I RAN PANTING, then skidded to a stop.

The Virals slammed into me from behind.

“Stop!” I ordered. “We can’t just run blindly!”

“Gun gun gun!” Shelton yelped.

“Why do people always try to shoot us?” Hi whimpered. “We have the worst freaking luck!”

“Quiet!” Ben alone sounded calm. “Kill the lights. We have an advantage in the dark.”

The beams cut off, followed by the lantern. We crouched in silence, breathing hard, listening for sounds of pursuit.

“Wait here.” Ben disappeared down the passage, then hurried back. “Someone’s in the cavern.”

“Could you tell who?” I asked.

I sensed Ben’s head shake. “Too dark. The person’s not using a light.”

“Keep moving,” I whispered. “Everyone still flaring?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s hustle. Hi, you’re in front with me; you’ve got the best eyes. One flashlight only.”

“Awesome.”

“Shelton, hang back and listen for signs of someone following. Ben, stick close to Shelton. If someone catches up, you know what to do.”

“No problem.”

We moved as quickly as possible in the tomblike dark, senses probing for the slightest whiff of danger. My pulse raced. Sweat coated my skin.

Please, no more traps!

Twenty yards. Thirty. Fifty.

With each step, the tension mounted. Water murmured in the creek at my side, kicking my nerves into even higher gear. I begged various deities for the passage to lead us to safety.

“Wall dead ahead,” Hi whispered.

The murmur became a rush of falling water as the passage hair-pinned left and narrowed to a crack.

We shifted to single file and scraped through, one by one.

The darkness on the other side was denser, the air colder. A strong breeze stroked my damp skin.

“Lights,” I ordered.

Shelton powered the lantern.

“Whoa!” Knees shaking, I shrank backward until my back struck solid rock.

We were on a five-foot-wide stone ledge overhanging a deep, black chasm. The tunnel creek was now a waterfall, cascading to an unseen bottom. The shelf stretched forward ten yards before ending at the cavern wall.

Across the abyss jutted another outcrop similar to the one on which we stood. From it, a passage led into the wall behind. The gap between the ledges was at least twenty feet. Infinite.

Dead end. Trapped. There was no way to cross.

“How do we get over there?” Shelton whined.

“Jump?” Ben suggested without enthusiasm.

Hi’s head wagged emphatically. “No chance I make that, not even flaring! Try again!”

“Then I’ll toss you,” Ben growled. “We can’t stay here!”

“Everyone calm down,” I said. “Look around. What do you see?”

Flashlight beams searched the darkness. I examined the far ledge, but could see no way to get there.

“Up,” Hi squeaked. “Giant stone platform, dead overhead.”

My eyes shot skyward.

Hi wasn’t kidding.

Fifteen feet above us, a slab of rock dangled on rusty iron chains. One end overhung us directly. The other hung above the opposite ledge.

“Why’s that monster up there?” Shelton groaned. “How do we reach it?”

“Impossible.” Ben was eyeing the wall at our back. “This cliff face slopes outward. No chance without professional equipment.”

“Then we bring the rock thingy down to us,” Hi said.

Synapses fired in my brain.

Bridge. Chasm. Bridge.

“The treasure map!” I shouted. “The second verse!”

My fingers tore at my backpack.

I grabbed the parchment, unrolled it, and hit the words with a flashlight. The Virals huddled close as I read the first two lines aloud:

Down, down from Lady Peregrine’s roost,

Begin thy winding to the dark chamber’s sluice.

“The first line is done with,” I said. “And we’ve certainly been winding, but what is ‘the dark chamber’s sluice’?”

“Skip to the bottom,” Hi urged.

I did.

Spin Savior’s Loop in chasm’s open niche,

Choose thy faithful servant to release correct bridge.

A tingle traveled my spine. “This riddle has to contain the answer!”

“But it makes no sense,” Hi said.

“Correct bridge.” Ben frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“If this really is giving us directions,” I said, “we’ve got to identify ‘Savior’s Loop’ and locate the ‘chasm’s open niche.’”

For a moment no one spoke.

Then Shelton gasped.

“Could it be that? That hole?”

Shelton’s trembling finger pointed at a moss-covered alcove cut into the rock wall at our backs. Bread-box-sized, the tiny cubby was barely visible.

I scraped away the moss with my fingernails and peered inside. The nook contained a single object—a flat, circular stone the size of a small pizza. Seven nodules formed a T on its face. The center was notched. The object was clearly the work of human hands.

“Shelton’s right!” I said. “This must be the niche!”

“Now we need ‘Savior’s Loop.’” Hi said. “But what could that be?”

I worked the phrase in my mind.

Spin Savior’s Loop. Spin the loop. Savior’s Loop.

“Anne Bonny was Christian,” I said. “Jesus would be her ‘Savior,’ right?”

“So maybe we spin Jesus’s loop?” Shelton asked. “Like a circle? Spin Jesus in a circle?”

Click.

“Say that again.”

“What? Spin Jesus in a circle? How would we do that?”

“What represents Jesus?” I squealed. “A cross! And look!”

I pointed inside the niche.

“The bumps form a cross!” Hi exclaimed. “Spin that sucker!”

“Do it!” Shelton was right with us.

I reached in and tried to rotate the stone clockwise. Nothing. I tried counter-clockwise. No go.

“Let me.” Ben strained, muscles bulging. No movement in either direction. “It’s too wide. I can’t get a proper grip.”

“We’re missing something,” Shelton pounded his forehead.

A new synapse fired in my brain. “Bonny capitalized ‘Savior’s Loop.’ Like a proper name.”

“So we need a real object?” Hi scanned the rock wall. “I don’t see anything.”

The answer came in a flash. “I’ve got it!”

Riffling through my backpack, I pulled out the object I’d found on poor Jonathan Brincefield. A circular stone disk. Seven holes.

The gaps formed a T. A sort of cross.

Savior’s Loop.

“This is it! The holes should match the bumps!”

I fitted the disk over the carved stone and pressed firmly.

Chunk.

The holes and bumps aligned perfectly, and the wedge on the disk fit smoothly into the notch in the stone.

I rotated the pattern clockwise. The stone circle turned easily.

In the darkness, something rumbled.

Crash!

A chunk of wall tumbled free, tipped forward, and dropped off the edge. Seconds later we heard it strike far below.

A new niche had been revealed in the wall behind our ledge. Inside were seven dusty levers.

“What now?” Hi sounded nearly spent. “Another fricking choice?”

I nodded grimly.

“Oh no.” Ben was flat on his belly, peering down into the void.

“What?” Hi asked.

Ben hesitated.

“What is ‘oh no’ down there?” Hi insisted.

“I know what the poem means about releasing the correct bridge.”

“Yes?” My mouth went dry.

“We’re standing on the incorrect one.”