by Emma Otheguy
The night was warm and breezy, and Carmen noticed a tall tower gracing the skyline of Sevilla. “Player,” she asked breathlessly. “What’s that tower thing?”
Player was only too glad to play tour guide, even in the middle of a chase. “That would be La Giralda, Red. It’s one of Sevilla’s most well-known monuments. When this part of Spain was ruled by Islamic people, it was a minaret—then later, when Christian rulers took over, they used the same structure as a bell tower for the cathedral.”
Carmen was impressed. It was like an interfaith Muslim-Christian monument rolled all into one. “Looks like it’ll make a good Paperstar escape plan,” she told Player. “Scaling the tower should slow down those darts of hers.”
Luckily, La Giralda had lots of uneven spots that made good footholds for climbing, and Carmen had a head start on Paperstar. She was several stories up before she heard Paperstar’s humming creeping up below her. She looked down—it was lucky Carmen wasn’t afraid of heights—and Paperstar growled at her like an angry dog. Carmen kept climbing, but Paperstar was on her tail.
Suddenly Carmen felt a sharp tugging at her ankle, and she knew Paperstar had reached her. She shook her ankle loose, hoping to knock down Paperstar in the process—maybe climbing up this high hadn’t been such a great idea after all, but it was too late now. There was a very narrow balcony at the top of the tower, and Carmen scrambled onto the rail, balancing precariously. She wasn’t afraid; heights were a hazard of her job. She just hoped Paperstar couldn’t throw and balance at the same time. Below, the city of Sevilla twinkled, and the water of the Guadalquivir River looked black and shimmery, slinking like a snake toward the coast.
Unfortunately, Paperstar could throw and balance at the same time, and now Carmen was ducking and jumping out of the way, all while balancing on a two-inch strip of rail. She fished in her coat for something to throw back at Paperstar when her fingers grazed a piece of paper, shoved into her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at it.
Paperstar saw her look. “Give me that!” she shrieked. Five paper darts assailed Carmen, who stepped backwards on the rail like a tightrope walker to get out of their way in time. “I hate to break it to you, Black Sheep, but I’m not leaving until you tell me where you’ve got that silver lion!”
Carmen muttered into her comm-link earring as she backwards-balance-walked around La Giralda, “Talk about a white lie that got out of hand!”
“She really thinks you know where the silver lion is, huh?” Player said.
“Not a good time to talk!” Carmen replied, jumping backwards and grabbing the rail with her left hand just in time. She swung herself around and jumped back up.
Meanwhile, Paperstar was clutching the rail with all fours like a possum and scooting toward Carmen.
“Um,” Carmen said. This was a new tactic.
“That paper is mine!” Paperstar said. “You’re obviously hiding the location; I can see the writing from here!”
Something clicked. Carmen glanced down at the crumpled paper. She smoothed it out. Paperstar thought the paper contained an important clue. It did contain a clue, but all the clue told them was that the silver lion was gone, probably lost forever. It didn’t do Carmen any good to keep hanging on to it, as much as she liked having a little piece of her long-gone-almost-friend León Mondragón in her pocket.
“Hey, Paperstar,” Carmen said casually. “You want this?” She waved the document in the air.
Paperstar straightened up, inches from Carmen.
“Let’s make a trade. You tell me where VILE has the stolen silver castle, and I’ll give this clue to you.”
“Not a chance.”
“How about you tell me where VILE is keeping its headquarters in Sevilla?”
“Are you kidding me?” Paperstar’s eyes didn’t leave the document clutched in Carmen’s hand. Carmen kept moving her body and the paper around, trying to keep Paperstar’s focus.
“But you want to show your other VILE friends this clue, don’t you, Paperstar?”
“I will show them that clue!” Paperstar shouted, pouncing toward Carmen.
That was all Carmen needed to hear. Paperstar grabbed the document from her. While Paperstar roared triumphantly, Carmen lost her footing, slipped, and tumbled off the tower.
