The Secret Cipher by Whitaker Ringwald

this, remember? He told her to visit this booth if she came to the festival.”
    I nodded. But why, after stealing a magical urn, would she stop here?
    The shelves were filled with board games and jigsaw puzzles. People stood around a table, working on different puzzles, some wooden, some made from metal. Rubik’s Cubes were stacked to the ceiling.
    â€œAre you the puzzle master?” the girl asked a woman who was sitting on a stool. The woman was very plump, with frizzy black hair sticking out of a red scarf. Her big, golden hoop earrings and white blouse made her look like a pirate wench.
    â€œThe one and only,” the woman said.
    â€œIt was told to me that you are an expert in puzzles.”
    â€œThat’s true.” Then she pointed at a little boy. “Hey, kid! Don’t open the box unless you’re going to buy it!” The boy put the box down and darted away.
    Ethan and I stood to the side, watching as the girl reached into her black bag and pulled out a brown leather belt. She straightened the leather belt and held it in front of the woman. The puzzle master pursed her lips. “I don’t sell belts,” she said. “Costumes are in aisle five.” The girl flipped the belt over and the puzzle master’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see.” She leaned close to the leather. “What language is this?”
    â€œGreek,” the girl answered.
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t read Greek.”
    â€œI do, but this message makes no sense. The letters form no words.”
    The puzzle master tapped a finger to her round chin. “It would appear that what you have is a cipher.”
    â€œA cipher?”
    â€œIndeed. A cipher is like a code, however it requires a key. Let me show you.” The puzzle master slid off her stool, then pulled a box from one of her shelves. After opening the box, she removed a wooden rod and a long strip of leather. Ethan and I stepped closer so we could see what was going on. “When ancient armies needed to communicate, they often used a cipher. The commanders would carry identical rods. After winding the leather around the rod, a message was written along the length of the leather. You see how it says, The enemy is near?”
    The girl nodded. So did Ethan and I.
    The puzzle master continued. “Once the message was written, the leather strip was unwound and the blank spaces filled in with other letters. Thus, when the leather strip lies flat, the message is indecipherable to the naked eye.” She unwound the leather and showed it to the girl.
    â€œIt makes no sense,” the girl said.
    â€œExactly. That is the genius of a cipher. Onlythose with the proper key can decipher the message.” She rewound the leather onto the rod. “ Voilà . The message appears once again.”
    The girl took her leather belt and began to wind it around the wooden rod. “It doesn’t fit,” she said.
    â€œIt will only work if you find the correct size key, both in length and width.”
    â€œWhat does this have to do with the urn?” I asked Ethan. We were standing shoulder to shoulder, watching as the girl tucked the belt back into her bag.
    â€œI don’t know,” he said, reaching into his pocket. His phone was ringing again.
    â€œTell Tyler to quit calling. We’re trying to accomplish something!” Seriously, Tyler had zero patience. All he had to do was wait in the car and be ready to drive at warp speed. We were doing all the work. But how were we supposed to focus when he kept interrupting?
    But Ethan pushed the telephone in front of my face. The screen read, Ricardo.

15
Ethan
    FACT: There are two types of stress—acute and chronic. My nosebleeds came from acute stress, which is a temporary reaction to a situation or event—like lying to my parents or getting a phone call from a mysterious evil villain. Chronic means living in a constant state of stress. I was heading in that