Alcatraz (66 page)

‘You’re all dead, you know,’ Fitzroy sputtered in the darkness; he was still held – I assumed – under Sing’s arm.
‘They’ll burst in here in a second and then you’re dead.
What did you think?
You’re trapped!
Sandless idiots!’

I took a deep breath, righting myself.
Then I pushed the door open.

The blond Knight of Crystallia standing guard was still outside.
‘You all right?’
she asked, peeking in.
‘What happened?’
Behind her, I could see the stone stairwell of the Royal Archives, still packed with soldiers.

‘We’re back!’
Sing said.
‘How .
.
.?’

‘You powered the glass,’ Bastille said, looking at me.
‘Like you did with Rikers’s silimatic music box.
You initiated a swap!’

I nodded.
At my feet, the cords to the Librarian machinery lay cut at the ends.
Our swap had severed them where they’d poked through the door.

‘Shattering Glass, Smedry!’
Bastille said.
‘How in the name of the first Sands did you do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, rushing out the doorway.
‘We can worry about it later.
Right now, we’ve got to save Mokia.’

20

Q
uestions.

We’re at the end, and you probably have a few of them.
If you’ve been paying attention closely, you probably have more than just ‘a few’.

You should probably have more than you do.

I’ve tried to be honest, as honest as I can be.
I haven’t lied about anything important.

But some of the people in the story .
.
.
well, they’re lying for certain.

No matter how much you think you know, there is always more to learn.
It all has to do with Librarians, knights, and, of course, fish sticks.
Enjoy this next part.
I’ll see you in the Epilogue.

‘Aha!’
I said, pulling not one but
two
pairs of Translator’s Lenses from Fitzroy’s jacket.
The Dark Oculator himself lay tied up on the floor as we rode in the prince’s giant glass pig.
I’d told my soldiers to get some sort of equipment and dig to the corner of the archives room and remove the glass there, so that the Librarians couldn’t swap the room back and steal any of the other books.

‘I still don’t understand what happened,’ Sing said, sitting nervously as our vehicle plodded toward the palace.

‘Oculators can power glass,’ I said.
‘Like Lenses.’

‘Lenses are magic,’ Sing said.
‘That Transporter’s Glass was technology.’

‘The two are more similar than you think, Sing.
In fact, I think
all
of these powers are connected.
Do you remember what you said when you and I were hiding down there a few moments ago?
The thing about your sister?’

‘Sure,’ Sing said.
‘I mentioned that I wished she’d been there, because she could have imitated one of the Librarians.’

‘Which I could do with these,’ I said, holding up the pair of Disguiser’s Lenses, which we’d retrieved from Fitzroy.
‘Sing, these work
just
like Australia’s Talent does.
If she falls asleep thinking about somebody, she wakes up looking just like them.
Well, if I wear these and concentrate, I can do the same thing.’

‘What are you saying, Alcatraz?’
Folsom asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ I admitted.
‘It just seems suspicious to me.
I mean, look at your Talent.
It makes you a better warrior when you hear music, right?’

He nodded.

‘Well, what do Bastille’s Warrior’s Lenses do?’
I said.
‘They make her a better fighter.
My uncle Kaz’s Talent lets him transport people across great distances, which sounds an awful lot like what that Transporter’s Glass did.’

‘Yes,’ Sing said.
‘But what about your grandfather’s Talent?
It lets him arrive late to things, and there aren’t Lenses that do
that
.’

‘There are lots of types of glass we don’t know about,’ I said.
I picked up one of the rings of Inhibitor’s Glass, which we’d managed to get off our arms using a set of keys in Fitzroy’s pocket.
‘You thought these were mythical.’

Sing fell silent, and I turned, watching through the translucent walls as we approached the palace.
‘I think this is all related,’ I said more softly.
‘The Smedry Talents, silimatic technology, Oculators .
.
.
and whatever it is my mother is trying to accomplish.
It’s all connected.’

She didn’t believe what she said about the Librarians ruling everything.
She wasn’t certain
.

She has different goals from the other Librarians.
But what are they?

I sighed, shaking my head, reaching over to pick up the book we’d brought from the archives.
At least we had it, as well as both pairs of Translator’s Lenses.
I slipped the Lenses on, then glanced at the first page.

Soups for everyone
, it read.
A guide to the best Greek and Incarna cooking
.

I froze.
I flipped through the book anxiously, then took off the Lenses and tried the other pair.
Both showed the same thing.

This wasn’t the same book.

‘What?’
Sing asked.
‘Alcatraz, what is it?’

‘She switched books on us!’
I said, frustrated.
‘This isn’t the book on Incarna history – it’s the cookbook!’
I’d seen her work with deft fingers before, when she’d snatched the Sands of Rashid right out from under my nose back in my room in the Hushlands.
Plus, she had access to my father’s Talent of losing things.
It might be of help in hiding stuff.

I slammed the book back down on the table.
Around me, the rich, red-furnished room shook as the glass pig continued on its way.

‘That’s not important right now,’ Bastille said in an exhausted voice.
She sat on the couch beside Folsom and Himalaya, and she looked like she’d gotten even worse since we’d left the Librarians.
Her eyes were unfocused, as if she’d been drugged, and she kept rubbing her temples.

‘We need to stop the treaty first,’ she said.
‘Your mother can’t do anything with that book as long as
you
have both pairs of Translator’s Lenses.’

She was right.
Mokia had to be our focus now.
As the pig pulled up to the palace, I took a deep breath.
‘All right,’ I said.
‘You all know what to do?’

Sing, Folsom, Himalaya, and Prince Rikers each nodded.
We’d discussed our plan during the chapter break.
(Neener, neener.)

