One False Note (The 39 Clues, #2)

by Gordon Korman

Through an archway in the never-ending passage, they could make out a heavy stone pillar. Propped up against it was— “A ladder!” Amy breathed. They rushed over and gazed up through a thick iron grate. “Sunlight!” she hissed. She had never expected to see it again. Dan scaled the wooden rungs and pushed at the metal. “Give me a hand, will you?” Amy joined him on the ladder. Slowly, the two of them were able to budge the heavy grill enough to heave it over. A loud gonging sound resonated. They scrambled through the opening and hoisted themselves into the room. The large space was lined with small neat cots that rested directly on the stone floor. But that was not its most notable feature. At the foot of every bunk stood a black-robed monk with a shaved crown. Forty pairs of startled eyes were fixed on the Cahills. Forty mouths dropped open in shock. The Benedictine monks of St. Peter’s gawked at the Cahills as if they could not believe such creatures existed. An older monk, his tonsure ringed with gray, noticed the parchment clutched in Amy’s hands. The cry that issued from him was less than human.