Cipher

Cipher

By Alexandra Miskovich

Dedicated to my mom,

always there for me,

no matter how far away she is.

Maple Leaf Writing Project

Brattleboro, Vermont

Copyright 2014

Part One

Prologue

The fire started in the basement. It crept up the sides of the dilapidated farmhouse, the burning tongues of flame, quiet and sly as serpents, quickly withering away the wood. A father was awoken by the screams of his wife, who had seen the fire spread into the nursery and was holding their baby in her arms. Some say the fire killed all three, burned the entire family, demolished them and their sinless, loving lives. But some who have evidence say that the mother and her child escaped, seeking refuge with the most malicious, thieving gang in all of England. She never meant to stay with them as long as she did, no. She stayed only because of their threats, awful threats, ones that cannot even be written down. They kept her for her talents. The young woman was a coding genius. She could make and break near impossible ciphers. But after only a few cold, lonely months, she made a break for it. She brought her baby to the only safe place she could think of.

It was a frigid, wintry night. A young woman, stooped over with cold, stepped out of the shadows, carrying a small bundle wrapped in tattered rags. Eyes darting to and fro, she quickly scurried across the road. Mrs. Curmudgeon’s Home for Orphaned Girls was the only hope for her child. Though she could not bear to part with her, they had no use for a toddler. Her child would be taken away to somewhere unknown, with no one, no food, no water. She would die. The woman, Maria Montgomery, took the final steps, hesitated, then very gently set her swaddled baby down on the front stoop. She tied a note to the child’s wrist and wrapped a ragged coat around her. Maria bent down and kissed the tiny, delicate forehead and whispered softly,”Don’t forget me, Maxie. We’ll be together soon. I promise.” She walked slowly away, all the time crying quietly into her hands, her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. “Don’t forget… we’ll be… together,” she repeated. “Together…”

Two days later, as she was walking away from a library, cold hands reached out and grabbed her from a back alley. Everything went black.

Mrs.Curmudgeon was awakened at midnight by the sound of crying.

“Well, I’ll be. If it ain’t a child! I hate children! So loud and obnoxious. Glad I never was one…” Expecting to find a small troublemaker she could bellow at, the miserable matron got up, stumbled past the orphans in their small rooms, and unlocked the heavily bolted front door. Before her lay a small toddler, bawling and rubbing her eyes.

“Well! Well, well! Another orphan… Well, it is good for the publicity and all, but another? My place is soon going to be home to all the little homeless in England! I can’t stand it anymore!”

Suddenly, Mrs. Curmudgeon noticed a small note, connected, by a tattered string, to the bundle. She picked it up and read the unkempt script.

DEAR MRS. CURMUDGEON,

WITH A HEAVY HEART I LEAVE YOU MY LITTLE GIRL. HER NAME IS MAXIE. PLEASE TAKE GOOD CARE OF HER. I WILL TRY TO COME AND GET HER IF/WHEN I AM ABLE, BUT BE WARNED. IF ANYONE FINDS OUT THAT I WAS HERE, THEY WILL TORTURE YOU TO REVEAL MY WHEREABOUTS. BE CAREFUL.

MARIA

Mrs. Curmudgeon stared at the note, awe and fear darting across her face. Torture? What had this woman done? Who was after her? Among all these questions, one answer arose. Maxie would stay here. Protected. Because no one, as you know, wants to be tortured. Mrs. Curmudgeon couldn’t care less for the child, but herself, that was someone she cared about. Maxie would stay safe.

CHAPTER 1

The floorboard creaked under my footsteps, and I froze. The ninth board from the door was the loosest of all of the three hundred and twenty-seven boards in the house. How could I forget? I had lived there for so long, I wasn’t even sure how many years it had been. Well, long enough for me to count all of the floorboards. Fifty times. Mrs Curmudgeon’s Home for Orphaned Girls was not exactly “home sweet home” for me. Or for the fifty-six other girls living there. It was basically Alcatraz, but without the sea breezes or ocean view. So, I was running away. This was my seventeenth try.

Mrs. Curmudgeon was an unpleasant, cruel, obnoxious lady, with a certain dislike for children. Why she ran the orphanage was anyone’s guess. She governed with a firm hand and strict rules. Disobey her, and you scrubbed the bathroom clean with a toothbrush, or slept in the grimy, desolate basement for a week. If the orphanage was a jail - to which it had many similarities- then Mrs. C was the surly prison guard.

Another creak, this time from behind the closet door, told me I wasn’t alone. Out from the shadows stepped a terrifying, eerie, sinister- Sam. Sam!?!? Samantha Roberts, my scared-of-the-dark-and-creepy-night-things best friend, hiding in a dark closet. Either the all-powerful universe had completely changed Sam, or she had something important to tell me. “I’m coming with you,” she said.

CHAPTER 2

The trees were dappled by moonlight as Sam and I snuck out. Although I had run away before, the farthest I ever got was the next town. This time was different. Sam was coming, and I had no intention of going back to the orphanage.

“Maxie! Look at that!” I started to turn.

