Secrets of the Silver Lion

by Emma Otheguy

  She watched as it sailed through the sky and descended—right on top of Carmen’s fedora.

  “Good aim,” Zack called from the driver’s seat.

  And it worked like a charm. Carmen looked down, and Zack and Ivy waved their arms wildly. Carmen unfurled her glider backpack and leaped away from Paperstar, landing on the top of the bus. She army-crawled over to the window and leaned inside.

  “Nice getaway vehicle, Zack.”

  Chapter 3

  THE NEXT MORNING, THE SPOT where Zack had blocked off the entrance to the museum was now taken up by a police car. In fact, the whole neighborhood was swarming with police cars. Cops in uniform were taking statements from people on the street, and a TV news crew had just pulled up in front of the museum. Everyone was talking about the mysterious disappearance of the Throne of Felipe.

  “These thieves were smooth,” a news anchor was saying into a microphone. “Detectives have been searching the premises since early morning, but the robbers split without a trace.”

  “I practically handed the throne to them,” Carmen grumbled. “I guess we better see if anyone in the museum knows anything.”

  The museum had a complicated security line after the theft yesterday, but eventually they made their way into the museum and back to the long, narrow hallway, now brightly lit and crowded with people gawking at the scene of the crime. The spot where the throne had been was roped off with police tape. Carmen made her way to the front of the crowd while Zack and Ivy fanned out to look for evidence.

  The area where the base of the throne had sat was a slightly different color from the rest of the floor and left a perfect outline of where the throne should be. To Carmen, it looked like the last piece of a puzzle, waiting to be added. She sighed sadly. She had been so close to stopping VILE. Now the throne was probably being sold to other criminals, and Countess Cleo was probably shopping for rubies and diamond earrings.

  Someone sighed to Carmen’s left, echoing her sadness. Carmen looked up and saw a woman with long black hair. There was a name tag pinned to her blouse. She looked miserable.

  “Do you work here”—Carmen stopped to take another look at the woman’s name tag—“Milagros?”

  Milagros gave Carmen a small smile. “You can call me Milly,” she said kindly. “And yes, I’m a curator here. I help plan the exhibits. Although right now I don’t really know what I am—I’ve been working on this throne for years. Now it’s gone.” She looked like she might cry.

  “You don’t have any idea who could have stolen it?” Carmen asked eagerly.

  “None at all. Of course, the throne had been getting attention last week . . .”

  Carmen nodded knowingly. She had been following the news since last Tuesday, when it was announced that one of the missing inlays from the base of the throne had been discovered in Sevilla, Spain. The silver castle, the shape meant to be placed just to the left of the arrow, had been found in a secret vault. A researcher had been exploring the Archivo General de Indias, an enormous library of old documents in Sevilla, when she stumbled upon a trapdoor that led down to a maze of tunnels below the city. No one had set foot in the tunnels for centuries, until this researcher found the trapdoor, and the vault with the missing silver castle.

  “The throne on its own is valuable,” Milly continued, “because mahogany is expensive wood. And of course silver is costly too. But it’s the two together that are the real prize for criminals, I think. The throne reunited with its silver inlays would fetch an astronomical sum on the black market. Someone must have heard about them on the news last week—and decided to come steal the throne.”

  And I know who that someone is, Carmen thought.

  Milly stared ahead at the spot where the throne had been. She blinked several times. Hesitantly, Carmen put her hand on Milly’s shoulder. “This throne must have meant a lot to you.”

  “Oh, it’s been a fascinating project,” Milly said. “The details on the silver arrow were incredible. Some of the finest artistry I’ve ever seen in silverwork. Even after all these centuries, it’s still perfect. You look at the silver arrow and you can almost imagine that it’s a real feather on the end.”

  Carmen felt a rush of affection for Milly. She had thought the exact same thing when she saw the arrow last night. It had been remarkable. There was hardly any time with Paperstar on her tail, but now that it was stolen, she wished she had taken more time to appreciate it.

