by Chris Colfer
Conner’s head was spinning but he knew there was no time to waste. He quickly created a plan based on the tasks Mother Goose had given him. First, he had to sneak out of the airport and find a way into the city. Then he had to find the Red Lion Brewery and the lion and ask it where the portal was and how to check whether it was still closed. If the portal could be opened from the Otherworld side, then that meant it was open to the fairy-tale world, and the Grande Armée could be moments away from crossing over. His plan seemed straightforward. He packed the piece of mirror into Betsy and left the stall not wanting to waste another moment. However, his momentum came to a screeching halt as soon as he realized he wasn’t alone in the bathroom.
“Bree?” Conner said in horror. Bree was standing just outside the stall and, judging from the bewildered expression on her face, she had heard every word of his and Mother Goose’s conversation. “What are you doing in the men’s bathroom?”
“They started boarding early,” Bree said. “Mrs. Peters wanted me to check on you. When I got close to the bathroom I heard voices. I know you don’t have a cell phone so I came in to see who you were talking to—and now after saying that out loud I realize how many privacy laws I just broke.”
“How much of my conversation did you hear?” Conner asked.
“Enough,” Bree said blankly.
Conner had no idea what to say to her. “Well, thank you for coming to check on me but I’m not going home,” he said.
“I gathered,” Bree said.
“Please don’t tell Mrs. Peters where I’m going,” Conner pleaded with her. “There is someone in London I really need to meet. It’s really important.”
Bree’s face finally returned to normal. She quietly bobbed her head as she contemplated the situation. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said. “Because I’m going with you.”
Conner shook his head in disbelief. “What? You can’t go with me—you don’t even know what’s going on.”
Bree crossed her arms. “I’ve known something was going on since the plane ride to Germany. Your sister disappeared last year with almost no explanation, you knew the plots of fairy tales that hadn’t seen the light of day in two hundred years, and I just caught you somehow communicating with a woman called Mother Goose about an army invading another dimension.”
Conner closed his eyes—there was no coming back from it now.
“With all that in mind, my best guess is that you are somehow connected to the fairy-tale world, and now you have to make sure an army from the 1800s isn’t going to cross into that world and put your sister and grandmother in jeopardy. Did I miss anything?”
Bree said the whole thing in one breath without blinking. Conner was stunned. Reading all those mystery novels had paid off.
“Okay, I guess the dots aren’t that hard to connect,” Conner said. “But there’s no way you’re going with me. Do you know how much trouble you’d get into?”
Bree tipped her head back and grunted toward the ceiling. “I can live with trouble. I’ll tell you what I can’t live with—hearing one more conversation between the Book Huggers about a boy band or a fictitious relationship from a novel. I have three younger sisters—I went to Germany to escape all that and to have a European adventure. So far it seems you’re the only person who can supply that and you could probably use help so I’m going with you, like it or not.”
Conner’s mouth and eyes were wide open. It was the most excited he had ever seen Bree get.
“How are you taking all of this so well?” he asked. “Don’t you think the idea of another dimension seems insane?”
“Not at all,” Bree said. “I’m a writer, too, Conner, and the reason I write is because I’ve always believed there is more to life than most people are willing to believe. You’re just the first person to prove it to me.”
Conner recognized the excitement in her eyes; he had seen it every day in his sister’s eyes after their first trip into the Land of Stories. Now that Bree knew the truth, how could Conner tell her she couldn’t go with him?
“All right, you can come,” Conner told her. “As long as you promise never to share with another soul anything you’ve found out or anything you might see.”
Bree slowly nodded, smiling the biggest smile ever. “I promise,” she said, and Conner knew he could trust her.
“Good, now let’s sneak out of the airport,” he said.
They peered out of the men’s restroom and glanced at the gate where their principal and schoolmates stood. The five of them were impatiently waiting for Conner and Bree to return before joining the line to board the plane. Mrs. Peters scanned the lounge, trying to see where they had gone. Then she looked down at her watch and Conner and Bree took it as a cue. They held on to their luggage as tightly as they could and bolted out of the bathroom, running down the terminal before she looked up. They followed the exit signs and went into customs.
“We got this—just follow my lead,” Bree said. They got in line, keeping their heads down in case Mrs. Peters came looking for them. When it was Bree’s turn, she walked up to the customs officer in the booth and presented her passport.
“Are you here for business or pleasure?” the officer asked her.
“Pleasure,” Bree said casually. “I’ve come to visit my aunt and see a few shows in the West End.”
She was good at this deception thing. The customs officer stamped her passport and sent Bree on her way. Conner went next, confident he had nothing to worry about.
“Are you here for business or pleasure?” the officer asked him.
“Pleasure,” Conner replied. “I’ve come for the food.”
The customs officer flinched and looked up at him awkwardly. “The food?” he asked.
Bree slapped her hand against her forehead. Conner wanted to put his whole leg in his mouth. Of all the things to say, he’d picked possibly the only thing Great Britain wasn’t known for. Conner panicked, thinking fast.
