The Explorer's Code Page 2

  Charlie grabbed Anna’s hand. “Come on.”

  He tugged her toward the stairs. She pulled free but kept walking with him. “What was that for?” she asked.

  “I thought you were going to say something stupid,” Charlie said.

  Anna scowled. “I know when to keep my mouth shut, Charlie.”

  She walked ahead of him, counting doors, and just like that, the distance was back between them.

  People are puzzles, Charlie thought. Once you found the odd thing out, you could solve them. But it seemed like no matter how hard he tried to puzzle out what had gone wrong between him and Anna, there was another layer of codes to uncover.

  * * *

  “It’s magnificent,” Emily’s mother said as they pulled up beside a dented sedan. Her eyes never left Idlewood Manor.

  “Exquisite,” Emily’s father said. He was using his eyes to park the car, but as historians, both he and Em- ily’s mother had spent hours poring over old photos of the manor, reading deeply into the writings left behind about it. He could appreciate it from memory.

  Emily Shaughnessy had looked at all the old photos, too, but now she gazed up at the old house, tingling with as much excitement as if she were about to meet a movie star. Idlewood, built in 1885, turned into a hotel a mere fifty-odd years later. It hadn’t lasted long as a hotel: The Great Depression closed a lot of small inns, and Idlewood was no exception. It lay vacant for years before being bought about thirty years ago by a private owner who closed everything but the main floor and rented out the ballroom for gala events, like weddings and murder mystery parties. No one had lived in Idlewood for decades—until now, for one weekend only.

  The history radiated out of the house and the land around it, making Emily’s twelve years feel like a blink of an eye. She hugged her book (wrapped in a brown paper bag and marked MATH) and smiled. “Hello, Idlewood.”

  Her dad stopped the car but made no move to leave it. Neither did Emily’s mother, nor Emily herself. They sat silently for a moment, and then Emily’s parents turned to her. “Are you ready?” her dad said. “Do you know what to do?”

  “Dad, we’ve been over it a million times. It’s not that hard.”

  “We know,” her mom said. “But there was that last time with the mansion in Northern California. After that, we can’t assume … we just have to be careful.”

  Emily looked out the window. A couple of kids, a redheaded girl and a chunky boy with glasses, were entering the building. “I get it,” she said. “I can stay quiet.”

  That time in California still haunted her parents. They’d come home pale and silent, and for weeks Emily had buzzed at dinner about a book she was reading about Nefertiti and forgotten pharaohs, anything to distract her historian parents from what had happened. She’d do what she could to prevent a repeat.

  Her mom nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve got it. But you know, I could help you out. No one’s going to think twice about a kid exploring the house—”

  “There’s no need for that,” her mom said. “This is our work, honey. We’re glad you’re so willing to help, but your job is to enjoy the weekend and not draw attention to us.”

  “Okay,” Emily said, her heart deflating. But then she forced a smile on her face and let it trick her insides into expanding again. “It’ll be fun,” she said. She grinned. “I can’t wait to see Idlewood!”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” her father said, smiling. “Now, let’s go see the house that Gardner built.”

  Emily carried her suitcase, plus her schoolbag, complete with her book—and a cheap yellow-and-pink Polaroid camera that she’d gotten for Christmas when she was six. She stopped outside the arched doors, falling far behind her parents, and snapped her first picture of the outside of Idlewood Manor. She tucked the picture away and closed her bag tightly before her parents could see the camera.

  They might have made her leave her phone behind (they were sneaking theirs in), and they might want her to sit back and enjoy the vacation, but Emily had other plans.

  Walking into the house, camera on her person, gave Emily a bit of a rush. On this one weekend, and after years of hearing her parents talk about their historical work, Emily was finally joining them in the field. Sure, they didn’t know she was, but maybe dreamcrushers like the tall man who approached them would keep the adults locked into intense schedules, and they’d have to invite Emily to join them on the job.

