Traitor's Chase Read Free Page A

amounts of silk ever make it to Paris.”
    Greg stopped walking and examined the scrap of silk more closely. “So whoever Milady met at the inn that night was no common messenger?”
    â€œExactly. Anyone wearing such fancy clothes would most likely be the emissary representing the king of a foreign nation.”
    Greg’s heart thumped in his chest. France was surrounded by countries that were always on the verge of invading: England, Spain, the duchies of Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire, which controlled Germany, Switzerland, and Belgium. If Dominic had dealings with any of them, it was reason for concern. “Which one?”
    â€œI don’t know yet.” Aramis took the scrap of silk back and carefully tucked it away. “I need to figure out where this silk was made. I’ll bet a month’s wages that, wherever it is, Dominic and Michel have fled there.”
    â€œBut we don’t know that for sure,” Greg said.
    â€œNo,” Aramis admitted. “Still, this is the best lead we have.”
    â€œHow long will it take to find out where the silk is from?”
    â€œA few days—if we’re lucky.”
    Greg silently cursed the backward age in which he was trapped. What would have taken five seconds to discover with a simple Wikipedia search could take forever to find out in the past. “There’s no way to do it any faster?” he asked. “With every day that goes by, Michel and Dominic are getting closer and closer to …”
    He caught himself at the last second, not wanting to mention the Devil’s Stone before the king’s messenger. Aramis recognized the worry in Greg’s eyes, though. “Allow us a moment?” he asked the messenger, then pulled Greg into a small alcove where they could speak in peace.
    â€œI know that finding the stone is of utmost importance to you,” Aramis whispered. “I’m doing everything I can to figure out where it is. Over the past two months, I’ve combed through every book, scroll, and parchment in Paris....”
    â€œAnd you haven’t found a single mention of it?” Greg asked. “There must be something somewhere. I mean, Michel had to learn about the stone somewhere, back when he was Dominic....”
    â€œWell,” Aramis said hesitantly, “I did find something a few days ago....”
    â€œAnd you didn’t tell me?” Greg couldn’t contain himself in his excitement.
    â€œIt was merely an oblique reference,” Aramis whispered, signaling Greg to keep his voice down. “It didn’t even mention the Devil’s Stone by name.”
    â€œWhat was it?”
    â€œI found it in a scroll in the archives at Notre Dame. It was a transcript of the travels of a monk who stayed there two hundred years ago.” Until Greg had met him, Aramis himself had been a cleric at Notre Dame, responsible for transcribing texts from one language to another. The cathedral had the largest library in the city. “He mentioned hearing about a magic stone with incredible powers that was last seen in the White City of Emperor Constantine.”
    â€œWhat’s the White City of Emperor Constantine?” Greg asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Aramis admitted. “And neither does anyone else I’ve talked to. There were several Emperor Constantines in the Roman era, but they all lived more than a thousand years ago....”
    Greg felt all the excitement drain from him.
    Aramis put a comforting hand on his arm. “Don’t despair,” he said. “We’ll find the stone. I promise you that.”
    Despite his reassuring tone, Greg still felt hollow inside. “We have to,” he said. “No offense, but I can’t stay in this time forever.”
    â€œI know,” Aramis told him. “I’m doing everything I can....”
    Before he could go on, the messenger coughed impatiently out in the hall. “Monsieur