I held it for Sing and Quentin. Bastille left next, and I paused, turning and smiling at the packed room. One of the dinosaurs – the T. Rex – finally reached the checkout desk. He slammed down his pile of books, then placed the library card on top of it.
“I’d like to check these out!” he said eagerly.
Ms. Fletcher stood, arms folded as her soldiers tried to push through the crowd. She met my eyes, and I could see from her expression that she knew she was beaten.
I raised my sword to her in a gesture of farewell. The blade immediately fell free and dropped to the ground.
I stared at it for a moment. What? I thought I was finally figuring out how to control my Talent!
Ms. Fletcher gave me a curious expression, as if confused by my gesture, and I sighed, flipping the broken bit into the room. Then I stepped out onto the sidewalk. Sing (still carrying my grandfather) and Quentin ran ahead, moving toward Grandpa Smedry’s little black car, which still waited where it had been parked.
Bastille still stood by the door. She met my eyes. “All right, all right,” she said. “You were right about the dinosaurs. This time.”
I stepped aside as some brave library patrons finally pushed past me out onto the street.
“Your dinosaur friends are just going to get caught again,” Bastille said.
“Charles said he’d try to get them to leave in the confusion,” I said, joining her as we ran across the street. “It’s the best we can do.”
And it really was. Honestly, you have no idea how hard it is to work with dinosaurs. It’s no wonder the Librarians made up the myth about them going extinct – pretty much everyone in the Free Kingdoms wishes that one were true.
Sing set Grandpa Smedry in the passenger seat of the car, and Quentin squeezed into the backseat. Then Sing took the driver’s seat – holding the useless steering wheel as the car took off. Bastille’s silver sports car pulled up just a second later. She climbed in, but I paused. My door had no handle. Finally, Bastille opened the door by rapping on the inside dash. “The inner door handle is gone,” she said, frowning.
“That’s very strange,” I said sliding into the car. “Now, can we get going?”
She smiled, throwing the car into gear, then she slammed down on the pedal. I turned, watching out the back window. Behind us, a bunch of Librarians had finally managed to push their way out of the building. They watched in dismay as Bastille’s car squealed away.
I smiled, turning back around. “I assume you have ways of making sure that the Librarians don’t just have some of their police pick us up?”
“They don’t work that way,” Bastille said. “The Librarians keep as few people as possible informed about the true nature of the world. Most governments don’t know that they’re being manipulated. Now that we’re outside of the Librarian central base, we should have a little breathing room. Especially since we neutralized their Oculator.”
I nodded, resting back in my chair. “That’s good to hear. I think I’ve had enough sneaking, chasing, and other ridiculousness for one day.”
Bastille smiled, taking a sharp corner. “You know, Alcatraz, you’re a bit less annoying than most Smedrys.”
I smiled. “Guess I’ll just have to practice some more, then.”
Chapter 20
All right. It’s true. I lied to you.
You have undoubtedly figured out that there is no altar made of outdated encyclopedias in this book. There is no harrowing situation where I lay, strapped to said altar, about to be sacrificed. There is no dagger-wielding Librarian about to slice me open and spill my blood into the void to complete a dark ritual. No sharks, no pit of acidic magma.
That’s all in the sequel. You didn’t really think I’d be able to tell my entire story in one book, did you?
Grandpa Smedry’s car puttered along the street. It was dark out – after escaping the library, we had evacuated the gas station, then spent the night and entire next day recovering in the team’s safe house (a mock hamburger stand called Sand-burgers).
“Grandfather?” I asked as we drove.
“Yes, lad?”
“What do we do now?”
Grandpa Smedry sat for a moment, turning the wheel in random directions. He looked far better after a night’s rest – he had gained back enough strength to begin arriving late to his pain again, and now he was doling it out in very small amounts. He looked almost like his chipper old self.
“Well,” he finally said, “there is a great deal to be done. The Free Kingdoms are losing the battle against the Librarians. Most of the outright fighting is happening in Mokia right now, though the work behind the scenes in other kingdoms is just as dangerous.”
“What will happen if Mokia does fall?” I asked.
“The Librarians will fold it into their empire,” Grandpa Smedry said. “It will take a decade or two before it’s fully integrated – the Librarians will have to begin changing the history books across the entire world, making up a new history for the region.”
I nodded. “And… my parents are part of this war?”
“Very big parts,” Grandpa Smedry said. “They’re very important people.”
“So important,” I asked quietly, “that they couldn’t be bothered to raise me?”
Grandpa Smedry shook his head. “No, lad. That’s not it at all.”