  “The silver castle was supposed to be delivered here from Spain next week,” Milly went on, “so that we could attach it to its spot on the base of the throne. I was so looking forward to seeing it.”

  Suddenly Carmen had a thought that filled her with dread. “Milly!” she said sharply. “Has anyone contacted the people in Spain? If the throne was stolen because of the silver arrow, I can’t imagine the same people aren’t after the silver castle.”

  Milly’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t think—I thought for sure it was a local thief, just someone from New York—”

  And I know for sure it was a band of international criminals, Carmen thought. “This theft was a complicated job,” she said. “I wouldn’t rule it out. You said it yourself, it’s the two together that would be the real prize. Do you know the people who have the castle? Can you get in touch with them and put them on high alert?” Mentally, Carmen was already trying to calculate when the next flight to Spain would be. She couldn’t let the silver castle be stolen along with the throne.

  “I could,” Milly said. “It’s on display at the Archivo until next week, when it was supposed to be sent here. I have to go contact them.” Looking frantic, Milly started to walk away, then broke into a run.

  Carmen was left standing alone, surrounded by people speculating about the theft.

  “Maybe they broke in through a window,” said a woman in high heels.

  “Or they disguised themselves as movers,” suggested another.

  Carmen shook her head. These theories were getting wilder and wilder. She wondered if the throne had gotten this much interest before it was stolen. She pushed through the crowd and headed toward the door. She needed to touch base with Player and get herself to Spain.

  Just as she was reaching the exit, someone tapped on her shoulder. It was Milly. She was out of breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Milly said. “I made the call. They’ve put everyone on high alert and are adding additional security. But I meant to ask, I didn’t get your name. You’ve been . . . very kind.”

  “It’s Carmen.” She held out her hand, and they shook. “I actually . . . I meant to tell you, I did see the throne before.” Carmen didn’t mention when she had seen it. “It was beautiful. I thought the same thing as you, that the feather at the end of the arrow looked almost real. I’m sorry it was stolen.”

  “I am too. But I’m glad you appreciated it for what it was worth. And glad you gave me the idea to contact people in Spain—maybe we can save at least one part of the throne.”

  “Or get it back,” Carmen said.

  “Dare I hope?” Then Milly asked, “Have you eaten? I’m headed to my lunch break.”

  Zack appeared as if out of nowhere. “Did someone say lunch? Because I’m famished!” On cue, his stomach rumbled loudly.

  “Knock it off, bro,” Ivy said, coming up behind Zack. “Carmen’s having a conversation here.”

  Milly laughed. “Are these your friends?” she asked Carmen. “Well, everyone’s invited. Lunch is on me.”

  Chapter 4

  “IT SURE IS NICE TO GET AWAY from that scene,” Zack said as Milly led them down the steps of the terrace and away from the museum. “It was packed in there. So many reporters!”

  There were fewer reporters on Broadway, but it could hardly be called quiet either. Shoppers went in and out of the stores, wheeling metal hand carts in front of them. Commuters rushed to the bright green posts that marked the subway entrance, then disappeared down the stairwells. People checked their phones at the bus stop or leaned over the curb,
scanning the street anxiously for the next bus. Music and good smells blasted out of restaurants.

  The group turned onto 155th Street and passed a corner bodega where a man stuck his head out to wave to Milly. A woman pushing a baby stroller approached them from down the street.

  “¿Qué tal?” asked the woman, kissing Milly’s cheek as they drew closer.

  “Well, not great,” Milly replied. The woman shook her head sympathetically, and Milly pointed to Carmen, Zack, and Ivy. “But I have some new friends to take to lunch today.”

  “You’re in for a treat,” the woman said with a wink, before continuing down the street with her baby carriage.

  “Milly, do you know everyone in this neighborhood?” Ivy asked incredulously. “It’s like you’re a celebrity!”

