The baby's squalling woke Angus with a jolt. Marcus reached over and laid a hand on his arm.
"No crisis. Just a wet diaper," Marcus told him. Angus breathed out. Much has he liked having kids around, sometimes a squalling baby was just a pain in the butt. "Sorry about that," Marcus told him. "That's annoying. I know."
"I didn't need any sleep anyway," Angus said slightly sarcastically. Marcus laughed.
"Hey, we got a message through the floo from Tyler, and its encrypted. Got a code key lying about?"
"Really?" Angus frowned. Tyler hadn't done that since they were kids. "Let me see it. Sometimes he just makes up his own."
"Well, I presume you know his patterns, so even if he made it up, we should be able to crack it together," Marcus told him. "I have some of the letters worked out, but not nearly all of them, and some of them aren't shaping up to make sense."
"That's because he sometimes not only encrypted them but then scrambled the damned words. He liked to try to stymie me with them. He never managed but sometimes it did take me several hours. I'll tell you who's bloody good with codes, strange as it sounds--Michael."
"No way," Marcus frowned.
"I'm perfectly serious," Angus nodded. "He's had to learn that with all the extracting he does."
"Well, now that actually makes sense," Marcus said. "Let's send him a bird and see if he's free."
"Fine," Angus said. Marcus sent a paper bird to the other building, and in about fifteen minutes, Michael was knocking on the door. Marcus answered, and he and Angus were both surprised to see he was dressed in some well cu jeans and a sportshirt, as if he'd been somewhere somewhat important.
"We pulled you away from something," Marcus said.
"Yes, and no," Michael said. "I was at a concert in the village park with Daniella. You know, the kind you take a picnic to and sit on your own blanket on the ground to listen to, but it was horrid. We were both bored out of our minds, and I was actually dozing. I think she was relieved to buggar back to Paris, and I'm not disappointed at being taken away from it either. What's up?"
"Feel like a little code cracking?" Marcus asked, him, showing him the cypher.
"Bloody hell," Michael frowned. "That's a cocked up mess if I ever saw one. Who designed that sloppy code?"
"My brother Tyler," Angus said.
"Amateur. Figures. Alright, well, let's give it a go," Michael said. He used a charm to make additional copies, and the three of them worked on it together for the better part of an hour, and then Michael laughed. "That little sneaky prat."
"What?" Marcus asked.
"you see at the front of each word there is a dash that is either horizontal or vertical? Well, the horizontal dash means the word is in English. The vertical dash means that damned word is Italian."
"Well, shit," Marcus sighed. "I wasn't thinking of two languages. I was thinking the letters were scrambled."
"They are," Michael said. "And, he's reversed the alphabet, so if you think the letter you're looking at is an x, well you're wrong. Since X is the third letter from the end of the alphabet, go to the other end and count three letters from the start."
"So the X is a C, and the Z is an A," Angus said.
"Exactly. And he's scrambled the letters to boot." Michael said. "And then, just for fun, every third Italian word isn't really Italian at all. It's French."
"So why all the cloak and dagger, after all these years?" Angus sighed, frustrated.
"I don't know, but I'm not liking it. I think it's a dire warning of some sort, just from what bits and pieces I've got," Michael said.
"Of course it is," Angus said. "Only a knucklehead encrypts an emergency message that takes three people to decipher."