Chapter 15
THE NIGHT OWLS IN SEVILLA paid no attention to a figure that hummed and skipped through the streets. Paperstar, confident that Black Sheep had been crushed falling from the top of La Giralda, was on her way toward VILE headquarters, proudly holding the document she had snatched from Carmen. In her own not-so-humble opinion, this was her best feat yet—stealing an important clue from Black Sheep while balanced high in the air. She would be showered with praise and given all the best assignments for years to come. Paperstar beamed at the paper in front of her. She didn’t know what it meant, and of course she thought making weapons was a much better use of paper than writing things on it, but she knew the VILE faculty would be pleased. Maybe she’d go back to that vault later and get some of the extra paper for her darts. This old stuff was quality—heavy and thick.
A hundred feet above, Carmen Sandiego hung from a protrusion on the side of La Giralda, watching Paperstar’s progress. When Paperstar started to fade from sight, Carmen fastened her grappling hook to a crevice and propelled down the side of the tower. She reached the plaza below, gathered up her grappling hook, and followed the street Paperstar had taken. She knew Paperstar would be bringing the useless document to VILE’s hideout in Sevilla, where it would be scanned and sent to the faculty. This was Carmen’s one shot to find out where the VILE operatives were hiding—and where they were keeping the silver castle.
She caught up with Paperstar and shrank into the shadows, staying far enough away that Paperstar never suspected her—and neither did any passerby. Paperstar went onto smaller and narrower streets, turning every few feet. No one seemed to be awake in this part of town; the buildings on either side were dark, and their balconies were shuttered. Decorative tiles on the sides of corner buildings marked the street names, and Carmen caught whiffs of orange blossoms. If she hadn’t been in the middle of a chase, she might have enjoyed a night walk through Sevilla.
Now Paperstar skipped through an archway that opened up onto a modern plaza, crowded with parked motorcycles, sidewalk cafés, and little markets advertising different types of soda and candy in their windows. Carmen followed Paperstar across the empty plaza, then reached a busy road. Even at this hour, cars were zooming past. Carmen waited, and as soon as the light changed, she skulked after Paperstar, crossing multiple lanes of cars. Now Paperstar crossed a patch of grass and turned onto a quiet pedestrian boulevard. During the day the path was probably full of bikers and joggers and tourists, but at this hour it was nearly deserted.
“I’m tracking your location, Red—I think she’s leading you to the river!”
Sure enough, the boulevard curved around, and soon they were walking along the bank of a wide river.
“The Guadalquivir River flows from the Atlantic Ocean into Sevilla,” Player explained. “It’s important for Spanish history because ships used to come to and from America using that river.”
Interesting, Carmen thought.
“I wonder where VILE would hide around there—it’s mostly apartment buildings. You think they rented a place?”
That sounded all too law-abiding for VILE, but one way or another, Carmen would find out where they were hiding. She hadn’t let Paperstar out of her sight.
A breeze rose from the river, and the current carried along an occasional soda can or large branch. Once, a barge sailed by, blowing its horn as it reached a curve.
Ahead, a tower loomed over the boulevard. It was short and squat—the exact opposite of La Giralda—and Carmen guessed it was no more than three stories tall. It wasn’t round or square like most towers Carmen had seen around the world. Instead, this tower had many flat sides—Carmen couldn’t count how many from where she was standing. It looked
like some kind of strange sentry box in a military fortress. From the center a smaller tower rose like the second layer of a cake, and the roof was topped by a gold spire.
“What’s the building ahead of me?” Carmen asked quietly.
Player took a second to reply. “La Torre del Oro,” he said finally. “It was built in the thirteenth century—that’s even older than the Throne of Felipe—to guard the river. Hey, this is cool—the Torre del Oro is a dodecagon —it has twelve different sides.”
Carmen stopped in place. Paperstar was strolling toward the tower, even though it was clearly closed at night. She pulled something out of her pocket, hovered it on the side of the tower, and a door sprang open. Paperstar disappeared into the Torre del Oro.
“Player,” Carmen said. “I’ve found VILE’s hideout. They’re in the Torre del Oro. And I’m going to need backup.”
