The Blackthorn Key

“It doesn’t say ‘Hugh.’ It says ‘Hugh’s.’ Hugh’s fourth.”


“Hugh’s fourth what?” Tom said. “And what lions? The ones in the king’s zoo? In the Tower?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe it’s on the second line.”

↓M08→

end.swords

“I remember this,” Tom said. “It’s the same code as the gunpowder recipe. But aren’t there supposed to be numbers?”

“There are.” I held the page out. “Smell it.”

Tom looked puzzled. “Is that a joke?”

“I’m serious.”

Suspicious, he leaned over and sniffed the paper. “Is that . . . ?” He sat up. “Lemons. It smells like lemons.”

“Before Master Benedict sent me out of the shop,” I said, “he asked me to bring him the lemon juice. I didn’t understand why, since lemon juice is the treatment for scurvy, which none of our customers had. Then, when I came back, he’d tucked the ledger under the jar on the shelf. It wasn’t until I saw the message that I realized what he was doing. He wrote the numbers in lemon juice. He’s hiding codes inside codes.”

“Why would he do that?” Tom said.

“Because whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone but me to see it.”

“How do we see it?”

“Fire,” I said. “The heat will cook the lemon juice. We need a candle or something.”

Tom used the still-smoldering coals in the baking ovens to light a wax taper. I asked him to hold it steady. “If the paper gets burnt . . .”

He gripped the wax so tightly, I thought he was going to squash it. I had to steady my own hands as I brought the paper close, hovering above the flame. Slowly, I dragged it across. I smelled the tang of burning citrus. Like magic, dark brown marks appeared on the page.

↓M08→ 05142020222207201601080420210115?end.swords For a moment, we just looked at it. Then I wrote out the key to the code.

A

20

B

21

C

22

D

23

E

01

F

02

G

03

H

04



I

05

K

06

L

07

M

08

N

09

O

10

P

11

Q

12



R

13

S

14

T

15

V

16

X

17

Y

18

Z

19



We translated the message. We sat back in our chairs.

“What does that mean?” Tom said.





CHAPTER


13


I STARED AT IT. “I . . . I Don’t know.”

JSYYAALYUFMIYZFT

Tom scratched his head. “Is it Latin?”

“It can’t be,” I said. “There’s no letter J in Latin. No U, either.”

“Maybe this is another code, like you said. Maybe this one’s really, really secret.”

Another code made sense. “But how do I decipher it? Where’s the key?”

“Well . . . maybe those symbols mean something. At the beginning.”

?Δ

“Is that a cross?” he said.

I peered at it. “I think it’s a sword.”

“A sword? Oh!” Tom pointed to the end of the second line. “There. ‘End swords.’ There’s another sword.”

A sword. A triangle. Another sword.

Hugh’s fourth. Lions and gates. And a jumble of unreadable letters. That was the message.

I didn’t understand any of it.

Master Benedict had taught me backward writing the very first summer I’d joined him. He knew I’d figured out the number code from the gunpowder recipe. And he’d pointedly stuck the lemon juice in my face. He obviously expected me to decipher this message. But now I didn’t know what to do.

I slumped in my chair. Tom put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. Master Benedict believed in you.”

I felt like throwing up.

? ? ?

I helped Tom finish scrubbing the back step before his father returned. Tom kept up a chatter, but I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about what he’d said before.

When the Guild Council threw me out of my home, I’d wanted to run to Hugh right away. The last line in Master Benedict’s message had stopped me.