The Glass Castle

by Priebe, Trisha; Jenkins, Jerry B. ;

  Kate pushed open the door to reveal a massive, hissing incinerator that flickered and snapped and belched enough smoke and heat that Avery immediately broke into a sweat and took several steps back. Stacks of old leather books with gold pages and brass clasps stood in piles awaiting their destruction.

  “Why is this happening?” Avery asked. “We’ve got to stop this.”

  Kate grabbed her arm. “We can’t. They’ll be back any minute with more.”

  “Then we need to save what’s left upstairs.”

  Avery didn’t wait for Kate’s response, but instead raced up the stairwell. She stuck her head into each door, calling for kids to come and help. She saw Kendrick in one of the rooms, and he looked stricken by the news. By the time they arrived at the library, she had recruited over a dozen, but strangely Kendrick wasn’t among them.

  “When we’re certain the adults have left to take a load downstairs,” she said, “we’ll remove as many books as possible. Don’t check titles. Move books to our quarters, and we’ll sort them later. Just don’t get caught. When I ring the bell, leave immediately. Understand? Nothing matters more than your safety!”

  Avery peeked into the library. A group of plainly dressed adults were on their way out the opposite door, balancing stacks of books up to their chins.

  She pushed open the door and the kids flooded in, grabbing books from everywhere and carrying them to the kids’ quarters.

  Avery crossed to the opposite door and peeked outside to the stairwell used by the adults. Thankfully it was made of marble, so when she heard the thunder of footsteps growing louder, she rang a handbell and the kids fled.

  They repeated this cycle for most of the afternoon, and throughout the day more kids came to help.

  In the end, hundreds of books had been rescued, which kept Avery’s mind off the thousands of others that were destroyed.

  After thanking the kids, she lingered in the empty room that had once been alive with knowledge, now empty and dark and sad.

  And then she saw something on one wall that had been swept of books: a tiny silver keyhole. Edward’s words rang in her ears.

  “My guess is they were looking for a door, some secret access….”

  “And it’s an east-facing wall,” she whispered.

  Avery pushed and pulled the bare shelf with all her strength, but it would not budge.

  She felt foolish, but she would be back. She would not give up until she learned what lay behind the door. She hoped she knew the answer.

  Avery returned to the bunk room to finish her letter to Kendrick.

  Soon, Kate came and sat on her own bed next to Avery’s.

  “You did a good thing today,” Kate said quietly, stretching out.

  Avery set down her pen, wondering if she would ever be able to finish. “I don’t understand why Angelina needed to destroy the books. If she was concerned about the mess, the old woman could have commissioned us to put the books back on the shelves. I would have done it myself.”

  Kate smiled. “I love how much you love books. It’s one of your good qualities. Leaders are readers.”

  Avery nodded. Her mother had always said the same thing.

  “The books never posed a threat to the queen,” Avery said. “I doubt she even reads.”

  “Maybe she wants the library for something else. Maybe she’s looking for the same thing you are trying to find.”

  Avery sighed.

  “Be careful,” Kate said. “When people around here get close to discovering something, strange things happen to them.”

  Avery turned back to her letter and began to write.

  The sooner she told Kendrick how she felt, the better.

  Chapter 37

  A Win

  Nothing, Avery decided, made her hungrier than speaking her mind. After folding her letter to Kendrick neatly in thirds, she slid it under her pillow and went in search of leftovers in the kitchen. Finding little, she settled for apples and chocolate.

  In her letter to Kendrick she had explained carefully that she had returned because of a growing friendship with someone in the castle. I missed him, she wrote, and even though I cannot explain it, I had to return.

  She then apologized to Kendrick—though she did not use his name, of course—that she could never think of him as more than a brother and that she was sorry if she had in any way led him to believe otherwise.

  She added a simple invitation to meet and discuss it further.

  She knew Kendrick would never take her up on a meeting.

  He still refused to look her in the eye.

  After going back for bread and cheese, Avery wandered into the storage room containing Elizabeth’s possessions, where stacks upon stacks of salvaged books now flooded the space as well. Had they not reminded her of so many more that had been destroyed, the very sight of these things of beauty would have thrilled her.

  She paged through random selections on subjects ranging from royal history to science to literature and everything in between. She decided she would create a library in the kids’ quarters and encourage her peers to study.

  She would ask Tuck to allow her to make a presentation at the next midnight court where she would tell them, “There’s no reason we can’t go to school! As long as we have books, we have teachers!”

  Maybe she would even ask the chaplain to share the verse he had read the previous Sunday. Let no man despise you because of your youth.

  The next book Avery opened made her blood turn cold.

  Inside the cover, inscribed on a wax bookplate, was the name Godfrey.

  She had a dozen such books in her play castle, so there was no mistaking it. Her father made the bookplates by hand.

  Right beneath the bookplate—in her mother’s handwriting—came the admonishment: This book must not be destroyed.

