Divide and Conquer Page 14

  Riq continued with his speech. “All that remain are the formalities, and I think that both parties can agree to assign such duties to those trusted men among their ranks, right?”

  If the king was unhappy with the idea, he didn’t show it. Once Rollo gave his assent the king followed suit.

  With the flourish of someone who’d obviously spent a lot of time on a stage learning how to woo a crowd, Riq turned to Rollo. “May I have the great honor of representing you for such an honorable act?”

  Rollo frowned and shrugged. Riq turned back to the king. “And will you accept my substitution on this fine Viking chieftain’s behalf?”

  The king looked toward his men, clearly lost as to what was going on. Sera had to press her hands to her mouth to keep from giggling. Even though it was clear to her that Riq was overdoing this, the crowd was eating it up.

  Eventually the king waved his hand ambiguously. If he’d been expecting Riq to kneel and lower his head to the ground, he was wrong. Riq stepped toward him and took the king’s muddy boot firmly in his hand. He then raised it to his mouth without bending over and, with loud exaggeration, kissed it.

  Clearly the king was not flexible enough to have his leg lifted so high, and he tumbled backward and off the dais.

  Riq turned and beamed. “The king’s foot has been kissed and Rollo’s fealty given.”

  The crowd gasped. There was silence. And then someone snorted. Somewhere else there was a stifled giggle, a cough, and before long the entire crowd was roaring with laughter.

  The king’s attendants helped him to his feet, and Sera saw a flurry of emotions cross his face — bewilderment and frustration at first, but he softened at seeing the amusement of the crowd. The king smiled, apparently deciding that he needed to look like he was in on the joke.

  Sera was so caught up in the moment that she wasn’t prepared for the hand that clamped on her shoulder and the voice shouting, “Hey, you!”

  Sera jumped and screamed, the sound lost in the noise from the crowd. The SQ agent shifted his hand from her squirming shoulder to a long shank of her fake hair. “You’re not getting away again,” he threatened.

  She grinned, stepping sideways and out from under the horsehair wig. “That’s what you think!”

  Without a second thought, she ducked under the chain blocking the aisle and raced toward Dak, grabbing him and pulling him to where Riq stood on the stage, surrounded by a band of cheerful Vikings.

  “The SQ is onto us,” she yelled to him over the noise of the crowd. “We have to get out of here!”

  Rollo must have seen the urgency on her face and known what it meant, because once the two of them had climbed the stairs and joined Riq, he and his men closed rank around them, facing outward with their weapons drawn.

  “Yo, Riq,” Dak said, holding out his fist for the older boy to bump it. “That was pretty awesome what you did with the king!”

  Riq grinned, obviously pleased by the compliment, and returned the gesture.

  “My time-traveling friends, you’re leaving so soon?” Rollo asked. Beside him, Vígi whined, her forehead furrowed.

  Dak scratched at her ears. “I’m afraid so,” he told the new Duke of Normandy. “Though this time I think we’ll leave this lady at home.”

  Rollo clamped his hand on Dak’s shoulder. “You’re a strong warrior, smart and true. Thank you for the gift you’ve given me. I will keep the SQ — whether Frank or Viking — out of Normandy for all time. And I promise to turn away from pillaging and do well by my station as duke. Mostly.”

  Dak’s face blazed bright red at the compliment, but Sera knew he was loving every minute of it. She pulled the Infinity Ring out and started double-checking that everything was set correctly. The last thing she wanted to do was let a last-minute miscalculation send them zooming too far ahead in the future or drop them into the middle of another war zone.

  Beside her, someone cleared his throat and she looked up to find Bill. “So that’s it, then?”

  Sera hesitated and then nodded.

  He cleared his throat. “I ran out of time, back in Paris, before I could give you this. I’d meant to, then, and I’ve held on to it . . . just in case.”

  He pulled a length of fine chain over his head and held it out to her. A gold charm dangled from the end and she reached out to cup it. It was a tiny infinity symbol, delicate and smoothly polished. “My ancestors were goldsmiths and they passed down the skills.”

  Sera felt her throat tighten. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I wanted to thank you, actually,” he said.

  That took Sera by surprise. “For what?”

  “For being brave,” he explained. “I’d have never done anything big in my life, taken any risks, if I hadn’t learned that from you.”

  Sera sputtered, “I’m not really that brave and I hate risks.”

  In response, Bill smiled. “Maybe you don’t see it yet, but I do.”

  Just then Riq stepped forward and linked his arm with hers. “Our work here is done,” Riq announced. “On to 1814!”

  “One War of 1812, coming up!” Dak placed his hand on her shoulder after kneeling to allow Vígi to give him one last slobbery kiss.

  Sera took a final look around her and smiled at Bill as she pushed the button to send them swirling through time. The Infinity Ring began to vibrate, the scene around her blurring. Her body felt small and impossibly big at the same time. “One more thing,” Dak whispered just as everything began to shatter apart. “I saw my parents. They were here and then they warped out in front of my eyes. But not before they left me this.”

