
William sadly shook his head. John hasn't gotten back to me, but I was able to get in touch with some old friends. They think they can find these guys. However, we must first comprehend the situation we find ourselves in."
He pointed to a briefcase he'd dusted up and set on top of the box. Olivia opened it quickly to discover a jumble of battered leather-bound volumes and scattered papers with odd markings all over them.
"These are ancient texts," William said in a quiet voice. "They go into great depth about the Phoenix Stone's past and the covert organization entrusted with keeping it safe.  For centuries, my family has been engaged in some capacity.
Marie and Olivia looked at one other, startled. Is William a part of a covert organization? 
They gathered around the container for many hours, studying the worn inscriptions in the faint glow of the flashlight. William transcribed bits a


They studied the baseboard with a renewed sense of purpose, looking for any irregularity, any loose panel, any protruding lever, anything that may indicate a secret message.  Hours passed into minutes, and as time went on, their irritation grew.
Marie was ready to give up when Olivia triumphantly wept.  She had discovered a little, quite imperceptible depression in the wood at the corner.  Her fingers trembled as she pushed it.
There was a pleasant click in the room, and then there was a little grinding noise.  A part of the bookcase, indistinguishable from the others, moved inward, exposing a cramped, darkened passageway.
Marie caught her breath. That was it. John's last words, tucked up behind his study's walls.  After exchanging anxious looks, they took hold of an oil lantern that was close by and entered the hallway.
The secret room was small and dirty, not even big enough for them 