  It was an otherwise nondescript book about travel, but it had belonged to her parents and obviously had been important to her mother. How it had found its way to the castle, Avery had no idea, but she was beginning to suspect her family had deep ties to the castle. She pressed it to her heart.

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if she kept this one for her own collection.

  She needed to understand its significance.

  Chapter 38

  True Love

  Avery sent a note to the old woman via a messenger asking for a meeting.

  She could not ignore Edward’s instruction—“If you can get the old woman to talk to you, you may discover some of the castle’s deepest secrets.”

  While she waited for a reply, she spent hours slowly reading her mother’s book, carefully turning each page, wishing—hoping—for some message that might allow it all to make sense. She remembered nothing of this book or her mother saying anything about it, and nothing in the pictures and maps of faraway places brought her any closer to solving the mysteries of the castle.

  She scanned the margins for handwritten notes or secret code but found nothing.

  She stayed up reading the book until candle after candle burned itself out.

  But she wasn’t about to give up. Thick and boring as it was, she would see it through to the end.

  As she scanned the pages, she allowed her mind to wander to the days following her mother’s disappearance and the odd way her father never searched for her.

  Avery had peppered the villagers with questions, passing out handwritten flyers and asking everyone she met whether or not they recognized a painting of her mother or had seen her.

  The answer had always been the same. No.

  Her father never prohibited her from searching, but he had never helped her either.

  Her determination to find answers had resulted in endless arguments with her father that she could never win. She would harness that determination now.

  On the second night of waiting for the old woman’s reply, Avery was surprised to discover a message under her pillow. Eagerly she opened it, hoping the old woman had agreed, and was even more surprised that it was f
rom Kendrick, asking her to meet tomorrow after breakfast in the great room.

  Of course she would meet him. The sooner this was finished, the better.

  Things had grown only stranger between her and Kendrick. Each time she tried talking to him, he grew uncomfortable and walked away. He hadn’t even come to help rescue the books in the library, which made no sense seeing he loved them as much as she did. Maybe now they could talk openly and get their friendship back on track.

  In the morning, Avery dressed in the newest gown Kate had given her—an emerald dress that shimmered when she walked. She brushed her hair into a smooth knot at the base of her neck—believing it made her look more intelligent and hopefully even a tad remorseful.

  “There is usually something you can apologize for in any hurtful situation,” her mother had always encouraged her. And especially where Kendrick was involved, this was true.

  After breakfast she lingered, silently rehearsing what she would say. I want us to be friends, to be able to talk about books and castle news like we once did. We need to stick together here in these walls to save our lives. We can do that, right?

  She wished she’d told Kate about the meeting and had sought her advice.

  The hundred feet or so between the dining room and the great room felt like miles.

  I want us to befriends, to be able to talk about books and castle news.

  She rehearsed the words until she was confident they would roll off her tongue.

  When she arrived, there he stood, tall and broad shouldered, but not Kendrick.

  “Tuck?”

  Avery looked to see if Kendrick was close by. Maybe Kendrick had invited him. The two were usually inseparable. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Tuck.

  “Yes,” Tuck said. But his normal look of confidence had been replaced by uncertainty, those green eyes full of something Avery had never seen.

  As he approached, Avery realized Kendrick wasn’t coming.

  “But it was Kendrick’s handwriting,” she blurted. “I compared it to another sample.”

  Tuck laughed as red crept into his cheeks. He looked at the floor. “I can’t write.”

  An orchestra of cymbals collided in Avery’s head. “You what?”

  “Or read, actually. It’s embarrassing, but I never learned.”

  Avery shook her head, speechless.

  “I asked Kendrick to write for me. He thought the poetry was ridiculous and avoided you like the plague, but I made him write it anyway. You did receive the poetry, didn’t you? I hope he wrote what I said.”

  Avery nodded. “But I had no idea it was from you.”

  “What do you think I was trying to tell you on the watch turret when we had our picnic?”

  Avery stared, words abandoning her. She had been preoccupied that day.

  “I got your reply about being brother and sister,” Tuck continued. “That’s fine. I understand.”

  “Being friends is good,” she managed.

  “Just one question, then,” Tuck said, “since we’re friends—”

  Avery nodded again.

  “Who is it you care so much for, the one for whom you returned to the castle?”

  Avery shrugged and looked away, feeling the heat in her own face now.

  This conversation was not going as planned.

  Tuck ducked his head, forcing her to look him in the eye.

  “You believed you were writing Kendrick, so who were you talking about? Was it Edward? It would explain your conversation on the stairs and why you left.”

  A pause the length of the Salt Sea made Avery think of a thousand things she should say. But if she had learned nothing else from this entire ordeal, it was that truth mattered above all.

  “You,” she choked. She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t.

  She tried to swallow, but the room began to spin, and she couldn’t hold his knowing gaze. Neither could she fight the urge to flee.

  Avery turned and hurried away, leaving Tuck standing there alone.

  Chapter 39

  Sudden Death

  Avery and Kate were sorting items in the kids’ store the next day when a shaken girl appeared in the doorway. “The old woman is dead!”

