Printable Cipher Wheel Novels & Stories

Mikael asked her. “Ottendorf, and it’s a general name for ciphers that uses books, or other form of text, as a key. One of the most common ones is to use a three number sequence for each letter or word, the number being the page, line and letter or word of a specific book,” Rayvin told them. “Okay,” Ben said, a little unsure.

“This. Old school. No code machines, no firewalls. Just symbols.” Liora pulled it closer, flipping pages filled with strange grids, numbers paired with odd markings—circles, crosses, even drawings of sea creatures. “It’s a cipher,” she murmured. “But not random.” Wren leaned over her mother’s shoulder, her small fingers tracing one of the grids. “That looks like the puzzle in the back of the book,” she said. Liora blinked down at her. “What book?”

"A polyalphabetic cipher." "Worth a try?" Shawn responded as Catherine tapped the tablet and scrolled for something more. Catherine murmured under her breath, clearly relieved to have finally accomplished something. "Shawn, you can start substituting the letters as I read this…" "OK." "The Vigenère cipher is probably the best-known example of a polyalphabetic cipher, though it is a simplified special case. The idea was to encipher the first letter of the message using the first shifted alphabet, so A became B, B became C, etc. The second letter of the message was enciphered using the second shifted alphabet, etc."

Rearranging the stacks in my mind, I shift the final symbols into place, and as the words come into horrible focus, I feel a chill run down my spine as I realize I am on the right track. I quickly grab a fresh sheet of parchment, the back of my map, and begin shifting the letters by positions in the alphabet. My hands tremble with anticipation as the gibberish begins to form real words. My heart leaps as I realize I've found the key. The cipher slowly reveals its secret message under my decoding, letter by letter. I write down each of the letter with shaking hands. B | O | N | I | R | D | B | I | A | A | E | M | E | O | O | M

“I give you time. Speak. Where is the cipher? Who runs the anchor? How do they speak to each other?” He looked at me in a way that made something inside me tip. “Bram’s hut on the northern ridge, the cave by the river with the black mouth, a ledger kept at the eastern trading post under the cloth of a merchant who smells of ink and old coffee. The code is simple, a four-letter key concealed in a page with no numerals. You get those pages and the right eye sees more than ink.” Dalton barked a laugh that was not amused. “We get those pages and we break the ledger open. That gives us access to the small anchors. The big network will unravel after the anchors are pulled.”

Huh, how peculiar! "Ria, look. There's a paper behind this small portrait of Sun Tzu? I've read about him, he wrote the Art of War, didn't he? It's a book about warfare and military tactics." Now we're getting somewhere. I hurried to his side and read the message on the paper. "53. 43. 42. 34. 43. 33" "Is this what you call a cipher? They hide a message, do you know how to decode them?" Caspian thought and I grinned, "'Course! I'm not a Valler for nothing." I said proudly and he raised his brow and smirked.

They were gear teeth hidden in the concrete. ​"It’s a dial," Damian realized. "The entire press is a combination lock." ​I reached for the massive flywheel. It was cold, the iron biting into my palms. I didn't need a code; I needed a rhythm. I turned it three rotations to the left the "Vance" turn. Then, I stepped back and let Damian take the handle. ​"Now you," I whispered. "The Thorne turn. Four rotations to the right. The partner’s weight."

Grinning, the guard dragged the four-wheeler luggage all the way to her bed, told her a resounding congratulation before making her way out, jumping on the soles of his feet. Blinking stupidly, Hera made to crouch beside the luggage, catching glimpses of it but not daring enough to grab hold of it. Hera, instead, poured her attention at the circular seal carved on the envelope. Printed inside the outline of the seal was a crown arced with a laurel wreath in the corner, its center having a large ‘W’ and small ‘s’ just below. It had a faded look in it, especially its crimson tint.

Mia whispered, breaking away from Julian to point at the drying lines that were rolling off the wooden cylinder. I stepped closer to the mechanism, my eyes tracking the iron needle that was cutting into a master sheet of lead. The text wasn't coming from a terminal. It was being etched by an invisible hand, the characters forming symbols that didn't belong to the Vance encryption or the Thorne legacy. It was an older alphabet—one that looked like a cross between tree roots and tally marks.

"Then we keep moving." Before they could leave, Nathan noticed something unusual beneath the table. A small metal box. Locked. Its lid bore the same phoenix seal they had seen before. Michael knelt beside it. "There isn't a keyhole." Samuel examined it. "No." "There are four small wheels." Each wheel displayed numbers from zero to nine. Amara's eyes widened. "Zero." "Four." "One." "Nine." She reached out. Without hesitation, she turned the wheels. 0... 4...