  Emily knew she could be helpful. But for now, she had to be quiet and stay hidden. Her parents greeted Mr. Llewellyn, the owner, but she stayed behind. She didn’t really want him looking at her, remembering her. Her long black hair shielded her face, and she hunched her shoulders, acting younger than she was.

  “And this is Emily,” her mom said. “Say hello, Emily.”

  “’Lo,” Emily mumbled, holding her bag closer.

  “Hmm,” her mom said. “She’s not usually this shy.”

  “Shy kids don’t bother me,” Mr. Llewellyn said. He turned to Emily. “I hope you don’t have any phones or cameras in that bag. We want to keep this retreat just that: a retreat from all modern inconveniences.”

  Well, of course. Cell phones would ruin everything for you, wouldn’t they? And what could cameras reveal that you want hidden? Though Emily really did like the idea of returning to an older time, if only for pretend. Until the day real time travel was invented, this was the closest thing.

  “No,” Emily said meekly. “Just my homework.”

  “Math,” her mother said.

  “Very good,” Mr. Llewellyn said. “There’s another math student staying here this weekend. Maybe you two could work together.” He turned back to Emily’s parents, his tone a little warmer. “It’s very nice to meet you. You’ll be in Suite Two. First door on the right. We have ten groups checked in, including you, and ten rooms. Your check-in materials are all in the packet I gave you. If you have any questions or if you’d like a tour, please see me. I’d be happy to help you in any way.”

  Help us? Help the house, maybe. Protect it from careless kids breaking priceless antiques. Mr. Llewellyn struck Emily as the kind of man who liked children fine, but only after they’d celebrated their eighteenth birthday.

  Emily’s parents thanked him, and they all went up to their room. As she stepped inside, Emily gasped at the beautiful walls with their painted landscape of Rome and the marble statues decorating the shelves and corners.

  “We have the Rome suite,” she breathed. She’d read that in the old days, the hotel had featured suites themed around different countries and cities, but she half thought Mr. Llewellyn would have ditched the theming. Was it politically correct to have one of the suites “China-themed” and another “India-themed”?

  Still, like her parents said, looking at history did mean looking at all of it, the good and bad, and understanding it in context, and—looking at the large mural of a busy Roman market—Emily was glad that the room, at least, was the same as it had always been, as decreed by Mrs. Gardner. The previous owner of the house, before dying in South Carolina, had left provisions in her will that the house never be changed from what it was, and it looked like her orders were still being carried out.

  It was one more way Idlewood was unique.

  “We just need a Colosseum and this would be complete,” her dad joked, sitting on a plush purple couch.

  Emily tied back her hair and looked around. “Why is there a statue of Athena in here? That’s Greek, not Roman.”

  “Probably a mistake,” her mother said. “Or perhaps the statue has a history we don’t know about, and this is actually Minerva, the Roman version of Athena. Though the style does look very Greek. Pity about the crack, though.” She touched the statue’s shoulder, where something must have broken or cut through the stone.

  “I wonder.” Emily pulled the Idlewood history page out of the packet, skimmed it, and laughed. “Very basic. Not very helpful in identifying our marble friend.” She sat on the bed. “Either way, I like it here.”

  “Emmy, your room is that way,” her dad said.

  “Maybe you can get to work on that math homework,” her mom said as Emily went to find her bedroom.

  She found her own bed tucked in a small room painted sky blue and marble white. It was rather pretty, but she wasn’t here to take in the sights. She set her bag on the bed and took out her book and camera.

  She opened the book, but instead of pages full of math problems, images of Idlewood filled each page. It was a somewhat more detailed history of the house, brand-new, self-published, from Jerry and Flora Shaughnessy, Emily’s parents. Her parents’ research was detailed and sound. But even the best historians’ work meant nothing if it didn’t impact the present world. What had happened in Northern California was proof of that.

  Emily pulled a folded packet of papers from the crease, smiled at it, and then returned it to the book. Her parents would freak if they knew she’d brought that with her! But it was necessary. It was important evidence about Idlewood’s past. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d brought the original. It was an expendable photocopy.