  “Not quite a celebrity,” Milly said, “but I do know a lot of people. My dad was the super for several buildings in this neighborhood when I was growing up. You get to know a lot of people when you’re responsible for an entire building, and my dad always took us kids along with him when he went to work on an apartment. By the time I was ten, I think I knew my whole block, although I don’t know about the whole neighborhood.”

  Milly led them into a small restaurant about halfway down the street, where they grabbed a corner table while Milly went to order at the counter. She came back with plates loaded with rice, red beans, plantains, and pork.

  “You can get the best Dominican food in town here,” Milly said, sliding the plates across the table. Carmen, Zack, and Ivy didn’t need telling twice—Carmen realized as soon as she smelled the food that she was hungry after her exhausting and unsuccessful adventure last night.

  “It’s pretty cool that you get to work in the same neighborhood where you grew up,” Carmen said after a few bites, hoping to steer the conversation back to the stolen throne.

  Milly nodded. “You could say I’ve been working on the Throne of Felipe since I was a kid. My father used to bring me to see it all the time, you see.”

  Ivy whistled. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Growing up in New York City has its advantages. Whenever my dad had a free afternoon, we would pop into the museum and just stand in front of the throne. We would admire the carpentry, the way the mahogany shone, the details of the silverwork on the arrow. We would play a game where we came up with theories about what happened to the missing castle and lion—like maybe they were stolen by pirates, or maybe they were hidden beneath the seat cushion and no one had bothered to check for hundreds of years. You never know.” Milly seemed to cheer up, remembering good times with her dad.

  “I bet your dad was pretty excited when they found the missing castle last week!” Zack said.

  Milly picked at her rice. “Actually, my dad passed away last year. He would have been thrilled.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carmen said. “It must make you sad that he couldn’t be here to find out.”

  “Just yesterday I had gotten the green light to loan the throne, with the missing silver castle attached, to a special exhibit in Bolivia—I think that would have meant a lot to my dad.”

  Zack scarfed down a forkful of plantains. “Wait a second. I thought you said your dad liked to visit the throne at the museum. Why would he want it to go to Bolivia—that’s all the way in South America!”

  Milly laughed. “My dad was from Bolivia. This neighborhood, Washington Heights, is home to many Latino immigrants like my dad. And in a way, the throne is also Bolivian.”

  “I thought it was commissioned by the king of Spain?” Ivy asked.

  “It was,” Milly said. “But the silver arrow, castle, and lion weren’t made in Spain. The chair was made by carpenters for Felipe’s Spanish palace, with precise specifications about where the three silver inlays would go. But the silver shapes themselves were made by expert silversmiths in the city of Potosí, in Bolivia. It’s high up in the Andes Mountains.”

  “We know about the Andes,” Zack said. “And the elevation up there! Once we were in Ecuador for a caper—”

  Ivy elbowed Zack hard, and he stopped midsentence. “A caper and a tuna!” Ivy finished for him. “Tuna is very big in Ecuador.”

  Luckily Milly didn’t seem to notice. “The air is so thin in the Andean highlands that it’s easy to get sick if you’re not careful,” she said. “Especially if you’re used to life at sea level. Although I’m a little jealous that the three of you have gotten to visit the Andes. I’ve never been, even though it’s my father’s homeland. This special exhibit was going to be the first time I got to go.”

  “And now VILE ruined everything,” Carmen muttered under her breath.

  Milly sighed again. “My dad used to say that the throne represented our family. See, my mom is Spanish and my dad is Bolivian—just like parts of the throne were made in Spain, but parts were made in Bolivia. Come to think of it,” Milly added, “the lumber for the throne probably came from trees in the Caribbean—which is where a lot of our neighbors in Washington Heights are from. So it really did represent us.” She looked at the three faces across the table from her. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you all this. Where are you all from?”

  “Boston,” Zack said proudly, tipping his Red Sox cap and pointing to Ivy and himself.