“Then why?” I asked, frustrated. “What was this all about? Why leave me to the Librarians all these years?”
“It will make sense if you think about it, lad.”
“I don’t really want to think about it at the moment,” I snapped.
Grandpa Smedry smiled. “Information, Alcatraz. It was all about information. Perhaps you’ve noticed, but the rest of us don’t quite fit into your world.”
I nodded.
“You have information, lad,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Important information. You understand the lies the Librarians are teaching – and you understand their culture. That makes you important. Very important.”
“So, my parents gave me up so that they could make a spy out of me?” I asked.
“It was a very hard decision, my boy,” Grandpa Smedry said quietly. “And they did not make it lightly. But even when you were a baby, they knew you would rise to the challenge. You are a Smedry.”
“And there was no other way?” I demanded.
“I know it’s hard to understand, lad. And, truth be told, I often questioned their decision. But… well, how many people from other countries have you known who could speak your language perfectly?”
“Not many.”
“The more different a language is from your own,” Grandpa Smedry said, “the more difficult it is to sound like a native. For some languages, I’m convinced it’s impossible. The difference between our world and yours isn’t as much a matter of language as it is a matter of understanding. I can see that I don’t quite fit in here, but I can’t see why. It’s been the same for all of our operatives. We needed someone on the inside – someone who understood the way Librarians think, the way they live.”
I sat quietly for a long moment. “So,” I finally said, “why aren’t my parents here? Why did you have to come get me?”
“I can’t really answer that, Alcatraz. You know we lost track of your father some years ago, just after you were born. I kind of hoped I’d find him here, on your thirteenth birthday, come to deliver the sands himself. That obviously didn’t happen.”
“You have no idea where he is, then?”
Grandpa Smedry shook his head. “He is a good man – and a good Oculator. My instincts tell me that he’s alive, though I have no real proof of that. He must be about something important, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is!”
“And my mother?” I asked.
Grandpa Smedry didn’t reply immediately. So, I turned to a light tangent – something that had been bothering me for some time. “When I wore the Tracker’s Lenses back in the library, I was able to see your footprints for a long, long time.”
“That’s not surprising,” Grandpa Smedry said.
“And,” I said, “when you came into my house, you identified my room with the Tracker’s Lenses because you saw so many footprints leading into it. But I’d only walked out there once that day. So, the other sets of footprints must have been hours – or even days – old.”
“True,” Grandpa Smedry said.
“So,” I said, “the Tracker’s Lenses work differently for family.”
“Not differently, lad.” Grandpa Smedry said. “Family members are part of you, and so they’re a part of what you know best. Their tracks tend to hang around for a long time, no matter how little you think you know them.”
I sat quietly in my seat. “I saw Ms. Fletcher’s footprints hours after she’d made them.” I finally said.
“Not surprising.”
I closed my eyes. “Why did she and my father break up?”
“He fell in love with a Librarian, lad,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Marrying her wasn’t the wisest decision he ever made. They thought they could make it work.”
“And they were wrong?”
“Apparently,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Your father saw something in her – something that I’ve never been able to see. She isn’t exactly the most loyal of Librarians, and your father thought that would make her more lenient to our side. But… I think she’s only interested in herself. She married your father for his Talent, I’m convinced. Either way, I think that she was another reason that your father agreed to let you be raised in Librarian lands. That way, your mother could see you. He still loved her, I’m afraid. Probably still does, poor fool.”
I closed my eyes. She sold the Sands of Rashid to Blackburn. My father’s life’s work, my inheritance. And… Blackburn implied that she would sell me too. I didn’t know how to think about what I felt. For some reason, all the danger – all the threats – I’d been through during the last few days hadn’t felt as disturbing to me as the knowledge that my mother lived.
And that she was on the wrong side.
Grandpa Smedry’s car puttered to a stop. I opened my eyes, looking out the window with a frown. I recognized the street we were on. Joan and Roy Sheldon – my latest foster family, the one whose kitchen I had burned – lived just a few houses down.
“Why are we here?” I asked.
“You remember when I first gave you your Oculator’s Lenses, lad?”
“Sure.”
“I asked you a question then,” Grandpa Smedry said. “I asked you why you had burned down your family’s kitchen. You didn’t answer.”
“I thought about it, though,” I said. “I’m figuring things out. I’m getting better with my Talent.”
“Alcatraz, lad,” Grandpa Smedry said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “That question wasn’t just about your Talent. You keep asking about your parents, keep wondering why they were so willing to abandon you. Well, did you ever think to wonder why you abandoned so many families?”