  She turned the page, hiding the papers, to a picture of the Gardner family, Elaine and Everett and their three kids. “Don’t worry,” Emily said to Elaine’s smiling face. “I won’t fail.”

  Grinning, she closed the book and scooped up the camera. With only three days to work, there was no time like the present. She would show her parents what she could do.

  2

  SUITE FIVE was more interesting than Anna had expected. She thought it would be some bland, beige space with weird watercolors that looked like the ocean. She was amazed and pleased to step into a beautifully decorated central room with lovely porcelain vases, interspersed with brass statues of dragons. The walls were decorated with ink paintings of mountain ranges that looked authentic, at least to Anna’s limited knowledge.

  A framed postcard, yellowed on the edges, read, “Greetings from Beijing.” The room was clearly themed to Chinese art and architecture, and there were books about China’s history, landscape, and culture on the shelf. Her parents and brother would like that.

  Anna smiled, feeling, at least vaguely, the fizz of exploration. This room was cool, and she wanted to see every part of it.

  “Can I have this bedroom?” Charlie called from down the hall.

  “Sure,” their mom called back. “We have three bedrooms, so you can each have your own.”

  Wow! Her own bedroom in a hotel? That was also cool.

  Anna walked to Charlie’s bedroom. It had similar colors as the main room, green and gold, though instead of the painted mountains, the walls were decorated with dragon-printed wallpaper. Whoever decorated this house must have really liked dragons. And on the wall over the bed’s headboard hung a naked sword.

  “Awesome!” Anna said, approaching the sword.

  “I know!” Charlie was beaming. “Isn’t this the greatest house you’ve ever seen?”

  Anna nodded, touching the cool metal of the sword. On a whim, she ran a finger along the edge.

  “Don’t!” Charlie pulled her arm away.

  Anna raised her finger. “Blunt,” she said. She’d guessed it as soon as she saw the blade wasn’t sheathed. Mr. Llewellyn wouldn’t want anyone cutting themselves by accident. But its bluntness made the sword less interesting. The fun was in the danger, right? Otherwise, it was just a metal stick.

  “I wonder what my bedroom is like,” Anna said.

  “Let’s go see it,” Charlie responded. He dumped his bags on his bed and hurried into the hall.

  Anna followed him to a bedroom across from the bathroom. What kind of weapon would be hanging in her room? Another sword? Or what if her room didn’t have weapons, but maybe something cooler? A huge statue of a dragon, like the ones in the entry hall, or maybe—

  A painting.

  Over the bed hung an intricate ink painting, with Chinese calligraphy along the edge. It was beautiful, and Anna admired the graceful lines of the painting (which was of some kind of tree), but still.

  Charlie got a sword.

  “What’s your room like, Anna?” her mom said, appearing behind her. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

  It was. It really was. Anna liked it, but why did Charlie get the sword? Just because he was a boy? He wouldn’t appreciate it like she would!

  “Do you think Charlie and I could switch rooms?” Anna asked.

  “Honey, what’s wrong with this one?” As Anna tried to put her thoughts into words, her mom said, “The walls are so interesting here. Don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” Along the walls, Anna’s room had sets of wood panels painted with bamboo forests hanging all around, in columns of three. In the shadows of one picture, Anna could see a dark shape of some creature lurking.

  A sinking feeling that had nothing to do with the room tugged at Anna’s chest. She knew it well—it was the loss of mystery. Now that she’d seen the room, the whole suite—okay, it was gorgeous, and Anna would love to stay here. But this was a question already answered, with nothing left to discover, and Anna wasn’t through discovering.

  Good thing there were plenty of other rooms to explore. Maybe they were all themed. Anna dropped her bags. “Can I go look around the house?”

  “Sure, but be careful and be respectful of the other guests—” her mom started, but Anna was already gone.

