Darrell stretched his legs out. "Is the pilot controlling the descent?"

"We can only hope!"

"Guys, Uncle Roald," Becca said, rousing herself. "Guess what?"

"Read it to them," Wade said.

They all listened spellbound as she read what she'd discovered.

"Vela is a small blue stone in the shape of a sail," Roald said in a breath. "Becca, this is amazing."

"It's one more clue," she said.

"A giant one."

Darrell slapped Wade's shoulder. "We are getting so close. From the whole giant world to one little island. The first relic is half a day and two more hops away. Unbelievable!"

After a brief stay in Dubai, the flight to Japan seemed a new kind of interminable. The flight from Japan to the islands was more of the same. Becca read and reread the Magellan encounter until she memorized it, struck by the different handwriting and wobbly lettering, wishing she had a sample of Copernicus's handwriting to compare it against.

Finally, Lily reached across her to lift the window shade. The row of seats turned golden in the light. It was an hour before dawn, but the sky was already brightening over the great blue Pacific. It was like flying into the very first days of the world. Back to the creation. The start of everything.

And there it was again.

Time.

"Less than an hour and we land," Wade said.

His eyes blinked into the orange sunlight.

She took a breath. All right, then. A new day.

Chapter Forty-Seven.

Because it was one of the first flights of the morning, the jet was able to taxi to the gate without delay. Twenty minutes after touchdown, they were in the terminal, while Dr. Kaplan made a quick call.

"We'll be picked up by one of my contacts at the University of Guam," he told them. "They have great researchers to help us determine where Vela might be hidden-"

"They're here," said Wade.

A black van was parked on the tarmac near a small private jet. Several men waited in front of it. They stiffened as if suddenly called to attention. The young woman from Berlin stepped out of the jet, sliding a slim duffel bag over her bare, toned arms to her shoulder. She was down the stairs in a moment, and the men gathered around her like players around a quarterback. She spoke, and they each nodded once. One of the men slid his right hand into his open jacket and patted the area under his left armpit.

"They're armed," said Darrell. "Dad-"

"I'm on it," Dr. Kaplan said, his phone out. After a minute of low talking, he pulled them close. "Our ride will meet us outside the cargo area. Here comes our escort through customs now. Let's move."

Becca turned to go with the others when she touched Wade's arm.

The pale man with the bruise on his head emerged from the jet with a small computer in his hands. He spoke to the woman, and she whirled her head around to the terminal. "Go!" she yelled, and the van took off, while the woman herself entered the terminal at a sprint.

"That's how they know," Becca said. "They've already unscrambled Carlo's phone."

"Come-on!" Wade pulled her away from the window and they ran for customs. They were whisked through in no time and pulled into a small beat-up Honda driven by his father's contact from the university. The kids crouched on the floor of the backseat, while Dr. Kaplan did the same in the front. They were able to squeak out of the airport parking lot without stopping. As their car slid past the van, Wade and Becca peeked out to see the young woman staring motionless through the terminal door. She was startlingly beautiful up close, but the expression in her eyes was not really human. As if she were a species of rare animal. A dangerous one.

The driver, a short middle-aged man with thin brown hair and sunglasses, jammed his car into top gear before turning completely sideways to Dr. Kaplan. "Your reason for coming here, to learn about Magellan's time on the island . . . I must say, it's rather common knowledge. Can you explain your research a little?"

Dr. Kaplan cleared his throat. "Actually, I . . . it's complicated."

"Mysterious!" he said. "Well, you're in luck. We've arranged for a hotel, but first, we're heading to Janet Thompson's bungalow. Her grandmother was, of course, Laura Thompson."

The kids shared a look. Of course? Lily mouthed.

"I saw that!" the driver said, turning around.

"A truck!" Darrell yelled.

The driver spun the wheel almost completely around while branches on the roadside snapped against the car.

"Maybe drive now and talk later?" Dr. Kaplan asked.

The little man laughed as he swerved back onto the road. "I've been driving on the island for thirty years without a real accident."

Darrell nudged Wade, whispering, "Define real-"

"I heard that!" the driver laughed. "I mean no fatalities."

He sputtered onto a broad road that skirted the southeastern shore of the island. On one side was the vista of the Pacific Ocean in the morning, thousands of miles of nothing but bright blue water. Looking straight east toward home, Becca could almost see the gentle arc of the horizon. To the south of the island stood a handful of low mountains.

"We're getting close," Becca said. "I can feel it."

"Me, too." Darrell nudged Wade. "It won't be long now, bro."

"Do you think it's just the one van?" Wade asked. "Or will they have more?"

"If we're as close as we think we are," his father said, "we have to believe they'll have more. If we need to get into the jungle, we'll have help, right?" he asked the driver.

"A retired Navy SEAL is the most knowledgeable guide to the island. If you need to go deep, he's your man."

Becca stared inland at the vast sea of beautiful tangled green that seemed as giant as the ocean itself. The seashore was sprinkled with villas and hotels, but the island's interior melted into a dense world of thick vegetation that looked as forbidding as it must have back in Magellan's time. As if the jungle would swallow right up anyone who entered. The sun bore down, and a heavy mist coiled from the interior like smoke.

The island must have been all jungle at one time.

She leaned over to Wade. "If Vela's hidden in the jungle, our only hope of finding it is to trace every inch of the story from Magellan down to the present."

"Before the Order does," he whispered.

The driver turned his head nearly around to the backseat. "Sounds like a scavenger hunt! But you should know that what you're seeing here is not the most dense jungle on the island. The real business is up north, beyond the air base. Ritidian, they call it-"

"Another truck!" cried Darrell.

Laughing, the driver plunged off the shoulder as the truck barreled past. "Ten minutes, and we're there!"