Chapter 16
VILE ISLAND WAS FULL of excitement. Every student and faculty member knew by now that Paperstar had successfully stolen a clue from Carmen Sandiego, and that the clue would lead them to the missing silver lion. Countess Cleo’s classes that week had focused exclusively on the Throne of Felipe, and there wasn’t anyone left on the island who didn’t know that the mahogany carving of the throne was a work of art and that the silver inlays had been made by an expert artisan in the city of Potosí. Most of all, Countess Cleo had emphasized how much money VILE was about to make. Countess Cleo made sure everyone knew that life on Vile Island would now be financed by her master plot to steal the Throne of Felipe, reunite it with its silver inlays, and sell it to the billionaire Salvador de Burgos.
Paperstar, Le Chèvre, and El Topo were on site in Sevilla, applying high-tech scanning to the document so it could be sent back to Vile Island for analysis. Paperstar admitted freely that she didn’t read Spanish, and El Topo admitted just as freely that he couldn’t read a word of the handwriting, whatever language it was. So Countess Cleo and the VILE faculty were all gathered around Dr. Saira Bellum’s multiscreened computer, eager to crack the clue.
When the image first arrived, the VILE faculty were delighted. Coach Brunt put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, Dr. Saira Bellum rubbed her hands together greedily, Countess Cleo clapped daintily, and a slow grin spread across Professor Maelstrom’s face.
Dr. Bellum immediately started copying the image onto each of her different screens, instructing one to blow up the image, another to run character-recognition technology, and a third to automatically translate. When the translation was complete, everyone leaned in and squinted.
Countess Cleo was the first to break the silence. “The silversmith describes the detailed fur on the silver lion’s back. Of course. That detail is what makes this piece so valuable.”
Coach Brunt chuckled. “That detail, honeybee, is what makes this piece of paper useless.”
Professor Maelstrom grunted with disgust. Meanwhile, Dr. Bellum clicked through to the other screens. She was undeterred by the boring writing on the document. Why would the silversmith think anyone would care about his artistic process? She cared where the money was. She zoomed out from the original image they had received from the operatives in the field, trying to get a sense of the document. Perhaps there was something written with invisible ink, or a seal that could only be read with a black light. Dr. Bellum was experienced with many types of codes and could surely crack this one.
“But wait!” Dr. Bellum exclaimed. “There’s more!” She flipped her short hair off to the side.
“That there?” Coach Brunt asked. “That’s all hat and no cattle, if you ask me.”
“One never knows.” Dr. Bellum clicked around more and applied the character-recognition software to the squiggles. Within seconds, typed words appeared above the squiggles. She copied and pasted and ran them through her translation program.
This time, no one said anything. Countess Cleo did not break the silence. In fact, Countess Cleo said, “Oh!” and fainted.
“Bless her heart!” Coach Brunt exclaimed. “She’s passed out completely. The shock of it, poor lamb.”
Dr. Bellum didn’t look away from the screen. “Vanished into thin air?” she said to herself. “How could silver vanish into thin air?”
Professor Maelstrom shouted for a student, who promptly brought a towel and cold drink for Countess Cleo. Coach Brunt fanned her face.
By the time Countess Cleo sat up, Dr. Bellum had saved the clue and put it away. No point reliving the trauma. Countess Cleo had been so certain that the silver lion would be a cinch to find—likely hidden just a few feet away from the silver castle in the same vault. Apparently, she had been very, very wrong.
Countess Cleo touched her hair and adjusted her earrings. She stood and dusted herself off, trying to look dignified. Elegant women like her should not be lying on the floor. She settled herself onto a chair and faced her colleagues. “Well, then,” she announced, “I shall discuss this with Salvador de Burgos. After all, if the silver lion doesn’t exist, it’s not as if we failed to find it for him.”
“Not sure he’ll see it that way, sweetums,” Coach Brunt said.
Countess Cleo glared at Coach Brunt. “He will accept the symbolic value of having every existing silver inlay, plus the throne, in his possession. VILE operatives have successfully broken into not one but two high-security locations to accomplish this heist on his behalf and he will pay for it!” Countess Cleo cleared her voice. It had gotten high-pitched and sounded panicky for a moment there, not at all aristocratic.