“You’ve never heard of the Food?” he went on. “They’re only the greatest singing quartet of chefs-turned-tenors on the planet! They have a concert at the Buckinghamshirevilleton Coliseum. Here, let me give you one of their albums.”
Conner reached for his suitcase but the customs officer held up a hand to stop him. “Please don’t,” he said. He stamped Conner’s passport and then sent him on his way, too. Conner had never been so thankful to be perceived as just a stupid kid.
Bree was appalled by Conner’s stunt. “Buckinghamshirevilleton?” she whispered. “Are you out of your mind? How are you supposed to save another dimension when you can’t even get out of an airport?”
“Give me a break—obviously I’m under a lot of pressure!” Conner whispered back.
They made it outside the airport and looked around at the sea of cars, taxis, and buses around the pickup zone.
“How are we going to get to central London?” Bree asked. “Are we old enough to take a taxi by ourselves?”
Conner looked down the curb and saw something that gave him an idea. A large group of obnoxious American teenagers was boarding a bus. They were looked after by only one chaperone that Conner could see and she was practically pulling her hair out trying to manage. “Everyone settle down and get on the bus!” the chaperone screamed. “I have your parents’ phone numbers and I will use them!”
Conner gestured for Bree to follow him. “Keep your head down, I’ve got an idea,” he said. They both looked at the ground and joined the line of students boarding the bus. The line was moving so quickly the chaperone couldn’t keep up with checking the names on her clipboard and finally just gave up. Conner and Bree boarded the bus effortlessly and took a seat in the very back.
“All right, that was a good one,” Bree said. “It almost makes up for Buckinghamshirevilleton.”
“Thanks,” Conner said. “This should get us into the city without a hitch.”
The other teenagers aboard the bus were so busy taunting each other and taking pictures of themselves they
didn’t even notice the strangers in the back. The bus pulled away from the airport and headed into town.
“All right, I want to hear the whole story, and don’t skip any details,” Bree said to Conner.
“About what?” he asked.
“Everything I need to know before venturing out on this adventure with you,” she said. “About you, your sister, that goose lady, and this dimension we’re about to save.”
Conner didn’t know where to begin. “Okay, but it’s a long story,” he warned.
“Great,” Bree said. “Long stories are my favorite.”
Conner figured there was no use in keeping anything from her now. He told Bree his and Alex’s whole story, starting with when they were magically transported into the Land of Stories for the first time and ending with their last good-bye when the portal between the two worlds was closed.
Bree hung on every word he said. It felt so therapeutic for Conner to talk to someone about it besides his family. He was very glad Bree had insisted on coming on this new escapade of his, and as Conner knew all too well, adventures were always best when there was someone to share them with.
CHAPTER TEN
THE SOUTH BANK LION
The bus finally arrived in central London and they all went quiet as they took in the first sights of the regal city. London was a multi-cultural maze of pristine buildings and proud tradition. It was difficult to differentiate the landmarks from the non-landmarks as everything was so well kept. Every building looked a hundred years old and brand-new at the same time.
The teenagers aboard the bus pointed to the landmarks they recognized as they drove past them—Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the Tower of London, and Tower Bridge.
“This is the most proper place I’ve ever been in my life.” Conner nudged Bree. “Just being here makes me feel like I should be dressed up.”
The bus stopped in a place called Trafalgar Square, near the passengers’ hotel. The square was filled with tourists taking photos of the impressive statues and fountains in front of the National Gallery, which stretched across the back of the square like a grand backdrop. The teenagers raced off the bus to be amid the tourists outside and Conner and Bree exited with them.
Once they were on the street, the first thing Conner did was find an ATM.
“Forgive me, Bob,” Conner said as he looked down at the credit card Bob had so kindly given him. He stuck it into the machine and took out the maximum amount of pounds in the maximum amount of transactions it would allow at a time.
“That’s a lot of money—in any country,” Bree said. She covered him from any onlookers as he stuck the money in the pockets of his jacket and pants and then put the rest of it in his suitcase. “But it’s smart of you to take out a bunch of cash so no one can use your transactions to trace you. They do that to find suspects in the crime books I read.”
“Oh, I never thought about that,” he said with a shrug. “I just took out as much as I could because it was my first time using an ATM.”
The first thing Conner bought was a map from a street merchant. He opened it up and scanned the tiny print depicting the streets and attractions around them.
“There’s one!” he said happily, pointing at something on the map.
“What were you looking for?” Bree asked him.
“A library,” Conner said. “We’ll go to the library and look up where to find the Red Lion Brewery.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to look it up on the Internet with my phone?” Bree asked.
Since Conner had never had a smart phone before, he hadn’t considered this possibility. “No, I don’t trust those things,” he said. “I’d rather do it the traditional way—we’re in London after all.”
“Suit yourself,” Bree said.
They followed the map a few blocks west, to the closest library, which was tucked away in the corner of St. James’s Square. Conner and Bree walked up the front steps and pulled open its wooden doors. Conner had always found libraries intimidating and that feeling was heightened by being inside one in another country.