‘The Librarians aren’t likely to let this go smoothly,’ I said, ‘but I doubt there will be much they can do with all of the soldiers and knights guarding the palace.
However, they’re Librarians, so be ready for anything.’

They nodded again.
We prepared to go, and the door on the pig’s butt opened.
(I think that undermined our dramatic exit.) Bastille stood to go with us, wobbling on unsteady feet.

‘Uh, Bastille,’ I said.
‘I think you should wait here.’

She gave me a stiff glance – the kind that made me feel like I’d just been smacked across the face with a broom.
I took that as her answer.

‘All right,’ I said with a sigh.
‘Let’s go, then.’

We marched out of the pig and up the steps.
Prince Rikers called for guards immediately – I think he just liked the drama of having a full troop of soldiers with us.
Indeed, our entrance into the hallway with the wall-hanging panes of glass was rather intimidating.

The Knights of Crystallia standing at attention in the hallway saluted us as we passed, and I felt significantly more safe, knowing they were there.

‘Do you think your mother will have warned the others of what happened?’
Sing whispered.

‘I doubt it,’ I said.
‘Mother’s allies contacted She Who Cannot Be Named to gloat over having captured some valuable prisoners.
You don’t call to gloat over having lost those same prisoners.
I think we’ll surprise them.’

‘I hope so,’ Sing said as we approached the doors to the council room.
We nodded to the pair of knights, and then I stepped aside.

‘Time for your big entrance, your Highness,’ I said, gesturing for Prince Rikers.

‘Really?’
he said.
‘I get to do it?’

‘Go ahead,’ I said.

The prince dusted himself off.
He smiled broadly, then strode through the doors into the chamber and bellowed in a loud voice, ‘In the name of all that is just, I demand these proceedings to be halted!’

Down below, the monarchs sat around their table, a large document set out before them.
King Dartmoor held a quill in his hand, poised to sign.
We’d arrived just in the nick of time.
(What the heck is a nick anyway?)

The monarchs’ table sat in the open area in the center of the room, between the two raised sets of bleacherlike seats that were filled with patrons.
Knights of Crystallia stood in a ring around the bottom of the floor, between the people and the rulers.
They were most concentrated, I noticed, near where the Librarians sat.

She Who Cannot Be Named sat at the front of the Librarian group, pleasantly knitting an afghan.

‘What is this?’
King Dartmoor asked as the rest of my team piled into the room.

‘The Librarians are lying to You, Father!’
Rikers declared.
‘They tried to kidnap me!’

‘Why, that’s the most distressing thing I’ve ever heard,’ said She Who Cannot Be Named.
(You know what?
That name is really too hard to type all the time.
From here on, I’m going to call her Swcbn.)

My companions looked at me.
I wore the Truthfinder’s spectacles, one eye closed to look through the single Lens.
Unfortunately, Swcbn hadn’t said anything that was false – she’d avoided doing so deliberately, I’m sure.

‘Father,’ Prince Rikers said, ‘We can provide proof of what happened!’
He waved behind him, and the two knights we’d brought with us entered, carrying the tied and gagged Fitzroy.
‘This is a Librarian of the order of the Dark Oculators!
He was involved in a plot to steal books from the Royal Archives—’

‘Mumf mu mumfmumf,’ Fitzroy added.

‘—which turned into a plot to kidnap me, the royal heir!’
Rikers continued.

Rikers certainly did know how to get into a part.
He didn’t seem as much a buffoon now that he was in his element of the court.

‘Lady Librarian,’ King Dartmoor said, turning to Swcbn.

‘I’m .
.
.
not sure what is happening,’ she said.
Another half-truth that didn’t come out as a lie.

‘She does, Your Majesty,’ I declared, stepping up.
‘She ordered the death of Himalaya, who is now a member of the Smedry clan.’

That caused a stir.

‘Lady Librarian,’ the king said, red-bearded face growing very stern.
‘Is what he says true, or is it false?’

‘I’m not sure if you should be asking me, dear.
It’s quite—’

‘Answer the question!’
the king bellowed.
‘Have Librarians been plotting to steal and kidnap from us while these very treaty hearings have been occurring?’

The grandmotherly Librarian looked at me, and I could tell that she knew she was caught.
‘I think,’ she said, ‘that my team and I should be granted a short recess to discuss.’

‘No recess!’
the king said.
‘Either you answer as asked, or I’m tearing this treaty in half this instant.’

The elderly Librarian pursed her lips, then finally set down her knitting.
‘I will admit,’ she said, ‘that some
other
branches of the Librarians have been pursuing their own ends in the city.
However, this is one of the main reasons we are signing this treaty – so that you can give
my
sect the authority it needs to stop the other sects from continuing this needless war!’

‘And the execution of my beloved?’
Folsom demanded.

‘In my eyes, young man,’ Swcbn said, ‘that one is a traitor and a turncoat.
How would your own laws treat someone who committed treason?’

The room fell still.
Where was my grandfather?
His seat at the table was noticeably empty.

‘Considering this information,’ said King Dartmoor, ‘how many of you
now
vote against signing the treaty?’

Five of the twelve monarchs raised their hands.

‘And I assume Smedry would still vote against the signing,’ Dartmoor said, ‘assuming he hadn’t stormed out in anger.
That leaves six against six.
I am the deciding vote.’

‘Father,’ the prince called.
‘What would a hero do?’

The king hesitated.
Then, embarrassingly, he looked up at me.
He stared me in the eyes.
Then he ripped the treaty in two.

‘I find it telling,’ he declared to Swcbn, ‘that you cannot control your own people despite the importance of these talks!
I find it disturbing that you would be willing to execute one of your own for joining a kingdom with which you
claim
you want to be friends.
And, most of all, I find it disgusting what I nearly did.
I want you Librarians out of my kingdom by midnight.
These talks are at an end.’