The Prophecy

69

During the long drive to Küsendorf, Megan had pondered everything that had happened over the past seventy-two hours. Prior to Sunday night, she had never heard of Payne and Jones, had never been to Europe, and knew very little about Nostradamus. Now the ex-MANIACs were risking their lives to save hers, she had been smuggled to the Ulster Archives in the Swiss Alps, and she had found out she might be a blood relative of the famous prophet.

Other than that, it had been an uneventful three days.

After unpacking her suitcase and showering, Megan changed into a clean pair of jeans and a sweater. She didn’t know how long she would be sequestered at the Archives, but as Ulster had promised back in Geneva, her stay wouldn’t be uncomfortable — not with a gourmet kitchen, a private suite, and one of the best research libraries in the world. While she was there, she fully intended to do her part, whether that was running errands, cooking meals, or researching her family tree. She didn’t have the academic background to translate ancient texts or carbon date the parchments, but she wasn’t the type to sit around all day. Having lost her parents at such an early age, Megan had developed an extraordinary work ethic not only to impress the various foster families she had lived with, but to learn as much as possible before she was forced to live on her own.

With an hour to kill before dinner, she got permission from Ulster to examine the puzzle box in one of the research labs. After lining the table with a sterile sheet of plastic laminate, he placed the box on a soft cloth to protect it. Then he gave her a pair of latex gloves to reduce the fingerprints and oil residue on the wood.

‘Tell me, my dear, why the sudden urgency? As I mentioned earlier, there will be plenty of time to inspect the box after dessert.’

‘Call me crazy,’ she said, ‘but a theory popped into my head while I was in the shower. And I didn’t want to wait half the night before I tested it.’

‘What type of theory?’

‘While turning the knobs for hot and cold water, I started thinking about the dials on the puzzle box. There are four dials in total, right?’

Ulster nodded. ‘And each of them have three numbers.’

‘Exactly! But so far we’ve only discovered two combinations. The date that Nostradamus died, and the date that Louis Keller was supposed to open the box.’

‘The second of July 1566, and the first of December this year.’

She smiled, glad that he was following. ‘That means eight of the twelve numbers have been used in the two combinations.’

He did the maths in his head. ‘Two numbers on four dials for a total of eight.’

‘And unless I’m mistaken, none of the numbers was used twice. That leaves one number on each of the four dials that has not been used.’

‘Good heavens! I think you’re right.’

‘Considering the events of the past few days, I thought it was worth checking out.’

Ulster grinned and patted his stomach. ‘As far as I’m concerned, dinner can wait!’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

‘So,’ he said excitedly, ‘do you know the combination? I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I can’t remember the four unused digits.’

She smiled sheepishly. ‘Neither could I.’

‘No worries, my dear, we’ll simply use the process of elimination to figure it out.’

Megan nodded and placed her gloved hand on the first corner. She twisted it slowly, careful not to break it. ‘The choices are three, seven, and twelve.’

‘Seven represents July, the month that Nostradamus died. And twelve represents December.’

She twisted the knob to three. ‘That leaves March.’

‘Beware the ides of March,’ Ulster whispered.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Sorry, my dear, it’s a line from Shakespeare. Julius Caesar was told to “Beware the ides of March”. Later, he was killed on that date.’

‘What date is that?’

‘The ides of March — or Idus Martias in Latin — means the fifteenth of March.’

She ignored the Latin and focused on the second knob. ‘Sorry, no fifteen. Our choices are one, two, and twenty-five.’

‘Nostradamus died on the second, so the two has been used. And Louis opened the box on the first. That leaves twenty-five.’

Megan nodded and slowly turned the dial. As she did, the numbers clicked in place in her mind. ‘No way!’ she shrieked.

Ulster flinched in his seat. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘The date! I know what it means!’

‘Really?’

‘It’s March 25, 1982. I’m sure of it!’

He sat there, confused, trying to figure out its significance, wondering if it was historically significant in any way. ‘I don’t get it, my dear. What happened on that date?’

She twisted the knobs into place. ‘It was the day I was born.’

As if on cue, the puzzle box emitted a loud pop. A split-second later, a three-inch square was ejected from the middle of the front panel. It fell onto the soft cloth directly in front of Megan. ‘Holy shit!’

Ulster’s eyes widened while he leaned in for a closer look.

‘There’s something in there,’ she insisted. Her voice was calm, but her heart was nearly thumping out of her chest. ‘I think it’s a folded parchment.’

‘Don’t touch it! Please don’t touch it!’

‘Why not?’

He signalled for her to wait while he lumbered towards the cabinet on the far side of the room. He threw open the doors and retrieved a long pair of tweezers. ‘Please use these. They’ll do far less damage than your fingers.’

She smiled, thrilled he would let her do the procedure. When he had yelled for her to stop, she was afraid he was going to push her aside and take over.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘For what?’

‘For letting me do this.’

Ulster patted her on the shoulder and handed her the tweezers. ‘Considering the date of the combination, I believe you were destined to do this.’

She shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’

With a gentle touch, she slid the tool inside the puzzle box and clamped it onto one of the folded edges of the parchment. Then, ever so carefully, she pulled it towards her until it was free from the secret compartment. ‘Now what?’ she asked.

‘Place it on the table,’ Ulster whispered.

Her hand trembled slightly as she turned to her left and followed his instructions. As soon as she released the parchment, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘How was that?’

‘Perfect. Like a surgeon.’

‘I don’t know about that, but thanks. So, what do we do now?’

‘Now’s the fun part. We get to open it.’

‘With what?’

‘Your hands will suffice.’

‘No tweezers?’

‘No, my dear. Those were simply to remove the parchment from its cramped quarters. Now that it’s free, I believe your gloved fingers will pose less of a threat than a sharp tool.’

‘You’re the expert,’ she said as she inched her chair to the left.

Using both hands, she unfolded the document once, then again, and then a third time. Finally, she could see words, and dates, and a bunch of straight lines. She unfolded it a fourth time, and then a fifth. Every time she did, it grew larger before her eyes. What had once fitted inside a tiny space had grown to the size of a roadmap.

‘Lay it flat, so we can read it,’ he urged.

With trembling hands, Megan laid it on the table, curious to find out what had been hidden for so long, anxious to find out why she had been selected to open the box.

The answer left both of them stunned.