Tag cast the book a wary look. “What do you mean?”
“Any mishandling or attempt to force the book open would ignite it on fire, burning it all to ash. Such was the level of Saint-Germain’s fear that his knowledge might fall into the wrong hands.”
“And after opening it,” Sharyn said, “you’ve been attempting to decipher what was written.”
“Painstakingly so, especially as we had to take care with whomever we reached out to for help. We solved the First Adage, but it took until the science of cryptology had advanced enough to eke out its meaning.”
“Advancements made at Bletchley Park,” Duncan noted.
Sir Kelly nodded. “Since then, while we’ve made progress on the Second Adage, its secret still eludes us. The code is vastly different from the first, one so daunting that it might take until science advances again to solve it.”
“Maybe that was Saint-Germain’s intent,” Sharyn noted. “To only let his knowledge return to the world once humanity had matured enough to be ready for it.”
Sir Kelly stared silently at her, his gaze thoughtful, before finally offering a bow of his head. “Very astute of you, Ms. Karr. In fact, Saint-Germain had warned Countess d’Adhémar that his diary would only return to the world after a long span of time, when it would be most needed, during a time of great tribulation.”
Archie sighed. “That certainly describes our group’s sorry state.”
Sharyn remained focused on the book. “And what of the Third Adage, the last in the book? During our conversation with Monsieur Laurent, he believed that it might lead to the key to immortality.”
“Again, the opening line to the diary might simply be poetic hyperbole. But many in our group, after decoding snatches from various pages, do suspect the Third Adage will point to a location of Saint-Germain’s lost Elixir of Life.”
“But that’s not all,” Moira added.
Sir Kelly frowned at her, as if scolding her for mentioning this.
Sharyn had enough of such guardedness and pressed him. “Whatelseis supposedly hidden there?”
Moira crossed her arms and gave her father a hard look.
Sir Kelly closed his eyes and sagged a bit in resignation. “It may hold one last secret. A prophecy of sorts.”
“Of what?”
He opened his eyes. “Of Earth’s final destiny.”
Before anyone else could react, Hugh burst off his perch with a flare of black wings. A scream burst out, sounding like a clarion call. “Traitors! Traitors all!”
Moira turned to the bank of windows, now gone dark. While they had talked, the sun had set. Lampposts glowed across the Tower Green, now empty of tourists.
“Someone’s coming,” she warned.
21
5:18 p.m.
Duncan hurried with Moira to the window overlooking the park. Through the twilit gloaming, three men approached the front door. From their bright Beefeater uniforms, they all appeared to be Yeoman Warders. The trio led a fourth man, who carried a satchel over a shoulder and kept his face lowered.
“Is that the Frenchman?” Duncan asked Moira. “Monsieur Laurent?”
“Possibly. He must have caught an early train.”
The King’s Guard crossed from his sentinel box and confronted the group, lowering his rifle threateningly.
Moira stiffened. “Why is he... he knows all the Warders.”
A muffled cough and the guardsman’s head jerked back, followed by his body. He struck the front door with a clatter and the others closed in on him.
Hugh screamed the obvious. “Traitors!”