Coach Brunt glanced at her watch. “We’ve got Paperstar, Le Chèvre, and El Topo all waiting for instructions. What’s it to be?”
Professor Maelstrom stayed silent, his face cold. Dr. Bellum was already checking something else on one of her many screens. It was Countess Cleo’s call.
“We call Paperstar. It is time to reunite the silver castle with the Throne of Felipe. Tonight.”
Chapter 17
CARMEN SURVEYED THE PERIMETER of the Torre del Oro. She wasn’t sure what kind of security VILE had installed, but Paperstar had clearly used some kind of electronic card to get in. Carmen found the sensor by the door. She dug in her trench coat and pulled out a credit card. She tapped it to the sensor, which flashed back red. Carmen shrugged. It was worth a try.
She examined the lock and grabbed a hairpin from her coat, then snaked the hairpin into the old-fashioned keyhole, jiggling the lock pins. To her surprise, the lock loosened right away. She shook her head. Leave it to VILE to install an electronic system on an eight-hundred-year-old lock.
Carmen held the door and closed it softly behind her. She cocked her head to the side and listened, but heard nothing.
The ground floor of the tower was taken up by a museum of naval history. There were models of boats and seafaring instruments in glass cases, along with paintings of monarchs on the wall. Carmen was relieved to see that these monarchs had a little less chin than the Felipes.
Carmen examined a banner that hung from the ceiling—red and yellow, which were the colors of the Spanish flag, with a design of castles and lions stitched onto it. She remembered what Salvador de Burgos had said about how castles and lions represented the two different kingdoms that had come together and conquered the rest of the country—Castillo (castle) and León (lion).
Carmen stopped in place. León. It occurred to her for the first time that the silver lion had maybe meant more to León Mondragón than the other inlays because it represented his name. Maybe making it had been like stamping his signature: one of a kind. It must have killed León to give the lion away to a long-chinned monarch thousands of miles away.
Footsteps sounded above, and Carmen circled the ground floor. She found a metal door and tugged it open. Inside was a narrow staircase with hazard tape on the edge of each step. Tiptoeing for silence, Carmen climbed the stairs. After two stories, there was a landing, and she found another door, with another staircase. This one was far narrower than the first—it was surely leading into the s
econd tower, the one that was like the top of a layer cake.
At the end of the stairwell was a final door. Carmen put her ear against it and listened closely.
It took a moment for her ears to adjust, but then Carmen was able to pick up snippets of conversation. There was intermittent humming, so surely Paperstar was inside. She caught a few words.
“Yes, the castle.” It was Le Chèvre speaking, and it sounded like he was on the phone with someone. “It’ll be there before dawn—yes, well before dawn.”
Where would it be before dawn? Carmen pressed her ear closer to the door and strained to hear.
“You will alert his body men, yes?”
“And tell him to put away that annoying dog,” El Topo complained.
Carmen pulled back from the door. If they were trying to get there before dawn—Carmen sped down the narrow staircase, yanked open the door on the first landing, and closed it behind her.
“Player,” she said into her earring. “Tell Zack and Ivy to be on high alert! I’ll meet them at Salvador de Burgos’s as soon as I can!”
Carmen thought fast. There would be a lot of people at de Burgos’s house—bodyguards and security. Carmen would have to tackle them eventually. But she wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to confront Paperstar alone.
Carmen flattened herself against the stairwell, hoping to take Paperstar by surprise. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Paperstar would be carrying the silver castle when she came down those stairs, and Carmen was going to steal it back from her.
It seemed like forever, waiting in the shadowy stairwell, hearing almost nothing above her—she could make out the occasional footstep overhead, but this far away she couldn’t catch even a hint of conversation.
First came the hollow ringing of platform shoes on the metal steps. Then Carmen heard the singsong tune of Paperstar’s humming, and finally the steps grew louder, and closer. Carmen moved to the middle of the stairwell just as Paperstar threw open the door.