  “What are you talking about?” Avery asked.

  “She was working downstairs and just fell over.”

  Kate dropped the glass bowl in her hands, sending shards of glass in every direction. She turned and ran for the hall, and Avery followed.

  The girl led them to one of the bunk rooms on the boys’ side where Kendrick was waiting for them. Together they knelt over a metal grate in the floor, and he cranked open the slats.

  Sure enough, the old woman lay on the floor below, eyes wide and staring.

  Adult staff gathered around the body and talked in hushed tones. Something about the situation seemed wrong, but Avery couldn’t determine what it was.

  No panic. No surprise. No sadness.

  The adults agreed they should say the woman had died of heart failure, and soon another arrived with a blanket and covered her body. The group of adults skittered away, talking quietly among themselves.

  Kendrick shut the grate.

  “Now we won’t get any more answers from her,” Avery said. “We’re on our own.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kendrick said, adjusting his glasses. “Let’s see if she receives a memorial or any mention in the news bulletin. Maybe we’ll learn more about her than we would otherwise.”

  “Do you think she died of natural causes?” Avery asked.

  “No,” Kendrick said, “but I don’t know who would have killed her or why. We should learn who would profit the most from her death. Why would someone want the old woman dead?”

  Avery couldn’t shake the thought: I requested a meeting with her. Someone didn’t want her talking to me. This is my fault.

  “She knew too much,” Kendrick continued. “Maybe she was planning to tell the truth.”

  Avery’s blood turned to ice. She changed the subject—

  “What will we do without a direct adult link in the castle? How will we know what tasks need to get done?”

  Kendrick shrugged, and for the first time since they’d met, he startled Avery by looking directly at her. For a moment, Avery couldn’t speak. Her mouth hung open, but no words came. She finally forced herself to ask a question so the situation would return to normal.

  “What could she possibly know that would jeopardize her life?”

  Kate spoke. “She knew more about the king’s first wife than anyone alive. She cared for Queen Elizabeth and the newborn heir.”

  Exactly as Edward said.

  Then she would have recognized the necklace I was wearing in the woods. She would have known it belonged to Elizabeth. Did that necklace mark me?

  Kendrick closed the grate, and in that moment the oddest thing happened. Perfectly poised Kate burst into full, body-racking sobs. Holding her stomach, she bent forward and allowed the grief to swallow her whole, hot tears coursing down her cheeks and pooling on the floor.

  Avery grabbed her arm. “Kate!”

  In a strange reversal of events, she held her friend the same way Kate had held her on the first night in the castle.

  But Kate would not be comforted. Not until Avery helped her to her bed did the crying stop, but she never offered an explanation. In one afternoon, Kate the wise young woman became Kate the sad young girl, and Avery stood guard at Kate’s bedside to watch over her.

  Once Kate was sleeping soundly, Avery pulled out her pages of handwritten notes.

  In addition to Kate’s unusual behavior, Tuck had notified the council that he wanted to interview each thirteen-year-old to see if any immediate connections surfaced with Queen Elizabeth. He wanted to be proactive at locating a possible heir among them without the kids knowing what he was doing.

  Avery suspected now, though, the interviews were unnecessary.

  With pen in hand, she added Kendrick’s eyes to her list of
mysterious castle facts:

  One is brown and the other blue.

  The old woman did not receive a memorial, nor any mention in the news bulletin. Once her body was removed from the castle, she was gone, literally and figuratively—along with any hope of knowing more of her secrets. Subsequently, the castle door to the outside world—the one she used to transport children—was bolted shut.

  Several days after her death, the king and queen again traveled on business.

  With a scout posted at the gallery door, Avery worked on the theme song for the Olympiad. She had spent several nights tossing and turning, humming and making notes.

  She was unhappy with everything she tried. Nothing seemed worthy of the event.

  Most of her creative sessions ended in a snowstorm of wasted parchment and promises to never play music again.

  Now, back at the organ, Avery took a deep breath.

  “When you face a problem,” her mother had always said, “begin with what you know.”

  And so she warmed up with something her parents had created, a simple tune they paired with whatever lyrics struck them at the time. Sometimes they used it to sing of going to sleep, at other times to sing of cleaning the house or pulling weeds in the garden. They had used the tune for every occasion since Avery was a little girl.

  She was certain the tune never belonged to the first queen because it had evolved over the years as the lyrics changed. The tune brought a smile to her, and soon she was ready to try composing again, hoping to write a song worthy of the greatest games on earth.

  When the king and queen returned, word spread through the castle that the king had an important announcement.

  A new heir on the way? Avery wondered as she made her way to a grate that overlooked the Great Hall. Will Angelina finally receive her wish? Will this put an end to the madness? Is this the moment history will be written?

  Kate was waiting at the grate when Avery arrived, her face sad and swollen. She was wearing an uncharacteristically plain black dress.

  They knelt to wait for the news.