Secrets of the Silver Lion

by Emma Otheguy

  “THIS BERET MAKES MY HEAD ITCHY!” Zack complained.

  “Quit it, bro,” said Ivy. “We need to look like art students.” She was wearing a paint-splattered smock and black leggings.

  Carmen adjusted the sketchpad she was carrying under her arm. They were trying to blend in with the throng of history buffs and art aficionados who had surrounded the entrance to Salvador de Burgos’s mansion. The tan house blended in with the streets of Sevilla, and it was so elaborate that it was more like a small castle than a mansion.

  Two men in black suits pushed through the line.

  “I heard those are de Burgos’s personal bodyguards,” Ivy hissed. “Don’t mess with those guys!”

  Once they got in, the inside of the mansion was even more impressive than the outside. Everything was made of marble: the floor, the stairs, and the artfully sculpted pillars. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed to explore on your own—Carmen, Zack, and Ivy had to join a tour. The guide was a short man who droned on and on, explaining how the artist’s perspective affected each statue and why there were five birds on a particular tapestry. Carmen tried to look like someone who cared, but it took effort. The guide spoke in a monotone.

  They stood in front of one ceramic vase for what seemed like an eternity, and the guide’s voice was practically lulling Carmen to sleep. Her eyes were drooping when she noticed a man in a delivery uniform walking through with a hand truck. It was loaded up with a box the size of a refrigerator.

  The delivery man stumbled over the corner of the rug and lunged to catch the box before it fell. He just managed to steady it in time, but the noise interrupted the tour. Except for the guide, everyone welcomed the distraction.

  “Perdón said the delivery worker. “Just a . . . a new refrigerator for Señor Salvador!”

  The guide nodded and returned to how many brass candlesticks some Felipe or other had owned, as if nothing had happened. Carmen, however, stepped closer to Ivy.

  “What is it, Carm?” Ivy asked quietly.

  “Cover for me,” Carmen replied in a whisper. “And stall the tour until I get back. Ask about the Felipes’ chins if you have to.”

  Ivy nodded, and Carmen slipped away.

  The delivery man was now bumping the refrigerator box up a set of marble staircases on the far side of the mansion. It looked like hard going. Carmen hung back in the shadows until he was at the top of the stairs, then followed him. He wheeled the box through room after room packed with elaborate artwork before disappearing behind a wooden door. Carmen inched along the wall, then peered slowly around the corner of the doorframe.

  The room was carpeted in plush red velvet, and a portrait of Salvador de Burgos hung over an oak wood desk. Carmen examined the painting. De Burgos was short and bald, with a very straight nose and thin lips. His chin could give the Felipes a run for their droopiness.

  Bookshelves covered every available wall. There were no windows, and only one desk lamp. It was clearly some sort of study.

  Who puts a refrigerator in their study? Carmen thought.

  The man turned around suddenly, and Carmen yanked her head back. She listened for sounds, but the delivery worker was clearly frozen in place. He must have sensed her presence. “Who’s there?” he called.

  Carmen stayed silent.

  “This place is spooky,” the worker muttered to himself. Then Carmen heard the refrigerator box clang against the back of the hand truck, and the man was moving again.

  Only he didn’t come out the way he had gone in. And if Carmen remembered correctly—and she was pretty sure she did, since she always scanned rooms carefully as part of any reconnaissance—there were no other exits.

  Slooowly, Carmen peered around the door again. She watched as the man did something with his hand by one of the bookcases. There was a ping! and then suddenly the entire bookcase swung outward like a door, and bright daylight shone through.

  So that’s Salvador de Burgos’s private study! Carmen waited until the man had swung the bookcase shut behind him, then darted inside. She crossed the room in three quick steps and examined the trick bookcase. The books had titles like Treasures of the Seventeenth Century and Spanish Art for the Rich and Famous and were bound in rich brown leather and embossed in gold.

  Carmen tried pulling a book off the shelf, but it wouldn’t budge. They were real books, but someone had gone and cemented them in place somehow. She felt along the edges of the bookcase. There were grooves running in two parallel lines around the edge of the bookcase. She slid her fingernails along one of the grooves until it snagged on something. Carmen pulled back her arm.