Each sharp ring of the dial tone scraped against Marie's already strained nerves. Olivia did not answer. Her gut ached with panic. What other choice did she have? She was unable to contact the police because they would not accept a tale involving a mythological relic and a hidden group. With their life in jeopardy, John was imprisoned with armed men within the home.
Marie was about to give Marco a call when a tentative voice answered. "Hello?"
"Olivia, it's Marie," she blurted out, a surge of relief sweeping over her.
On the other end of the line, silence extended. "Marie? What's not right?" When Olivia did inquire, her tone was suspicious.
Marie inhaled deeply and began speaking quickly, reliving the whole night's events. She spoke about John's daring scheme, the invaders, the secret room, and her escape.
"There's more," she murmured in her second sentence. "This is discussed in a book written by John's grandpa.Stone of Phoenix. They are pursuing it.
There was a lengthy silence after that. "The Phoenix Stone?" Olivia's voice was barely audible as she echoed.  "Are you sure?"
Indeed! I read about it in the book," Marie urged. Olivia, you must lend a hand! There's danger for John."
After a prolonged silence, Olivia finally responded in a strangely composed tone. "All right, Marie. Remain calm. I may be able to assist someone you know."
Marie felt a glimmer of hope. "Are you serious? Who?"
The response took me by surprise. "My father."
Marie felt a chill go down her spine at the name. William Ashton was the one who had sowed discord between Mary and John and had masterminded her demise. Still, she clung to any semblance of safety in the face of this new menace.
"Your father?" With hesitation, Marie repeated. "But why him?"
Olivia whispered softly, "There's something you don't know about my family, Marie." We've had a past with the hidden group you alluded to. My father may be able to locate them and alert them about the invaders."
Torn between mistrust and desperation, Marie paused. "Can you trust him?"
With a sigh, Olivia said, "I don't know." However, this Phoenix Stone is not to be taken lightly.  The book has the potential to be disastrous if what it claims is accurate."
Marie was aware of her accuracy. John's life was in jeopardy, but the danger was enormous.
"All right," she responded in a tense voice. Tell everything to your father. We need his assistance."
Olivia responded, "I'll meet you at your apartment," her voice becoming urgent. "We have no time to lose."
Marie hung up and dashed back to her flat, her insides a tornado of feelings.  Their tenuous partnership with Olivia was their only chance, so their distrust was matched with desperation.
Olivia stepped out of a beautiful black sedan that had just driven up to her building. Her eyes were shining with a renewed resolve, and her face was pallid. The cold contempt had gone, and in its stead was a feeling of urgency that matched Marie's own.
Olivia said in a hurried voice, "Let's go."
They ran inside, Olivia showing Marie how to get to her little flat. The stillness within was unbearable. The enormity of their situation descended upon them.
"What now?" Marie asked in a barely audible whisper.
With a determined sparkle in her eyes, Olivia took out her phone. "We make a call."
The phone rang, forever ringing. At last, a harsh voice responded. "Olivia? What does this late-night call mean?
Olivia said, "Father," in a remarkably calm voice. "A crisis has arisen. It has to do with the Phoenix Stone."
There was silence for a moment, and then a sudden gasp. While she waited for William Ashton to respond, Marie held her breath.
"The Phoenix Stone?" William's voice came back over the phone, mixed with a hint of fear and astonishment.  "Explain."
Olivia told the tale of the invaders, the secret room, and their quest for the relic in a clear and urgent manner. Marie listened carefully, her sensation of dread increasing with each passing syllable.
William listened carefully and sighed deeply. "I didn't realize how serious this was.  Okay, Olivia, I'll see you in thirty minutes at the old Elm Street warehouse. Marie should go with you."
The call ended. With worry and anxiety imprinted on her features, Marie fixed her gaze on Olivia.
"The old warehouse?" Marie stumbled. There, with a tremble coursing through her, Marie's voice faltered in reference to the debt collectors. Dark memories flooded the ancient warehouse on Elm Street, the same location where she had been kept hostage by the merciless debt collectors. 
Olivia still couldn't interpret her face. "Seems like this has come full circle," she replied in an emotionless voice. Marie, I assure you that this is the only path. That warehouse is like second nature to my father. It could serve as a sanctuary of safety where we can gather and plan our next course of action."
Marie was not persuaded. William Ashton, the mastermind behind her financial demise, extending an invitation to them to seek safety? It was akin to a trap. Still, the desperation in Olivia's eyes matched her own as she stared into them. William was their sole lead, and John was in danger.
At last, Marie murmured, "Alright," her voice tense with nervousness. "Let's go."
There was an unsettling stillness during the journey to the warehouse. Olivia's knuckles became white as she held fast to the steering wheel. With the streets empty and the atmosphere even more dismal, Marie sneaked looks out the window.
Marie felt sick to her stomach as they approached the warehouse. With its windows like vacant eyes peering down at them, the massive brick edifice looked large against the night sky. 
Olivia shut off the engine and parked in the darkness. "Remain near," she said as she got out of the automobile. 
With caution, they moved toward the warehouse, and the only sound to break the calm was the crunch of gravel under their boots. Olivia reached under the eaves to a little keypad. She entered a string of digits with ease that belied her experience.
A side door creaked open with a mechanical moan, exposing a dirty, gloomy interior. The stench of wet dirt and neglected objects lingered heavily in the air. 
Olivia turned on a little flashlight, piercing the darkness with its beam. She said, "Come on," and went inside.
With her pulse racing in her chest, Marie paused for a little minute. Afterward, she inhaled deeply and trailed Olivia into the beast's guts.
The warehouse threw long, warped shadows in the beam of the flickering spotlight, a maze of tall shelves and piled containers. With every stride, the temperature dropped, giving Marie chills.
Abruptly, a harsh voice broke the stillness. "Olivia?"
They discovered William Ashton, his worried expression furrowed, standing next to a large container. His silver hair was receding at the temples, and he seemed older than Marie had recalled. She was shocked, however, to see a gleam of resolve in his eyes.
"Marie," William nodded curtly in acknowledgment. "I apologize for the unorthodox location, but secrecy is paramount."
"Where's John?" Marie blurted out, eagerness in her voice. "Are the intruders still there?"

William sadly shook his head. John hasn't gotten back to me, but I was able to get in touch with some old friends. They think they can find these guys. However, we must first comprehend the situation we find ourselves in."
He pointed to a briefcase he'd dusted up and set on top of the box. Olivia opened it quickly to discover a jumble of battered leather-bound volumes and scattered papers with odd markings all over them.
"These are ancient texts," William said in a quiet voice. "They go into great depth about the Phoenix Stone's past and the covert organization entrusted with keeping it safe.  For centuries, my family has been engaged in some capacity.
Marie and Olivia looked at one other, startled. Is William a part of a covert organization? 
They gathered around the container for many hours, studying the worn inscriptions in the faint glow of the flashlight. William transcribed bits and pieces of the texts, showing astonishing proficiency in the old language.
As they looked clos

Chapter 10: An Intense Lookabout