“Sam, be quiet! Sneaking out in the dead of night, reme-” I froze. Sam had one shaking finger pointed towards the wide, slow-flowing Asinqui River. Gradually coming into view was a great sailing ship, skull and crossbones raised. On the side was printed The Siren’s Prisoner in blood-red letters. In the illuminating moonlight I could see a man on the deck, facing towards the shore. His gaze fell on me and I felt a chill down my spine.

"Maxie!" Sam screamed from behind me. "Let's go!"

CHAPTER 3

Daybreak found us idling on the front step of the Redbridge Library, waiting for it to open. I knew that they kept an extensive collection of newspapers there. When the man on deck had looked at me, I had the strange feeling that he had recognized me. I didn’t know any ship’s captains. I wanted to know who that man was. Maybe the papers would reveal a clue about The Siren’s Prisoner.

CHAPTER 4

By noon, Sam and I had had no success in our search. Going back year by year from the present, 1932, we eventually discovered the newspapers from 1920, the earliest ones kept in the library.

“I think I found it!” Sam squealed. "Oh, wait, no, it's just a cat food advertisement.”

“Wait! Sam, I got it!” And I had. The article was printed in the Times, and was so worn from reading and rereading that I could barely make out the words:

If I was thinking of the correct Siren’s Prisoner, then I hadn’t seen the captain. Maybe it was this Lucifer Nëila character I’d seen. How did he know me?

CHAPTER 5

Sam and I, having no place to stay, decided to remain at the library until right before closing. We also delighted in sneaking treats from the “staff only” baked goods platter, which was deftly concealed behind the cardboard “Eat. Sleep. Read.” sign on the front desk. A librarian bustled by us as we were stuffing our faces with sweets, swerving and swaying behind the tall stack of novels she was carrying in one hand. Her other hand was supporting an equally gigantic pile of assorted keys. Keys! Keys, I thought, keys that could open a door. Possibly a door that led into, say, into a room where we could stay for the night. I explained my plan to the enthusiastic Sam.

“Yes!” she cried, her voice well above “standard library voice” level, as was proven by the stern look from the vulture-like librarian at the front desk.

PART TWO

CHAPTER 6

We had a goal, but no plan, so decided to observe our target, the tipsy librarian, before attacking. She didn't do anything out of the ordinary until someone asked her a question.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you happen to have anything on William Shakespeare?” asked a well dressed university student.

“Eh? William drinks beer? Well then, tell William that no beverages are allowed near the books,” replied the obviously hard-of-hearing librarian.

“No, no. William Shakespeare. Shakespeare.”

“William shakes his rear? That is highly inappropriate! Who is this William, anyway? Drinking alcohol, and shaking his posterior, and in a public place, too! I have half a mind to kick him out of here!”

The scholar walked away, muttering things like, no help and waste of time and try tomorrow. But he did not realize that, thanks to his unsuccessful conversation, we now knew that the librarian couldn’t hear well, and we could use that to our advantage.

Once we were inside the small, box-filled storage room that the stolen key led to, Sam and I sat down on the cold, dusty floor, exhausted. I breathed a heavy sigh and contemplated what to do next. Eventually, of course, the librarians would find out that two twelve-year-olds were hiding in their filing room. I realized that separating myself from Mrs. Curmudgeon was not the only reason I had left the orphanage. I had also left because I still believed that my mom had survived that fire ten years ago, the one I kept having nightmares about, and was waiting somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

CHAPTER 7

Early morning light peeked through the small, grimy window. I looked around. Sam wasn’t there! I sat up straight and rigid. Had she been found already? But my fears were silenced by the sounds of crashing metal, and screaming. I jumped up. “Sam!?” After rushing around through the boxes, I saw a fallen filing cabinet, an almost cartoonish cloud of dust rising from it.

“No! No, no, no! Sam? Are you there? Are you okay? Oh, please, please be okay…”

I heard a groan, and saw Sam lying on the ground, her right arm crushed under the weight of the toppled cabinet. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing.

CHAPTER 8

It seemed to me that Sam had passed out from the pain, which was not a normal thing. Mrs. Curmudgeon had beaten us many times, and we had been able to withstand it rather well. But this was seemingly the last straw for Sam, with all of the weight resting in one spot. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to get help, however risky it would be. Who could I trust? Obviously not the librarians, since we were hiding in their storage room. The only person I could think of was the Shakespeare student. Yes, I would try to find him. He was Sam’s only hope.

I raced along the corridor, my heart thumping in my chest. After opening the door to the main room, I saw the student, reading the dust jacket of Hamlet: Classroom edition. When I told him my predicament, he rushed to help. As we ran through the hallway, a pocket fingerprint duster fell to the ground.

“Is this yours?” I asked, walking over to him. He snatched it up and hastily returned it to his pocket. As he did so, I caught a glimpse of something shining beneath his jacket. It looked like the edge of a medal, or maybe a badge.

CHAPTER 9

Sam’s first words after she was “gently awoken” were, “Hey! Why am I all wet? Did you splash me, Maxie? Why is my arm under this thing? OW!” The student, Greg, helped me lift the cabinet off of Sam. I turned to help Sam up, and when I turned back, Greg was gone. I reassured Sam that he wouldn’t tell, but she had a more important thing to tell me.

