Stuart Gibbs - Charlie Thorne and the Lost City

Also by Stuart Gibbs

The FunJungle series

Belly Up

Poached

Big Game

Panda-monium

Lion Down

The Spy School series

Spy School

Spy Camp

Evil Spy School

Spy Ski School

Spy School Secret Service

Spy School Goes South

Spy School British Invasion

Spy School Revolution

The Moon Base Alpha series

Space Case

Spaced Out

Waste of Space

The Charlie Thorne series

Charlie Thorne and the Last Equation

The Last Musketeer

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text 2021 by Stuart Gibbs

Jacket design and illustration by Lucy Ruth Cummins 2021 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Gibbs, Stuart, 1969 author.

Title: Charlie Thorne and the lost city / Stuart Gibbs.

Description: First edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2021] | Series: Charlie Thorne; vol 2 | Audience: Ages 8 to 12 | Audience: Grades 46 | Summary: Charlie Thorne must search for Charles Darwins hidden treasure in South Americawith plenty of enemies hot on her trail Provided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020017301 (print) | LCCN 2020017302 (ebook) | ISBN 9781534443815 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781534443839 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Darwin, Charles, 18091882Fiction. | CYAC: GeniusFiction. | SpiesFiction. | Adventure and adventurersFiction. | Buried treasureFiction.

Classification: LCC PZ7.G339236 Ck 2021 (print) | LCC PZ7.G339236 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020017301

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020017302

In memory of Suzanne, my wonderful wife

We stopped looking for monsters under our bed when we realized that they were inside us.

CHARLES DARWIN

Guayaquil, Ecuador

August 18, 1835

12:58 a.m.

C harles Darwin was late.

He had already kept the crew of the HMS Beagle in South America for an extra ten months, waiting for him to return from his mysterious journeyand now he had missed their appointed meeting time by three hours.

Robert FitzRoy, the captain of the Beagle, was furious. He paced the rickety pier of the port like a caged animal, thinking that he should simply leave and strand that fool Darwin in South America once and for all. In fact, he should have done that nearly a year ago, when they had first returned to this dock, expecting to meet Darwin but instead finding only a local boy with a letter from the young naturalist, saying it would be another three months until his return.

That had happened twice more, and each time the crew had wanted to abandon Darwin and continue on with their journey, but FitzRoy had fought his own instincts and refused. Charles Darwin was a member of the English upper class: His grandfather was a respected philosopher, his father was a wealthy physician, and his mother was the heiress to the Wedgwood pottery fortune. If it were discovered that FitzRoy had abandoned the son of such a family in a lawless territory like Ecuador out of spite his head would roll.

And yet he was tempted to do so now.

Although Darwin had officially been brought on this voyage to help with geological surveys of South America, the true reason for his presence was to provide funding and friendship for FitzRoy, who wanted a fellow gentleman as company on the long voyage. (FitzRoy was a member of the aristocracy himself, whereas the entire crew were from the lower classes of society.) Although Darwin was only twenty-two years old at the time of departure, he had succeeded on both counts: He had plenty of money and was a very fine companion. However, the idea of doing scientific surveying had gone to his head. First he had collected so many specimens that the hold of the Beagle was already crammed full of them, and then he had undertaken this insane adventure to the interior of the continent: an expedition he claimed would take a month at most, but which had now dragged on for over ten times longer.

The Beagles journey had originally been planned for only two years, but they had been gone nearly twice thatand they still had half the world left to circumnavigate. The crew was on the verge of mutiny. FitzRoy himself desperately wanted to go home. He had spent most of the last year surveying the coast of Chile, which was harsh and unforgiving, but still better than Guayaquil, which sat almost directly on the equator and was surrounded by swampland. The humidity was brutal, even in the middle of the night, and the mosquitoes were relentless, hovering in thick, humming clouds. Plus, the inhabitants of Guayaquil were rogues, hucksters, and scoundrels. FitzRoy hated this place. If Darwin didnt show this time, he would weigh anchor and head for home.

There was a shout in the night. FitzRoy stopped his pacing and turned toward land.

He couldnt see anything. Thick tendrils of fog had crept in from the ocean, and the feeble glow of the Beagles gas lamps barely made a dent in the gloom.

But the pier was suddenly alive with noise, its rotted planks creaking wildly, as though several people were moving along it toward the Beagle, and moving quickly, too.

Hello? FitzRoy called into the darkness.

Robert? came the response. The voice was familiar, and yet it had changed since the last time FitzRoy had heard it. Hearing it should have filled him with relief, but instead it gave him the sense that something was very wrong.

Charles? FitzRoy asked.

Yes! Charles Darwin raced out of the fog, looking like the devil itself was on his heels. Wake the crew! he ordered. We must get the Beagle to sea at once!

Despite the urgency in Darwins voice and manner, FitzRoy didnt react right away. Instead, he stared at the young naturalist in astonishment. Darwins brusque attitude and failure to apologize for all the trouble hed caused were disturbing, but what really unsettled FitzRoy was his friends appearance.

Darwin barely looked human anymore. His clothes were in tatters, his shirt so filthy it was more dirt than linen, his shoes bound together with twine. And as for his body Darwin was almost emaciated, at least thirty pounds lighter than he had been before. His skin was baked brown as leather, and his arms, legs, and chest were covered with dozens of sores, many of which appeared to be infected. His once clean-shaven face was consumed by a ragged beard, while his eyes were wild with what looked like madness.