  Hesitatingly, she reached out her arm again and put her fingernails back in the place they had been. A tiny button, no bigger than the point of a pin, was hidden in one of the grooves. Carmen pressed down and—

  Ping!

  Chapter 9

  FOUR STUNNED FACES TURNED toward Carmen. There was the deliveryman, one hand still on the refrigerator box, the two bodyguards dressed all in black, and Salvador de Burgos himself.

  Salvador de Burgos looked like he was about eighty years old; much older than when his portrait had been painted. Now he was bald, his posture was stooped, and tufts of white hair sprouted from his ears. If it hadn’t been for his silk suit and elegant red pocket square, you would have never guessed he was an extremely rich art collector.

  Carmen calculated her options. No one had moved, but she guessed she had about thirty seconds before the bodyguards decided to attack. It was too late to hide and convince everyone they were seeing things. She was standing in the middle of the doorway! So much for never entering a room without an exit plan, Carmen thought. Coach Brunt would be furious. Her only option was to run. She turned around but—

  “Petra!” cried de Burgos. “¡Qué bueno que llegaste! Come here, girl!”

  “Err,” Carmen said. “I—” Something brushed by her feet. She looked and saw a shaggy, lap-size dog with bright yellow booties on each of its feet. Carmen bent down and scooped up the dog.

  “Petra was barking,” she said in what she hoped was very convincing Spanish, “so I brought her up. She seemed lonely!”

  The bodyguards narrowed their eyes, but if Salvador de Burgos thought it was unusual that his dog had been delivered to his secret study by a complete stranger, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he grabbed Petra and kissed her face all over, laughing at the wet kisses Petra gave in return.

  “How long have you been working here?” Salvador de Burgos asked Carmen in between dog slobbers.

  That explained it. Salvador de Burgos thought Carmen was household staff. That’s how many servants he had.

  Carmen leaned casually against the side of the doorframe. “About a month, sir. I don’t usually handle the upstairs rooms, but since Petra has taken to me so well . . .” Salvador de Burgos kissed the dog even more. “¡Ay, mi amor! Do you like the nice girl? Si, yo creo que si, yes, you do.”

  Carmen took advantage of de Burgos’s distracted state and sneaked a peek at the deliveryman, who had loaded the refrigerator box off the hand truck and was making his way toward the door. Carmen cocked her head to the left, trying to see the shipping label on the box, but it was too far away.

  Carmen changed strategies. “Petra’s booties are quite impressive, were they handmade?” She stepped closer to de Burgos. Just a few more inches, and she would be able to see the shipping label.

  “¡Claro que si!” said Salvador. “Nothing but the finest calf leather for my amorcito. The leather was expertly dyed by fine artisans in the Pyrenees and fitted to size by a master tailor in Madrid. I wouldn’t dream of putting just any leather on you, would I, mi reina?”

  De Burgos was talking to the dog again.

  The deliveryman tipped his hat and left the room without saying anything. The refrigerator box was now sitting under the window, and the silent bodyguards moved in front of it. Interesting, Carmen thought. I’m betting those bodyguards aren’t guarding bodies right now—they’re more w
orried about that refrigerator box.

  Carmen cleared her throat and addressed de Burgos. “I’ve always been interested in, um, hand-dyed leather from the Pyrenees. It is after all, the finest leather. Everything in your house is the finest.”

  De Burgos finally set down Petra and looked at Carmen. “You appreciate my treasures?”

  “Oh yes!” Carmen said (which was true). “That’s the reason I wanted to get a job here. I’m an art student,” she added (this was false).

  Now Salvador de Burgos came alive. Suddenly he was sharp and alert, and Carmen remembered that before he was an old dog-loving billionaire, he had been a shrewd and ruthless businessman. He stepped closer to Carmen. “What type of art interests you, young lady?”

  “I’m interested in seventeenth-century silversmithing. It’s my longtime passion.” Pushing her luck, Carmen added, “I’ve been following the Throne of Felipe story. To think I almost had a chance to see the silver castle with my own eyes but missed it!”