  “I don’t know where I’m from,” Carmen said hesitantly. “I’m an orphan, technically.” She struggled for words to explain without giving away too much of her identity. “My adoptive—well—my adoptive family”—she nearly choked out the word, since the VILE faculty could hardly be considered family—“they found me near Buenos Aires, Argentina, when I was a baby. But I’ve never been there, and I don’t know anything about my life before I was adopted.”

  Milly’s face was filled with sympathy. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like? To go to this place—this place you’ve heard of but have never been? I’ve dreamed about Bolivia since I was a kid, and ever since I could read, I’ve learned as much about it as I could. My dad always talked about it, but we could never afford to go—it’s such a long flight—now with the museum paying for my trip, it was going to be my first chance.”

  Carmen nodded slowly. She understood what Milly meant. She tried not to think too much about where she came from, because she wanted to focus on fighting VILE and stopping their evil crimes. But sometimes thoughts about her mysterious origins crept up on her. Like now.

  “It’s not fair that you missed your chance to go there,” Carmen said. “To really find out where you come from.”

  “I’ve been telling myself all week that it would be like a little piece of my dad got to go home. It made me happy—thinking that those silver shapes were going back to where they came from, and I was going back to where my dad came from.”

  As Milly spoke, Carmen felt angrier and angrier at VILE. Not only had they made it impossible for her to know where she really came from, now they had made it impossible for Milly to get to know the place where her dad’s family was from. “Milly, we’re getting you that throne back,” Carmen said through gritted teeth. “You can count on it.”

  Chapter 5

  PAPERSTAR SKIPPED INTO THE FACULTY ROOM and curtsied cutely in front of the table. She had been reprimanded by VILE faculty in this room more than once, but today they were singing her praises. The throne she had successfully stolen (with a little help from Le Chèvre and El Topo) had been positioned behind the faculty table. Countess Cleo was now settled comfortably in it.

  “Good work, champ,” Coach Brunt congratulated her.

  “I must say, this chair suits me well,” said Countess Cleo, crossing her ankles and folding her hands.

  “Ha! ‘Chair’!” Coach Brunt laughed heartily at Countess Cleo’s joke.

  “Don’t get too comfortable there,” Professor Maelstrom said. “We are planning to sell it, aren’t we?”

  Countess Cleo tsked. “How could you ask, when I was the one who found you a buyer? The Spanish billionaire Salvador de Burgos has offered to pay a small fortune for the
throne and the three silver inlays. He thinks it will look just stunning in the private study of his mansion in Sevilla.”

  “Might I point out a flaw in your otherwise airtight plan?” Professor Maelstrom said condescendingly. “We only have one inlay.”

  “The silver castle will be easy to steal,” Countess Cleo said. “You’ve seen the news. They found that vault beneath the Archivo General de Indias and the castle was just sitting there. And the fools put it on display. So that the public could ‘enjoy it.’ Just asking for someone to walk in and take it.”

  Professor Maelstrom was unimpressed. “That’s only two out of three.”

  Countess Cleo picked a spot of fuzz off of her cashmere shawl. “Dr. Bellum?”

  Dr. Bellum tapped the screen in front of her. “I’ve secured high-definition security footage from the vault in Sevilla where the silver castle was found!”

  “Yes, but do any of those videos you’ve wasted days hacking tell us anything about the silver lion,” Professor Maelstrom replied, “which is the rather glaring flaw in this mission?”

  Dr. Bellum pinched the screen, zooming out to an overview of the tunnel system. “The tunnels are vast and full of vaults and hidey-holes. If the castle was in one vault, we have every reason to believe the lion will be somewhere down there too, and not far from where the castle was found.”

  Paperstar hummed a little tune to herself. Meetings bored her. She just wanted to fold paper and stop Carmen, which were the two things she did best, in her own opinion.

  “If the lion is really in that maze, I’ll be shopping for a solid gold watch by Monday.” Professor Maelstrom finally cracked a smile.

  “If we steal the silver castle and find the silver lion, that lump of wood is basically priceless,” Coach Brunt agreed, nodding toward Countess Cleo and the throne.