“Are you members?” a librarian at the front desk asked them. She glared at them over her thick-framed glasses. Conner always thought librarians could read minds and was afraid this one was going to prove his theory correct.
“No, but we’re interested in joining,” Bree said calmly. “May we have a look around?”
The librarian granted her request with a gesture for them to continue inside.
“Baggage is not allowed inside the library,” the librarian said when she saw their suitcases.
“Oh, of course,” Bree said. “May we leave them to the side here?”
She put her bag down near the front door and Conner placed Betsy beside it. The librarian permitted it with a nod and they continued inside. Conner and Bree found a table in the back of the first floor.
“I’ll be right back; I’m going to find some books,” Conner said, and disappeared into the rows of shelves. Bree sat down and made herself comfortable, looking at her phone while she waited. Conner returned twenty minutes later with a stack of heavy books.
“Look what I found,” Conner said. He showed Bree the first book in his stack.
“Breweries of Britain,” Bree read. “That’s great, Conner, but I looked up the Red Lion Brewery on my phone and apparently it was demolished in 1949.”
“You can’t trust anything the Internet says,” Conner said. He frantically flipped through the book until he found a page written about the Red Lion Brewery. “Oh no, according to this, the Red Lion Brewery was demolished in 1949.”
“Shocking,” Bree said sarcastically. “I don’t mean to be a downer but I don’t think the lion we’re looking for is around anymore.”
Conner let out a defeated sigh but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He pulled out another book from his stack, titled The Statues of London, and began flipping through it. After a couple minutes Conner started fidgeting with excitement as he read.
“Check this out,” Conner said, showing Bree the section he had just read.
The South Bank Lion
13 tons, 13 feet wide
As silly as it would be to say a statue has lived, of all the statues in London the one known as the South Bank Lion has lived many different lives. The statue was created in 1837 by W. F. Woodington, and was constructed of artificial Coade stone. The lion lived his first life as a symbol, guarding the Red Lion Brewery facing the River Thames in Lambeth, London. An intriguing aura of mystery surrounds the lion as it was one of the only sculptures in the area not severely damaged in the bombings of World War II, and when the Red Lion Brewery was eventually demolished in 1949, the lion was recovered from the demolition completely unscathed. King George VI took a liking to the lion and had him moved to Waterloo station. He spent his second life on display at the station for several years before being moved to his current resting place on Westminster Bridge in the South Bank area of central London. The remains of a secondary lion statue were also found in the demolition of the Red Lion Brewery. It was pieced back together and painted gold, and can now be seen at Twickenham Stadium.
Conner and Bree were both bubbling with excitement.
“That must be it! That’s the lion we need to find!” Bree said.
Conner looked over the map at all the bridges crossing over the River Thames. “I found Westminster Bridge!” he said. “It’s right by Big Ben and it’s walking distance from here.”
“Great,” Bree said. “Let’s go see the lion!”
The duo finished in the library just before wearing out their welcome. They collected their luggage and walked briskly through St. James’s Square and followed the map to Westminster Bridge. They passed countless statues and sculptures of lions as they went, each looking more regal and ferocious than the last one. Conner grew anxious thinking about meeting the thirteen-ton, thirteen-foot-long South Bank Lion. He hoped the lion wouldn’t be too frightening to approach—enchanted objects w
ere always unpredictable.
Westminster Bridge began at the Houses of Parliament, at the base of Big Ben, and stretched across the River Thames to just below the giant Ferris wheel known as the London Eye. The bridge was busy with hundreds of tourists and citizens alike. Multitudes of cars and red double-decker buses continuously drove across the bridge as well.
Conner and Bree reached the end of the bridge and looked across the street. In the midst of the pedestrian chaos just below the towering London Eye, they found the South Bank Lion. He was massive and pale gray and stood on top of a tall pedestal. Something about him was different from all the other lions they’d seen in the city, and Conner and Bree picked up on it as soon as they laid eyes on him. Rather than a vicious and threatening scowl on his face, the South Bank Lion had a genuinely concerned expression. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open.
“That’s got to be him,” Conner said.
“What makes you so sure?” Bree said.
“Because I make that face whenever Mother Goose tells me a secret, too,” Conner said.
Bree looked around at the crowds. “Are we supposed to walk over there and talk to him in front of all these people?” she asked.
“No, we’ll have to come back later when they’re all gone,” he said. “We might have to wait until after midnight.”
They left the bridge and got a bite to eat at a local pub. Bree insisted they have an authentic English experience and forced Conner to order fish and chips with her. After they were done eating they camped out in St. James’s Park and waited until after nightfall before returning to the bridge.
They lingered across the street from the South Bank Lion until the traffic of cars and people was almost nonexistent. Then they crossed the street and stood directly below the lion.
“Say something to him,” Bree said. She nudged Conner.
“What am I supposed to say?” he asked.
“I don’t know, aren’t you used to these kinds of things?”
“Enchanted statues in the middle of crowded cities? No, I can’t say I’m an expert,” he said.