  “I went,” de Burgos said, almost hungrily. “I’m a patron of the Archivo, so I had a private viewing yesterday, before the theft. The castle did not disappoint. The artistry!”

  “I heard that the castle was made with seven different molds, hand poured and detail carved.”

  “Did you know the artisan who carved the arrow worked for thirty hours uninterrupted, not sleeping or eating so as to perfectly achieve each hair of the feather?”

  Poor man, Carmen thought. “You must have seen so much amazing silversmithing in your lifetime,” she said, encouraging de Burgos to continue.

  “I have!” he replied, waving his hand around the private room. It was like a minimuseum. The walls were filled with velvet cushions, each one displaying a precious gemstone, a silver bauble, or a gold treasure. “This is where I keep the prizes of my collection. Prizes too great to be shown to anyone but my most trusted household staff.”

  The word trusted seemed to wake up de Burgos. He coughed. “How long did you say you have been working here, dear?”

  “About a month. But like I said, Petra has taken a liking to me.” As if on cue, Petra trotted up to Carmen and allowed herself to be scooped up. When Carmen petted her behind the ears, she snuggled into her arms happily. Carmen was going to buy this dog the biggest bone in Sevilla as soon as she got out.

  “Perfecto, qué bueno,”de Burgos said to himself. “Well, in that case—”

  “Señor, you were telling me about your collection? I’m very interested, of course, being an art student and all.”

  “My collection! Oh yes! This is the finest collection in the country. Or the hemisphere. Or the planet, I should think! But the Throne of Felipe—now that would be the crowning glory.”

  “The woodwork is stunning,” Carmen said, goading him on.

  De Burgos shook his head. “That’s what people don’t understand about the Throne of Felipe. There’s nothing valuable about a wooden chair, and while each of the silver inlays is lovely in its own right, the real value is in the combination. You see, long ago, our country was divided into many kingdoms, before powerful queens and kings forced the different kingdoms into submission and formed one unified Spain.”

  Carmen drew her head back. “Um, didn’t the people mind being forced into submission?”

  De Burgos made a fist. “It didn’t matter. They were weak, and the monarchs were strong.”

  “And this all has to do with the throne because . . . ?” De Burgos was starting to freak her out.

  “Each of the inlays represented one of the old kingdoms. An arrow for the Kingdom of Aragón. A castle for the Kingdom of Castilla. And a lion”—Salvador made a claw and gave a mini roar—“for the Kingdom of León. Together, they represent the power and might of the Spanish crown over all other places!” De Burgos was flat-out giddy now.

  Carmen stepped away from him. “That’s . . .” horrible, she thought. Apparently he thinks it’s terrific for kings and queens to “force people into submission.” “That’s very nice,” she finished.

  But de Burgos wasn’t done talking. He moved closer and closer to Carmen, forcing her to retreat closer and closer to the doorway. “If the throne were reunited with all three silver inlays—it would have to be all three, mind you, because two would not be nearly valuable enough—we would be talking about a priceless artifact. Priceless. Worth beyond measure! It would sell on the black market for ten times every treasure in this house combined.”

  “That’s a lot of money,” Carmen replied, holding Petra a little tighter.

  Salvador de Burgos shook his head. “Of course, I would never sell such an object on the black market. I would just want to admire the silversmithing.”

  Carmen was ready to make her exit. She put her finger to her ear as if she had just heard something. “They’re calling me downstairs! Got to go!”

  She tossed Petra into Salvador de Burgos’s open arms and ran down the stairs, hounded all the while by Petra’s mournful barks.

  Chapter 10

  THE BACKLIGHT FROM COUNTESS CLEO’S TABLET bounced off of her hoop earrings and reflected gold specks around the faculty room. Behind her were the VILE faculty—Coach Brunt, Dr. Saira Bellum, and Professor Maelstrom—standing around the screen.

  “Have you conducted the public tours I advised?” Countess Cleo asked in a commanding tone.

  A very round head nodded back at Countess Cleo. “My guides hosted three hundred visitors from the public today.” Salvador de Burgos was video conferencing the VILE faculty from his secret study, flanked by his bodyguards. The bodyguards stared straight ahead and didn’t look at the screen. If they thought it was unusual that their boss was video chatting with a covert band of thieves on an uncharted island, they didn’t show it.

