Vespers Rising

Chapter 1

Hey! This is a Fanfiction for the 39 Clues series. My friends suggested I put it on wattpad, so its finally here. I hope you all like it and please comment/vote. Thanks!

After surviving explosions, poisonous snake attacks, and a leaky submarine, Amy Cahill did not want to die on the Mass Turnpike.

" Nellie!" she shouted as their au pair swerved to pass yet another car. "There's no one chasing us anymore. You can keep it under ninety for a while!"

"Caught in a bad romance. Whoaaa-oh-ooooh!" Nellie wailed along to the XM radio blaring from the enormous speakers.

"Nellie!"

"What?" She looked over and saw Amy glowering. "Sorry kiddo." Nellie smiled sheepishly. "But this bad boy has a need for speed." She patted the steering wheel fondly. When Amy didn't respond, Nellie frowned slightly. " Are you okay? I mean, I know this trip is going to be-"

"I'm fine," Amy interrupted. She forced a smile.

" Can I uncover my ears now?" Dan called from the back, where he was reclined across the leather seat. "Has Nellie stopped her Lady Gag Me impression?"

"Fine, so singing isn't one of my many talents," Nellie said. "Now, ask me to find a restaurant that serves good Mongolian-Brazilian fusion, and I've got you covered. Oooh! I bet the GPS thingy here could do it. Let's see..." Nellie took one hand off the steering wheel and began fiddling with the touch-screen navigation system.

"Nellie!" Amy yelped as their car started drifting toward the concrete median. "Focus!"

"Chill out, Amy," Dan shouted over the music. "Nothing can happen to us in" -he lowered his voice so it sounded like a movie trailer-"The Madrigalator."

Amy rolled her eyes. " The Madrigalator" was what Dan named their new car-the enormous SUV Fiske had bought them when they got back to Boston. Amy had wanted a Prius, but Fiske insisted on the armoured gas guzzler. "Isabel Kabra might be locked up," he had said, "but there are still people out there who want to hurt you."

Of course, he hadn't considered the danger of giving Nellie a two-ton death machine with access to almost every song in the world.

At the next exit, Nellie pulled off the highway and turned onto a tree-lined road. The gas stations and confidence stores disappeared. After a few miles, the road narrowed and they were driving under a canopy of rust- and copper-colored leaves. Dan sat up, Nellie turned off the music unprompted.

They drove for a few minutes before Nellie broke the silence. "I can't believe Beatrice never took you guys here," she said softly. "That's just cruel."

Amy glanced back at Dan. He never missed an opportunity to make fun of their great-aunt. But this time, he said nothing.

They rounded a bend and tall iron gates came into view. CRESTWOOD CEMETERY. Nellie turned in to a driveway and parked next to the caretaker's building. No one moved. After a few long moment's, Nellie unfastened her seat belt, reached over, and squeezed Amy's hand. "Let's go say hi to your parents, kiddo."

They climbed the same hill Amy had trudged up seven years before. She remembered having to hold Dan's hand tightly because the grass had been damp, and he kept slipping in his tiny, brand-new dress shoes.

Hope's and Arthur's graves were side by side. The stones had faded slightly, and grass had grown over the dirt mounds.

HOPE CAHILL

1960 - 2001

FRIEND, MOTHER, EXPLORER

ARTHUR TRENT