Page 148 of Stealing Infinity (Stolen Beauty)

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I fall back on my heels, wondering if the cold has somehow gone to my head.

If I’ve become as desperate as a wanderer lost in the desert who starts seeing mirages beyond every sand dune.

But it can’t be. Deep in my gut, I know I’m onto something. Because that night back at Gray Wolf, when Arthur took me to the Vault, I had a vision of the original version of the Antikythera Mechanism, I got to see how it looked before it was dismantled and lost, and I know in my bones, all the way down to my frozen blue toes, that the sun is the key to solving this mystery. And that, for whatever reason, my dad has prepared me for this moment.

Is it possible he was somehow working with Arthur?

I force the thought from my mind and focus on things I know for a fact. All the pieces are falling into place, and every one of them leads back tole soleil.

Fact: King Louis XIV was known as the Sun King.

The arrangement of this garden, from the Great Axis that starts at the chateau, then leads west past theBassin de Latoneall the way to theBassin d’Apollon,runs in a straight line from east to west—parallel to the daily journey of the sun.

Both the Visconti Sforza deck and the modern day tarot deck depict the Sun card using the image of both a cherub and the sun.

On the Sforza deck, the one Arthur and my dad both relied on, the cherub is even holding the sun aloft in its hands.

Also, the Sun card in tarot falls in the nineteenth position.

In numerological terms, 1 + 9 = 10. And of course, reduced even further, 1 + 0 = 1.

The Wheel of Fortune card I pulled back at Arcana that began this whole journey is number ten in the Major Arcana, which reduces to one.

While the Magician, the card I associated with Arthur, is number one.

Are these links a coincidence?

Or am I overthinking, seeing connections where they don’t really exist?

Either way, I need to find out.

I clamber closer to Saturn’s wing and stare at the place where I’m sure I saw the light emanate, but all it reveals now is blank space.

I shoot a look over my shoulder, as though willing the cherub to give up the goods.

Then I return to Saturn, a dude who was so afraid of losing his power, he ate his own kids.

“C’mon,” I say, under my breath. “I know you’re hiding it. I know—” A flash of something bright and quick catches at the corner of my eye, and I thrust my hand toward it once more, gaping in astonishment as a small golden ball appears from out of nowhere.

This is it.

I know in my gut that it’s true.

This ancient sphere of gold is the missing piece to the Antikythera Mechanism that’s meant to stand in for the sun.

I curl my fingers around the smooth, shiny surface and give it a yank. When it doesn’t come away as easily as I’d hoped, I bend into a crouch, wedge my feet hard against Saturn’s butt, tighten my grip, and use the full force of my weight to heave my body back so hard, the sphere comes loose in my hand.

My first thought is one of triumph at having succeeded where others failed.

My second thought is unmitigated horror at discovering the momentum I’d created to pull the sun free is now working against me, causing my head to snap up toward the stars as the seat of my gown careens along the slippery slope of Saturn’s outstretched leg, before crashing my hip against the cherub’s shoulder where I’m catapulted into the sky, arms helplessly flailing, legs splaying over my head, spinning me backward until I’m somersaulting right over the edge.

I land with a splash.

A gush of disgusting fountain water spills into my mouth, while my feet scramble beneath me, searching for purchase, struggling to determine which way is up.

When I break, when my face splits the surface, leaving me retching and gagging and struggling to purge all the water from my lungs and replace it with air, I realize my right fist is still tight, but I’m too afraid to look inside.

You can do this.My heart thrashes wildly in my chest.You need to do this.

Slowly, I force myself to uncurl one trembling finger at a time, convinced that I lost it in the fall, only to gasp in wonder when I find the sun—an ancient artifact over two thousand years old—rolling gently across the lines of my palm.

That rush of adrenaline that kept me going until now gusts right out of me, reminding me again just how damn cold this water is. With one task down and another to go, I quickly shuffle toward the edge, climb over the rim, and have just stepped onto dry land when the sky collapses, the ground caves in, and the entire world crumbles around me.