Secret Breakers: The Power of Three by H. L. Dennis Page A

polite.
    ‘Let’s just see where the light falls at two o’clock if we line the map up with its edge against the wall,’ offered Brodie, pushing up her sleeves to reveal both her watches. ‘At least with this clue we aren’t late.’
    The hands on her Greenwich Mean Time watch revealed they had five minutes.
    That was when the bell began to sound.
    ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ spluttered Hunter.
    ‘We can’t go now!’ said Tusia. ‘It’s nearly two.’
    Brodie was frantic. ‘But we have to.’
    Hunter grabbed the rope. ‘I’ll do it. You two sort the map!’ He raced from the mansion.
    Tusia and Brodie struggled with the tapestry. Brodie could feel her heart beating in her throat.
    Minutes later Hunter threw the door back open.
    ‘Well?’ the girls yelled at him.
    ‘Down to three,’ he panted. ‘Look.’ The lifeline rope looked forlorn and nearly empty, three red ribbons flapping near the end.
    ‘But why?’ squealed Tusia. ‘This must be right. The map and the light. I don’t understand.’
    Brodie stared down at the map while Hunter doubled over and tried to catch his breath. It was two o’clock. What had they done wrong?
    When Hunter spoke his words came in gasps. ‘The pattern from that corpse flower. It’s settled. It doesn’t look good.’
    The three of them looked down. The pattern cast by the flower was right in the middle of the lake.
    ‘That’s why we lost the lives,’ snapped back Tusia. ‘I told you it was important where we put the map. You can’t just put it anywhere.’
    Hunter’s face suggested he’d thought of another unshared and impolite location.
    ‘It’s the wrong way round,’ yelled Tusia, scanning through the clue again. She kicked her shoes from the corner of the tapestry and dragged the edges as if she were trying to train a badly behaved puppy on the end of a very short lead. ‘Help me move it, then. Before it’s too late. The clue says “ line the lower stitches straight with the fire ”. It must mean we’ve got to get the bottom edge lined up with the grate, not the wall. The clue says so.’
    Brodie and Hunter grabbed a corner each and pulled the tapestry round into position. Then they stood again. And the pattern stilled.
    And the light from the coloured glass of the corpse flower settled now on the hand-sewn location of Hut 11.
    Hunter straightened up. The coded rope hung down from his hand. They had three lives left.

    ‘We can’t do this,’ mumbled Tandi, a pile of six red ribbons on the table in front of her. ‘They’re doing their best.’
    ‘But they have to be better,’ said Smithies. ‘It’s what we agreed.’ His words were catching in his throat.
    ‘But we’ll lose them all,’ moaned Tandi. ‘It’ll all have been for nothing.’
    Smithies had been pacing by the window. He stopped. ‘We agreed we’d find the best. The very best. Only those who are up to the task can stay. Working together, Tandi. That’s always been the key.’
    ‘Three of them. Three lives left. It could all be over,’ she mumbled.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘And that’s what you want?’
    Something like anger flashed in his face. ‘I want those who can cope with all there is to know,’ Smithies said quietly. ‘I want those who won’t be scared when they know what we’re really up against. And I want a team.’
    ‘And if we lose all three?’
    Smithies rested his hand on the pile of ribbons. He didn’t say any more.

    Hut 11 was small and dark. Brodie was sure she could see Ingham looking in at the window. She felt a prickle of fear.
    There was a table in the centre but it was hardly fit for a banquet. Brodie looked closely. She saw graffiti had been etched into the soft wood with blades of some sort. The three of them circled the table slowly. Brodie let her fingers trace along the carved initials. ‘Who do you think they were?’ she said at last, letting her fingers slow across each shape and groove. ‘Black Chamber members from the past. Real