Leonardo da Vinci: Renaissance Master by Ann Hood Read Free Book Online

Great-Uncle Thorne or Great-Aunt Maisie,” Maisie said. “They must have needed it to time travel, too.”
    â€œI guess we should go into their rooms and search?” Felix said, not wanting to go into either of those bedrooms. Great-Aunt Maisie’s made him sad, and now with Great-Uncle Thorne in the ICU in the hospital, it seemed wrong to snoop around his room.
    â€œI’ll take hers,” Maisie volunteered. “And you can look in Great-Uncle Thorne’s.”
    â€œOkay,” Felix agreed, even though he got a pit in his stomach at the idea.
    Resolved, Maisie put her shard back around her neck and headed toward the door.
    â€œWait,” Felix said thoughtfully.
    â€œStop delaying!” Maisie said.
    Now Felix walked over to the Ming vase.
    â€œWhen you put your shard back, there’s only
one
other piece missing,” he said.
    â€œSo?”
    â€œThat means Great-Aunt Maisie and Great-Uncle Thorne only needed one shard to communicate when they time traveled.”
    â€œSo?” Maisie said again, more frustrated. Sometimes Felix’s cowardice was endearing. But sometimes—like now—it was maddening.
    â€œSo we already have one shard, and that’s all we need,” Felix explained. “What we have to figure out is how one shard lets both of us understand another language and speak it, too.”
    Maisie considered this. He was right. Somehow one shard worked for two people. But how?
    â€œMaybe we have to be touching each other or something,” Felix said, thinking out loud.
    Maisie shook her head. “That can’t be it. Remember, we spend time apart, like in China when we were separated.”
    â€œMaybe we should hold hands when we touch the object,” Felix said.
    Maisie winced.
    â€œSo that we’ll be sure to land together,” he told her, insulted.
    â€œBut what about if we get separated later?” Maisie protested. “Like in London when you were in the workhouse—”
    Felix shuddered. “Don’t remind me,” he said.
    â€œThere has to be something we’re missing,” Maisie said, walking back into The Treasure Chest and staring at the small hole in the vase.
    Felix stifled a big yawn. “Why don’t we just sleep on it,” he suggested.
    â€œOkay,” Maisie said reluctantly, “but every minute we wait keeps Great-Uncle Thorne in that ICU.”

    Despite how tired Felix was, when he got into bed he couldn’t sleep. He tried counting backward from one hundred. He tried deep yoga breaths, which his mother claimed always put you to sleep. He even tried naming all the states alphabetically. But all he did was get from one hundred to one, breathe a lot, real slow and deep, and name forty-four states, which left him frustrated and more awake because he couldn’t figure out which six he forgot.
    Warm milk
, Felix thought. His father swore by warm milk.
Tryptophan
, his father claimed, even though his mother said that was an old wives’ tale.
    Felix got out of bed and made his way down the long hallway to the Grand Staircase. Elm Medona was definitely creepy at night. He didn’t like the shadows or the way everything—clocks ticking, floorboards creaking, even his own footsteps—echoed. He walked faster, gripping the bannister as he started down the stairs.
    Something caught his eye, stopping him midway.
    A strange glow emanated from the wall.
    Felix swallowed hard and tried to keep himself from trembling as he moved slowly toward it.
    Surely it’s just a trick of light or shadow
, he decided.
    He blinked.
    No, there was definitely a glow coming from . . .
    Felix stopped.
    The glow emanated from the photograph of Great-Aunt Maisie as a young girl, the one where Great-Uncle Thorne stuck his head into the picture.
    They both stared out at Felix, young and healthy.
    Felix sighed. Up close, he couldn’t see anything glowing.
    But just as he turned to