They ran toward the back of the sanctuary.
Amy didn't have time to admire the church, but she felt like she'd plunged into the Middle Ages. Gray stone columns soared up to a vaulted ceiling. Endless rows of wooden pews faced the altar, and stained glass windows glinted in the dim light of prayer candles. Their footsteps echoed on the stone tiles.
"There!" Dan yelled. A door stood open on their left -- a steep flight of stairs leading up. Amy latched the door behind them, but she knew it wouldn't hold the Holts for long.
They scrambled up the stairs. Dan started wheezing. Amy put her arm around him and half carried him.
Up, up, up. She hadn't realized the bell tower could be so high. Finally, she found a trapdoor and threw it open. Rain poured down on her face. They climbed into the belfry, which was open to the storm on all sides. A bronze bell the size of a file cabinet sat in one corner. It looked like it hadn't been rung in centuries.
"Help me!" Amy cried. She could hardly move the bell, but together, they managed to drag it on top of the trapdoor.
"That-should-hold," Dan wheezed. "Little-while."
Amy leaned out the side of the tower, into the rain and darkness. The graveyard looked impossibly far below. The cars on the street looked like the Matchbox toys Dan used to play with. Amy groped along the stone wall outside the window. Her fingers closed around a cold metal bar. A tiny set of rungs was embedded in the side of the tower, leading up to the steeple, about ten feet above her. If she fell...
"Stay here," she ordered Dan.
"No! Sis, you can't -- "
"I have to. Here, take this." She gave him the paper that had been wrapped around the vial. "Keep that dry and hidden."
Dan stuffed it into his pants. "Sis ..."
He looked terrified. Amy realized more than ever how alone they were in the world. All they had was each other.
She squeezed his shoulder. "I'll make it back, Dan. Don't worry."
BOOM!
The bell shuddered as someone underneath, someone very strong, slammed into the trapdoor.
BOOM!
Amy slipped the glass vial into her pocket and swung one leg out the window, into open darkness.
She could barely hang on. Rain stung her eyes. She didn't dare look down. She concentrated on the next rung of the ladder, and slowly, she pulled herself up onto the slanted tile roof.
Finally, she was at the peak. An old iron lightning rod pointed into the sky. At its base was a metal ring like a tiny basketball hoop, and below that a grounding wire, just like Franklin had recommended in his early experiments. Amy lashed the wire around her wrist, then took out the vial. It was so slippery she almost lost it. Carefully, she slipped it into the iron ring -- a perfect fit.
She inched back down the roof. "Please," she thought, holding on tight to the rungs.
She didn't have to wait long. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She smelled something like burning aluminum foil, and then,
CRACCCCK!
The sky exploded. Sparks rained down all around her, hissing on the wet tiles. Dazed, she lost her balance and skittered down the roof. She grabbed frantically and caught a rung so hard pain shot up her wrist. But she held on and began to climb back to the top.
The glass vial was glowing. The green liquid inside was no longer murky and slimy. It seemed to be made of pure green light, trapped in glass. Carefully, Amy touched it.
There was no shock. It wasn't even warm. She slipped the vial out of its brace and put it back in her pocket.
As thou charge this, so I charge thee.
The hardest part was still to come. She had to get away safely and figure out what she'd just created.
"Dan! I did it!" She climbed back into the bell tower, but her smile melted. Dan was lying on the floor, bound and gagged. Standing over him, in black combat fatigues, was Ian Kabra.
"Hello, cousin." Ian held out a plastic syringe. "I'll trade you."
"MMMM!"
Dan struggled and tried to say something.
"MMMM! MMMM!"
"Let -- let him go!" Amy stammered. She was sure her face was bright red. She hated that she was stuttering again. Why did Ian Kabra turn her tongue to lead?
The bronze bell shuddered. The Holts were still pounding away below, trying to get through the trapdoor.
"You only have a few seconds before they come up," Ian warned. "Besides, your brother needs the antidote."
Amy's stomach clenched. "Wh-what have you done to him?"
"Nothing that can't be reversed if you act in the next minute or so." Ian dangled the antidote. "Give me Franklin's vial. It's a fair trade."
"MMM!"
Dan shook his head violently, but Amy couldn't risk losing him. Nothing was worth that. Not a clue. Not a treasure. Nothing.
She held out the glowing green vial. Ian took it and she snatched the antidote out of his hand. She knelt next to Dan and started tugging at the gag in his mouth.
Ian chuckled. "Nice doing business with you, cousin."
"You'll -- you'll never make it out of the tower. You're trapped up here the same as -- "
Then something occurred to her. How had Ian gotten up here in the first place? She noticed straps running across his chest, like a climbing harness. At his feet lay a bundle of metal poles and black silk.
"Another thing Franklin loved." Ian picked up his bundle and began fastening the black silk to the metal frame. "Kites. He pulled himself across the Charles River with one, did you know?"
"You couldn't have -- "
"Oh, yes I did." He pointed to the glowing dome of the larger church at the top of the hill. "I sailed right down from Sacré-Coeur. And now I'm going to sail right out again."