU SOMEDAY.) BUT TO BE HONEST, IT FELL A LITTLE FLAT THIS TIME (back to text) * AS FAR AS I KNOW, MAX-ERNEST NEVER ACTUALLY HAD AGORAPHOBIA (WHICH IS USUALLY DEFINED AS A FEAR OF CROWDS AND OPEN SPACES) BUT OVER THE YEARS MAX-ERNEST HAD BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH SO MANY CONDITIONS THAT HIS PARENTS WERE IN THE HABIT OF ASSUMING HE HAD EACH AND EVERY CONDITION THERE WAS (back to text) * I KNOW — YOU’RE FRUSTRATED ALL THOSE NOBLE TERCES MEMBERS MAY WAX PHILOSOPHICAL, BUT YOU WERE HOPING TO LEARN SOMETHING MORE ABOUT THE SECRET IF IT’S ANY CONSOLATION, THINK ABOUT IT THIS WAY: WOULD YOU RATHER KNOW THE SECRET OR SAVE THE WORLD? IN A SENSE, THAT WAS THE CHOICE OUR THREE FRIENDS FACED — AND THE HOMUNCULUS HIMSELF FACED — WHEN THEY DECIDED TO BURY LORD PHARAOH’S COFFIN OF COURSE, I MYSELF MIGHT HAVE CHOSEN THE SECRET BUT THAT IS WHY I’M A WRITER AND NOT A HERO (back to text) ... persons in a state of half-life, however, is another story The Little, Brown and Company name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc ISBN: 97 8-0 -3 1 6-0 410 3-4 Contents Forword Preface... creature from her dreams It was green and purple and troll-like with a big, sock-heel nose, bulging bottle-cap eyes, and floppy ears made from tennis-shoe tongues Cass liked the ears especially — ears... whether in an underground bunker or an outer-space escape pod Thus fresh fruit was prohibited, but Fruit Roll-Ups were permissible Sandwiches were out, but cup-o-noodles was OK Trail mix was the most