  The last thing Sera saw as medieval France disappeared was Dak holding out a large iron key.

  Turn the page for your Hystorian’s Guide to the War of 1812.

  The United States is under attack. Join the fight for freedom now in the action-packed Infinity Ring game. This is your strategy guide for staying alive.

  Unlock the full game at:

  infinityring.com

  YOU must make sure that the SQ never lays hands on the First Lady!

  Washington, DC, is under attack. In 1814, the British army burned the city to the ground. It was a very dark day for the newly formed United States. Worst of all, during the invasion, First Lady Dolley Madison refused to leave the President’s House, and a secret squad of SQ Redcoats kidnapped her. They brought her to London and held her hostage. As a result, the U.S. had to surrender. It was a humiliating defeat, and one that gave the SQ a permanent hold on the American government.

  Get Dolley Madison safely out of the city!

  — Arin

  Enemy troops want to kidnap the First Lady! Play as Dak, Sera, and Riq as they race to save her — and the entire United States.

  Log on now to join the fight for freedom.

  Fix the past. Save the future.

  infinityring.com

  A civil war is brewing in the United States, and the SQ wants to fan the flames by taking over the Underground Railroad. In a nation divided, how can Dak, Sera, and Riq tell friend from foe?

  Includes an all-new, top secret Hystorian’s Guide — which unlocks the next episode of the Infinity Ring game.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek!

  infinityring.com

  Below is a sneak peek from Infinity Ring Book 3: The Trap Door by Lisa McMann.

  THE FLOOR moved up a few inches, and then a few inches more. “Run!” Dak whispered. He quickly took his own advice, and it didn’t take Sera or Riq any time at all to follow him out the door. They ran wildly for a minute or two, Sera hobbling through the sticks and mud on one bare foot, until they were a good distance away and hidden in a copse of evergreens.

  “Why are we running?” Riq asked Dak between breaths.

  “Dude, the floor moved. There was something down there!”

  “Yeah, well, all
we had to do was stand on it if we didn’t want the person to come out.”

  “How do you know it was a person?” Dak asked.

  “Right,” Sera said. “It could have been a monster.” She smirked.

  “Hey, you never know. The way our luck has gone, it could have been Sasquatch,” Riq said.

  Dak shook his head and sighed, annoyed. “You obviously know nothing about Sasquatch. He wasn’t sighted anywhere around here in 1850. Strictly northwest in the early years — he didn’t even have a name back then.”

  “Anywaaay,” Sera prompted. “This is serious — what if they heard us? Riq, you totally said we were time travelers!”

  Riq opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he closed it again. “I did?” he asked weakly.

  “Riq!” Dak said. “You blew it.”

  “Oh, please. I did not,” Riq scoffed. He glanced over his shoulder nervously. “But if either of you has an idea of where to go next, I’m all ears.”

  Dak began muttering. “Eighteen-fifty. Maryland. A bowl something ist.” He scratched his head, and then mumbled, “There was a lantern by that shed. . . .”

  After a second, he looked up. A sopping brown oak leaf flew through the wind and stuck to his cheek. “Duh,” he said. “Abolitionist. Come on, before we get struck by lightning.” He started walking, pulling the leaf from his cheek. Riq followed him.

  Sera hesitated. “Guys,” she called. “I don’t understand. Where are we going? We didn’t solve the whole clue.” She ducked as a branch came flying through the wind at her.

  “Because the answer is obvious. We’re supposed to join the abolitionists,” Dak said. “Seems likely that our Hystorian would be against slavery, right? So we need to find one to figure out how to help them.” He was getting cranky, slogging through the wet underbrush.

  Sera followed along behind the boys, limping. “So where do we find an abolitionist in a hurricane?” she asked.

  Dak frowned. “Technically, with a temperature this low, it’s not a —”

  “Well, der,” Sera said, “I know that. It’s a nor’easter, but I didn’t feel like explaining —”

  Riq looked up to the sky as if pleading for help, shook his head, and started trudging toward the nearest house.

  Sera and Dak looked at each other and then turned to follow Riq.

  “We look out of place, don’t forget,” Sera said, catching up to the older boy. “People might get suspicious.”

  He looked down at his outfit. “I’m quite aware. But we can’t do anything in the way of Cataclysm prevention if we have to amputate your foot.”

  “Aw,” Sera said. “You care about my foot.” She smiled.

  Riq’s face was stern. “I care about the Hystorian quest.”

  That was enough to silence everyone for the remainder of the walk.

  The first house they came to was dark. The curtains were drawn, and there was nothing in the windows or on the porch. Dak shook his head. “This one doesn’t seem right.” They continued to the next one, which also didn’t look right to Dak.

  “What are you looking for?” Riq asked.

  “I’ll let you know when I find it,” Dak said.

  Sera just bent her head into the wind and trudged after them.

  Several minutes later, they approached the third house, the wind and rain slapping their faces raw.

