Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia

“We’re trying to think of a way to stop the Librarians from conquering Mokia, Bastille,” I said. “Maybe … maybe you can help.”

She nodded absently. How were we going to involve her in helping expose the Librarian plot—and thereby get her knighthood back—if she could barely talk?

Grandpa Smedry glanced at me. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to go break some crystal swords,” I snapped.

“Not about Bastille, lad,” Grandpa said. “I can assure you we’re all in agreement about how she’s been treated. We have larger problems right now.”

I shrugged. “Grandpa, I don’t know anything about politics back in the Hushlands, let alone the politics here in Nalhalla! I have no idea what to do.”

“We can’t just sit here!” Sing said. “My people are dying as we speak. If the other Free Kingdoms remove their support, Mokia won’t have the supplies to keep fighting.”

“Maybe … maybe I could look at the treaty?” Himalaya said. “If I read it over, perhaps I would see something that you Nalhallans haven’t. Some trick the Librarians are pulling that we could show to the monarchs?”

“Excellent!” Grandpa Smedry said. “Folsom?”

“I’ll take her to the palace,” he said. “There’s a public copy there we can read.”

“Lord Smedry,” Sing said, “I think that you should speak to the kings again.”

“I’ve tried that, Sing!”

“Yes,” the Mokian said, “but maybe you could address them formally in session. Maybe … I don’t know, maybe that will embarrass them in front of the crowds.”

Grandpa Smedry frowned. “Well, yes. I’d rather do a daring infiltration though!”

“There … aren’t many places to infiltrate,” Sing said. “The entire city is friendly toward us.”

“Except that Librarian embassy,” Grandpa Smedry said, eyes twinkling.

We sat for a moment, then glanced at Bastille. She was supposed to be the voice of reason, telling us to avoid doing things that were … well, stupid.

She just stared forward though, stunned from what had been done to her.

“Blast,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Somebody tell me that infiltrating the embassy is a terrible idea!”

“It’s a terrible idea,” I said. “I don’t know why though.”

“Because there’s not likely to be anything of use there!” Grandpa Smedry said. “They’re too clever for that. If anything, they have a secret base somewhere in the city. That’s where we’d need to infiltrate, but we don’t have time to find it! Somebody tell me that I should just go speak to the kings again.”

“Uh,” Sing said, “didn’t I just do that?”

“I need to hear it again, Sing,” Grandpa Smedry said. “I’m old and stubborn!”

“Then really, you should speak to the kings.”

“Spoilsport,” Grandpa Smedry muttered under his breath.

I sat back, thinking. Grandpa Smedry was right—there probably was a secret Librarian lair in the city. My bet was that we’d find it somewhere near where my mother vanished when I was trailing her.

“What are the Royal Archives?” I asked.

“They’re not a library,” Folsom said quickly.

“Yes, the sign said that,” I replied. “But if they aren’t a library, what are they?” (I mean, telling me what something isn’t really wasn’t all that useful. I could put out a blorgadet and hang a sign on it that said “Most certainly not a hippopotamus” and it wouldn’t help. I’d also be lying, since “blorgadet” is actually Mokian for hippopotamus.)

Grandpa Smedry turned toward me. “The Royal Archives—”

“Not a library,” Sing added.

“—are a repository for the kingdom’s most important texts and scrolls.”

“That, uh, sounds an awful lot like a library,” I said.

“But it’s not,” Folsom said. “Didn’t you hear?”

“Right…” I said. “Well, a repository for books—”

“Which is in no way a library,” Grandpa Smedry said.

“—sounds like exactly the sort of place the Librarians would be interested in.” I frowned in thought. “Are there books in the Forgotten Language in there?”

“I’d guess some,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Never been in there myself.”

“You haven’t?” I asked, shocked.

“Too much like a library,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Even if it isn’t one.”

You Hushlanders may be confused by statements like this. After all, Grandpa Smedry, Sing, and Folsom have all been presented as very literate fellows. They’re academics—quite knowledgeable about what they do. How then have they avoided libraries and reading?

The answer is that they haven’t avoided reading. They love books. However, to them books are a little like teenage boys: Whenever they start congregating, they make trouble.

“The Royal Archives,” I said, then quickly added, “and I know it’s not a library. Whatever it is, that’s where my mother was going. I’m sure of it. She has the Translator’s Lenses; she’s trying to find something in there. Something important.”

“Alcatraz, the place is very well guarded,” Grandpa Smedry said. “I doubt even Shasta would be able to sneak in unseen.”

“I still think we should visit,” I said. “We can look and see if there’s anything suspicious going on.”