“I found it in that filing cabinet, under ‘Mysteries.’ Apparently, the police use this room for storage, too. Anyway, I was looking for more information on the ship.” Her shaking hand gave me a sealed envelope, with Maxie Montgomery written on it in scrawling letters. “Open it!” she encouraged. I did, and to my amazement, I found this inside:

From your loving mother, Maria Montgomery, in the hope that you have inherited my ciphering ability.

Underneath this short note there was an incredibly elaborate-looking set of dashes and dots. I traced my fingers over them, wondering what they meant.

“Hey! What’s in it, Maxie?” Sam inquired, breaking the silence. I showed it to her. After we puzzled over it for quite some time, Sam had a revelation.

“Hey, isn’t that Morse code?” she exclaimed. I realized two things after this. One, she was right, and two, I knew Morse code! My mom had used it as our “secret language”, ever since I could talk. After another long silence, I was finished decoding.

My dearest Maxie,

When I left you at the orphanage when you were two, I had every intention of returning for you as soon as I could. I am on the run from an evil gang whose hideout is a ship called the Siren's Prisoner, usually anchored adjacent to Wonders Wood. I fear that they are catching up to me. Trying to be the mother I never had the chance to be, I am telling you where I might be, but implore you not to come after me yourself. Instead, go to the authorities with this note. I can only imagine what a wonderful girl you've grown up to be, and I hope that we can see each other again.

CHAPTER 10

Sprinting through Wonders Wood, Sam and I saw only trees. But when we reached the water’s edge, we did in fact see an ancient-looking ship at anchor. It was almost as still and daunting as an eagle, waiting to attack its unsuspecting prey; faint figures paced across the deck. In an incredible stroke of luck, we saw a rickety rowboat tied to a tree. We both took deep breaths- and rowed away towards the ship.

CHAPTER 11

Once we were on board, our luck ran out. Heavy footsteps resounded behind us.

“Well, well. Looks like the chick left the nest, boys! Is she looking for Mommy hen?”

Sam and I turned and saw a crowd of rough, tough looking men. The speaker, who seemed to be the leader, was the largest and had the meanest aura about him. “Ah! Introductions! I am Lucifer Nëila. This is my crew. You are Maxie Montgomery. Blah, blah, blah. Now, back to business. It looks like the chick’s brought over our boat for us. Why, thank you. Now come over here and bid your mother farewell. She’s going on a little trip. I’m sorry, but we have been a little apprehensive about the safety of our secret, since you saw us the first time. Yes, I would recognise that blonde hair anywhere! Same color as mumsy's, eh? You see, we work for the Germans, every one of us. We intercept and read secret military messages, of course with the help of Mommy hen!”

I hadn’t noticed that while the leader was talking down to me, a small group of men was leading a woman to the edge of the deck. She must have once been very beautiful, but now she looked weak. Her downcast eyes and limp figure told me that she was just so tired of fighting back.

“Oh, look! Just in time! There she is! Come on, let’s give her the proper send-off.” The leader instructed his men to bring the woman as close to the edge as they could, without her going overboard.

“Now, don’t you worry. Mommy hen is gonna be all right. I’m sure the government of Germany will be happy to take care of her, aren’t you, boys?” This taunt was followed by corrupt laughter, which made it obvious that “mommy hen” was not going to be all right.

CHAPTER 12

“CRASH!” A deafening crack sounded from the side of the boat. Everyone ran over to see what it was. “Come down the gangplank with your hands up!” shouted a familiar voice. I gaped down at the figure standing below. It was Greg, the scholar I’d met in the library! He was wearing a police uniform, complete with a shiny badge fastened to his shirt, and was standing on top of a police boat.

“Greg?” I shouted incredulously.

“That’s me!”

“But- how are you here?”

“I followed you from the library. And it’s not Greg while I’m on the job! Here, I’m Detective Valji!”

A few of his compatriots stormed onto the ship, using the gangplank and clamped handcuffs and leg irons on the villains.

“Now get your mother and your friend and get down here, fast!” instructed Greg, I mean Detective Valji. My mother, struggling against the binding ropes, finally broke free and ran towards me. She grabbed Sam and me and steered us toward the gangplank. A furious gang member shoved us and sent my mother flying to the back of the ship. Turbulence from the police boats speeding towards us had created gigantic waves. One swept over the side and took my mother with it back into the dark waters.

“No!” I screamed, and sprinted across the boat. I peered over the edge and saw only churning water. There was nothing for it. I was going to have to dive. I plunged into the cold river. There was barely any light under the surface, but I could see a little. A sinking form passed down in front of me and I swam as fast as I could towards it. I grabbed my mother and struggled to the surface, barely supporting her unconscious body. Sam threw me a rope and we were pulled to safety. As the boat sped away from The Siren’s Prisoner, we embraced, and a single thought rested in all three of our minds. No matter where we went, or where we ended up, the three of us would always stick together. A real family.