  “That’ll shake ’em off the scent!” Coach Brunt said encouragingly.

  “Yes, yes,” Dr. Bellum murmured.

  “Was the public grateful for your generosity?” Professor Maelstrom asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “¡Sí, claro!” de Burgos replied. “My staff received many compliments, and the local papers have all published articles about my magnanimity in allowing the public to enjoy my treasures while they mourn the loss of the recently discovered silver castle.” Salvador de Burgos threw back his head and laughed.

  “As I always say, a little good deed goes a long way to keep the investigations away!” Countess Cleo said merrily. She had in fact never said that before, but it was obvious how true it was: if the entirety of Spain was convinced that Salvador de Burgos was a generous old man who wanted to share his love of art with the people of Sevilla, then they would hardly suspect him of an evil crime.

  “Now that I’ve shaken inquiring detectives, tell me, when will I receive mi precioso león?” He rubbed his hands together greedily.

  “You’ll receive your precious lion only for the agreed-upon price,” Countess Cleo said sternly.

  De Burgos waved his hand. “Cost isn’t an issue. Once the silver lion is in my possession, you will have your fee.”

  Countess Cleo frowned. “I hope you don’t plan to resell. I shall be very angry if I learn of the throne going for a higher price after what we have done.”

  De Burgos put his hand on his heart. “I would never sell such a treasure. Of that you can be sure. Once you have delivered the silver lion to me, I shall sit upon the Throne of Felipe!”

  Professor Maelstrom interrupted, “I believe you have the Throne of Felipe, Salvador de Burgos. Was it not received at your residence this afternoon?”

  A goofy smile spread across Salvador de Burgos’s face. He turned the camera, giving the VILE faculty a view of the inside of his secret study, filled with priceless treasures as it was. In the corner stood the large refrigerator box. De Burgos looked at it as if it were a beloved child, then turned the camera back to himself with a satisfied smirk. “Now tell me, when will the missing inlays be delivered to me?”

  With a haughty toss of her head, Countess Cleo replied, “The silver cas
tle is already in VILE possession, as you know. I should inform you that the castle was heavily secured in the Archivo, and that only a skilled VILE operative would have been able to break through these defenses.”

  “And I’m very grateful,” de Burgos said in a thoroughly unimpressed tone. “What I want to know is when the inlays will be in my possession.”

  “The same operative who secured the castle will search for the silver lion tonight.”

  Salvador de Burgos pouted. “You mean you don’t know where the lion is now?”

  Professor Maelstrom spoke very slowly, as if he were explaining something to a young child. “The lion has been missing for centuries. You cannot expect it to be found in an instant. We have hope that the lion is somewhere in the maze where the silver castle was found—but you must be patient while our operative searches the maze—it could be the work of a week! Then we will deliver the lion and the castle to you together.”

  Salvador de Burgos folded his hands. “I expect a delivery by dawn tomorrow.”

  Over the faculty’s loud protestations, de Burgos closed his laptop, and the screen in the VILE faculty lounge went black.

  Chapter 11

  CARMEN DIDN’T THINK VERY HIGHLY of the Spanish police. She picked the lock of the AGI with a hairpin in fifteen seconds flat. Whatever additional security they had put in place before the silver castle was stolen, it was gone now. Carmen walked right into the dark archive, her red trench coat fully loaded with tools.

  “No sign of guards, cameras, alarms, anything,” she said into her earring. “It’s like after the castle was stolen, they decided to give up.”

  “Hey, if VILE got that thing out of a locked glass case without breaking the lock or the glass at my archive, I’d give up too,” Player said.

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “You have to hand it to them, it was impressive.”

  Carmen shook her head. “Don’t give them any credit, Player. Evil isn’t impressive, no matter how skilled the operative.” She strode back toward the hallway with the trapdoor. It wasn’t even roped off anymore. She kicked the left corner and the trapdoor sprung open. Carmen looked down. All she saw was stair after stair, then darkness. It was like climbing into a black hole. She took a deep breath and began her descent.