"If we make it," Lily whispered.

They did make it, finally, jerking to a stop in front of a winding driveway. Perched at the top was a modest pink bungalow with a wide, open porch across the front.

"Call me when you need a ride," the driver said.

"Or maybe we'll call a cab," Darrell whispered.

The man laughed. "Still no fatalities!"

As he motored away, a slender, middle-aged woman with red hair strode down the path from the house, waving. "The university called and told me to expect you. I'm Janet Thompson."

Dr. Kaplan greeted her and introduced the kids. "We're interested in whatever you-or your grandmother-might know about Magellan's stop on the island in 1521."

"I'm sorting through Grandma's papers right now," she said. "Come in."

They gathered in her open living room, a homey collection of wicker furniture and island art, where she listened as they explained their search, giving her as much information as possible, but bypassing the "relics" or "time machine" or "fall into the wrong hands" business.

"Something Magellan might have left here." Janet frowned, then spun around and went straight to the back room of the house. She was back in a few minutes with a pile of books and pamphlets.

"Antonio Pigafetta was an Italian writer, a member of Magellan's crew and his friend. He wrote an eyewitness history of Magellan's voyage from the moment they set sail from Spain. Chapter fifteen is where he describes the landing on Guam. He mentions the crew in several places, including Enrique, the captain's servant."

"We've read that Enrique may have brought Magellan's body here from the Philippines," Roald said.

She unrolled a map like the one in the Museo Copernicano, marking the stops on the voyage. "That's the legend. No grave has ever been found."

"If Enrique was a friend of Magellan's," Darrell said, "and Magellan died in an attack, I mean, wouldn't Enrique get his body out of there? I think he'd do everything he could to get it out of there. Wade, you'd get my body out of there if it was me, wouldn't you? Bro?"

Wade pretended to think about it. "I would, bro. But please don't ask me to do that."

Darrell grinned. "I probably won't. But it's good to know that you'd be there for me."

"Pigafetta's account is a bit sketchy," Janet said, "but it was always Grandma's belief that Magellan must have visited the Ritidian caves in the north. Let me get you my best island map."

She smiled and left the room, patting the head of a small wooden native sculpture of a warrior.

While everyone pored over the books on the wicker table, Wade knelt over the map of Magellan's voyage.

"Thanks to Becca's discovery, we know for sure that Magellan was the first Guardian. I'm thinking it's like this. Magellan carries Vela all the way from Spain, looking for places all along the voyage. I mean, he doesn't have any idea where he's going to land."

"Plus remember," said Becca, "Hans says that there had to be clues to the relic's location in case they needed to reassemble the astrolabe."

"Right," said Wade. "This is where Pigafetta comes in. Magellan tells him to write about each of these hiding places, because those descriptions may be the Guardians' only clue to where the relic is eventually hidden. So they sail on, Magellan finding hiding spots here and there, and they land in Guam. It might be a good hiding place, but maybe there's a better one coming up. So fine, he casts off to the next islands, the Philippines. Then, tragedy. The first Guardian is killed."

"And Enrique takes his body and Vela to the last safe place they found a hiding spot. Here in Guam," said Darrell. "It makes sense."

Lily raised her eyes from the text. "Enrique disappears from the history a few days after Magellan is killed. Which is perfect, right? Pigafetta has to assume his history might be read by the Teutonic Order. So what does he do to keep the Knights from catching on? He drops Enrique from the history. In a single stroke, both Magellan and Enrique vanish from the story. Vela is hidden safely on Guam!"

Roald was pacing and reading now. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, good. The clue to its exact location must be in this chapter."

"Except that half the chapter is Pigafetta talking about the velas Latinas that the island people had on their boats," Darrell said. "He even has a really bad picture of it-"

Roald studied the picture. He stood. "And that's it."

"Dad?" said Wade.

His father began to smile. "He doesn't tell the location. He shows it. Look at this drawing, page sixty-two of the paperback. It's labeled 'Isles des Larrons,' which is French for 'Island of Thieves.' This is what Pigafetta called the velas Latinas because the islanders stole from them.

"The island is lumpy and not the shape of Guam at all," Roald went on, "but that's not the point. The point is that he's drawn four rock formations, three in the south and central part of the island, and one in the north. They're not anywhere near geographically accurate, but they're not meant to be. He's giving the Guardians a clue to the relic's location. His mountains form a very distinct triangle, pointing directly north. It's the same shape as the lateen sail-vela Latina-and, as if that's not enough, the rigging of the boat depicted below the island is also a triangle, pointing to the same exact location-"

A loud gasp came from behind them. "You . . . ?"

Chapter Forty-Eight.

Lily nearly shrieked to see Janet Thompson standing in the doorway of the living room, trembling and pale as if she'd seen a ghost.

Roald stepped toward her. "Is everything okay?"

Janet stared at him. She was crying. "This is what she meant!"

Lily couldn't help herself. She went over to her. "What's the matter? Tell us . . ."

"Grandma told me there was something on the island. Something secret that I shouldn't touch, shouldn't lose, unless . . . unless . . . someone said a word . . . I heard you say it."

Roald tried to get her to sit. She wouldn't.

"There's the famous story of Shoichi Yokoi, a soldier who hid out in the Ritidian caves from the end of World War II until 1972. Twenty-eight years alone in the caves. Grandma met him once. She used the same word you did. She said Shoichi Yokoi was a . . . a guardian."

No one moved.

"Grandma told me that I should only open it if a 'guardian' approached me with a key. You said that word. Are you guardians? Do you have the key?"

Wade was shaking. "Dad?"

His father's eyes went back and forth between Janet and him, then he nodded. Wade removed the dagger from under his shirt. When she saw it, Janet put her hands to her face and her eyes filled with tears again.