  She began on the first floor, skirting around the entry hall where stiff Mr. Llewellyn was greeting another guest, a golden-blond man with pinkish skin in a T-shirt and blazer, with a rolling suitcase absolutely covered with buttons and pins, the kind you buy as souvenirs. From the moment she’d met Mr. Llewellyn’s eyes, she recognized his type: He was just like all the other teachers and babysitters who wanted children to be decorative statues instead of human beings. Not exactly the best person to encounter on an adventure. So she slipped behind him as she went downstairs. The blond man raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t say anything.

  The first floor was the main living area and the common rooms of the house. The entry hall, with its darkly opulent look, was only the beginning. Anna found a dining room with blue walls and gold decorations and knew instantly that her mother would ooh over its elegance. It had a huge window that overlooked the grounds, and Anna spent some time admiring the expansive landscape before moving on. She’d have to spend some serious time outside, once the inside of Idlewood had been explored.

  Beyond the dining room lay a parlor with a completely different color scheme of rose and lavender, and beyond that was a library. Charlie was going to go missing one of these days, and they were going to find him holed up in there. He was welcome to it; Anna would find better places to be.

  In each of the rooms she looked into, Anna couldn’t help but admire the interesting little touches. A ballroom held a fireplace large enough to park a car in as well as a gallery of paintings. Another room had live tropical plants and trees growing out of the floor, and Anna swiped an orange before looking for the next room.

  This house is amazing! she thought, nibbling at a segment. Who has a house with an indoor greenhouse?

  The next room turned out to be the kitchen, and a sharp-nosed, iron-haired woman in a dusty apron spotted Anna and threw a dish towel at her. “Out! No children allowed!”

  That was fine. The kitchen was the last room on the first floor, but there was a whole second floor to explore.

  Anna snuck past Mr. Llewellyn again. This time, he was welcoming a stately Polynesian woman with a very thick, long dark braid shot through with gray who was wearing slacks and carrying a tote bag stuffed to the brim with books. As Anna passed, the woman shifted and a book fell out. It was titled Quantum Goldfish, Chocolate Dynasties, and Other Secrets. Anna couldn’t even begin to imagine what that book would be about!

  Upstairs, the first thing Anna did was walk the whole length of the hall. It was a long one; if each suite was like her family’s, then they took up a lot of space. She had to walk for a while to reach each new door.

  Ten doors, just as Mr. Llewellyn had said. Five on each side of the hall, odd numbers on one side, even on the other. Anna turned the corner to find a hall of sealed doors (she tried every one), which ended with a dusty bookcase littered with old, yellowed books and one cheap plastic plant. She turned around to explore the suites, since that seemed to be the most interesting thing up here.

  Her family’s suite was on the left, as seen from the staircase, so she started on the left side. The first suite’s door was open, and a white woman was bustling around.

  Anna knocked on the open door, and the woman looked up. “Sorry,” Anna said. “I was just wondering if I could see your room.”

  “Oh, yes,” the woman said. “Come in.” She was a soft-looking woman, unlike the cook, and her mousy brown hair was mixed with gray strands.

  Anna stepped into a frozen wonderland. The walls were white with silver snowflakes, and the sitting room furniture was in all shades of blue, from cool ice to deep midnight. The woman smiled at Anna as the girl gaped.

  “Mr. Llewellyn called this the Arctic Circle suite,” the woman said. “And you haven’t seen my favorite part.” She pointed up, and Anna followed her finger to the ceiling, which was painted with the northern lights.

  “Amazing.”

  “Isn’t it? Apparently all the suites in this house are themed like this. What’s yours? I’m Rosie, by the way.”

  “Anna. Ours is China.”

  “Anna. That’s a nice name. Is it short for anything?”

  Anna sighed. “Annabella. It’s a family name.” Her great-grandmother on her father’s side. Her parents were big on family names; Charlie’s was also plucked from the family tree.

  Rosie beckoned Anna to follow her. “While you’re here, you may as well get the tour. Just not that room.” She pointed at a closed door. “My husband is taking a nap. So, China. Sounds pretty.”