  Noticing a lit lantern in the window, Dak cautiously climbed the first porch step. “This might be it. They used lanterns as a signal.” He glanced out over the cornfield, identified the shed in the distance, and wondered if the field and that shed belonged to this homeowner. If so, the trap door made a bit more sense.

  Riq stopped short of the steps and frowned. Not that there’s anything unusual about Riq frowning, thought Dak.

  Sera looked at the older boy. “Do you think it’s safe?” she asked.

  But Riq didn’t respond. Instead he groaned, pitched forward, grabbed the porch railing, and closed his eyes.

  Sera reached out and held his arm. It took Dak a moment to figure out what was happening — Riq was having a Remnant.

  “Is it a bad one?” Sera whispered.

  There was no time to answer.

  The door opened a crack, and then a bit more, and a woman in a black, warm-looking woolen dress and a bonnet on her head peered out. “Come in,” she said, and then she hesitated, taking in their strange appearances. But after a moment she smiled and repeated herself, more urgently this time. “Ooh, interesting. Come in, come in.” She waved them toward her as if to hurry them, and they didn’t hesitate.

  Inside, a fire crackled in the fireplace. Riq, Sera, and Dak stood in the entryway, shivering and dripping all over the floor, but the woman didn’t seem to mind. She handed them each a towel so they could dry off.

  “Well now,” she said, looking at Sera. “Your clothes are mighty unusual.”

  Sera looked her in the eye. “We were at a party at the, um . . .”

  “Plantation up the road,” Dak continued. “It was a post-Revolutionary theme. On the way home, one of our horses, uh” — he glanced downward and saw Sera’s bare foot — “lost a shoe, and we’ve walked quite a long way in the storm, looking for a place to stay the night.”

  Sera looked like she wanted to kick Dak.

  Riq said nothing.

  The woman smiled broadly. “There’s no need to invent stories here. I’m Hester Beeson and I’m a Friend. I imagine you were looking for me.” She looked at Dak and Sera when she spoke, but tilted her head toward Riq.

  Dak lifted his shoulders just slightly in a shrug, and then nodded his head once.

  “Right,” Dak said. “Wow, so you’re a . . .” He hesitated on purpose.

  “Oh yes, I’m on your side,” she said with a grin. “It’s a joy to be of service to you.” Dak’s face lit up. Hystorian? Bingo!

  Mrs. Beeson wasted no time. “Well, come along, then. We’ve got a safe room here — you just never know who might be about on a night like this. . . .” She led them through the house.

  Dak flashed Riq a puzzled look, but Riq stared straight ahead, stone-faced.

  “Can I,” she said, turning back toward them with her hands outstretched, “take anything for you? Put it in the safe?”

  Sera raised an eyebrow. “N-no, thank you. We prefer to hold on to everything.”

  “All right, then.” The woman didn’t seem to notice Riq’s odd expression, but Dak did. And he didn’t know quite what to make of it.

  The woman pulled aside a plain wooden chair and a rug to reveal a square door in the floor. She turned the inset lock and pulled it open, and then stood aside and pointed proudly at the opening. “Like magic,” she said with a grin. “You two and your slave will be comfortable down here.”

  Dak and Sera stared at each other, jaws dropped. Then Dak looked at Riq, who was bristling.

  “Mrs. Beeson,” Sera began, her cheeks blazing, “Riq is not our —”

  A swift kick to her shin shut her up just in time.

  “I’m glad you made it safely.” Mrs. Beeson began to hum as the three climbed down a ladder into a small, cool cellar, lit by lanterns. “You’ll find dry clothes to change into, and some water and soap for those cuts on your foot, miss. I’ll bring some food down in a bit.”

  “Okay . . . thank you,” Sera said, but her voice was unsure. She shot questioning glances at Dak and Riq, and they returned them. Sera leaned toward them and whispered, “She’s a weird one. Do you really think she’s the local Hystorian?”

  Dak nodded. But something sure seemed off.

  “Excuse me,” he called up the ladder. “You know who Aristotle is, right?”

  “No, dear,” Mrs. Beeson answered. “I’ve never met anyone by that name.”

  A moment later the door o
verhead closed.

  And then the lock clicked.

  They heard the chair scraping the floor above to cover it.

  The three incredibly smart, self-proclaimed geniuses had just willingly gotten themselves locked in a drafty cellar. All three turned to one another as Dak said, “Wait. What just happened?”

  Carrie Ryan is the New York Times bestselling author of the Forest of Hands and Teeth trilogy as well as the editor of the anthology Foretold: 14 Stories of Prophecy and Prediction. A former litigator, she now writes full time from her home in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she lives with her writer-lawyer husband, two fat cats, and one rather large rescue mutt. Learn more at her website, www.carrieryan.com.

  Copyright © 2012 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, INFINITY RING, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-47395-8

  Cover illustration by Sammy Yuen

  Cover design by Sammy Yuen and Keirsten Geise

  First edition, November 2012

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