by Chris Colfer
The train’s speed gradually increased and soon they were zooming through the English countryside on their way to Paris. Conner found a pamphlet in their compartment and looked at the map on the back of it—it was exactly like the map in the station.
“So once we reach Paris we’ll switch trains and head to Monte Carlo,” Conner said.
Pearl looked away from the window for a second to tell them, “Ich liebe Monte Carlo!”
“I guess she likes Monte Carlo,” Bree translated.
“Okay,” Conner said cautiously, and then continued with his plan. “Then, once we reach Monte Carlo we’ll try to find the Lumière des Etoiles casino and see if my chip means something to anyone there,” he said.
Pearl turned to them again only to say, “Ich liebe das Lumière des Etoiles!” Apparently she was a big fan of the casino as well.
“Why are we going to a casino when we should be trying to find a bank?” Bree asked.
“Mother Goose said the poker chip would come in handy,” he explained. “When she gave it to me she said that if I was ever in Monte Carlo I should take it to the roulette table in the northwest corner and bet it on the black. It made no sense to me at the time, but now I think we’ll find something there that will help us. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
The train went dark as it swooped under the English Channel and the next time they saw light they were in the French countryside. France was only a couple hours from England, but once the train began decelerating into Paris they felt they had entered a completely different world. Paris made Conner and Bree feel like they were living in a painting. Every building was beautifully detailed, like it had been hand sculpted. Many were tall and narrow with iron railings at each of their multiple windows. Soon the train arrived at the Paris station, Gare du Nord.
Conner and Bree helped Pearl off the train and pushed her through the crowded station.
“We need to exchange our pounds for euros,” Bree told Conner. “We won’t be able to buy tickets to Monte Carlo until we do.”
They found a currency-exchange station and traded in all the pounds they had left. They proceeded to the ticketing counter to purchase tickets for the next train to Monte Carlo and once again pretended Pearl was their grandmother to avoid any suspicion.
“Would you like a first-class or an economy compartment, monsieur?” the Frenchwoman at the counter asked.
“Economy is fine if it’s available,” Conner said.
“Don’t go cheap on me now, Bailey,” Bree said.
“Fine, first class, please.” Conner griped, “I’m gonna be so grounded when I get home.”
Within the hour, Conner, Bree, and Granny Pearl were aboard another train enjoying another first-class cabin. It was a very long and bumpy ride and all three of them slept as much as they could. The train stopped in five or six cities along the way, and about six hours had passed by the time they reached the Monte Carlo station.
They gathered their luggage and Granny Pearl, and headed for the exit. They stepped outside the station and Conner and Bree caught their first sight of Monte Carlo.
The city was gorgeous. A cluster of colorful hotels, resorts, and residences grew down the Monégasque hills and stretched along the ocean side. The salty smell of the ocean was all around them. A bay a little ways along the shoreline was home to hundreds of boats and yachts that bobbed in the bluest water Conner had ever seen.
“So this is where postcards come from,” he said in awe.
It was almost impossible not to enjoy the refreshing breeze and the warm rays of the golden setting sun. Pearl hummed a cheerful tune as they pushed her along the paradisiacal city.
They wandered aimlessly through the streets looking for a directory or a sign that pointed toward the Lumière des Etoiles casino. However, they soon realized the whole city was made up of casinos.
“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Bree said.
“Why don’t you look it up on your phone?” Conner asked.
“I would but my battery died in Paris,” she said.
Just when they thought their luck had run out, Pearl tugged at Conner’s sleeve and pointed to a building at the end of the street.
“Das Lumière des Etoiles casino!” she said excitedly.
Bree and Conner were so happy they wanted to hug her, but since they still didn’t even know her name they thought that might be too forward and just hugged each other instead.
“Granny Pearl, you’re amazing!” Conner said as they pushed her toward the casino.
The Lumière des Etoiles casino was an enormous building with tall columns and was topped by a vast glass dome. If it wasn’t for the electric sign blinking its name, Conner would have thought it was an old town hall that had been painted a sandy yellow to match the rest of the city.
Conner and Bree had difficulty pushing Pearl’s wheelchair up the steps but they managed and then hustled inside. The casino had green marble floors and golden pillars lining the walls. A massive chandelier hung from the dome above and illuminated the sea of slot machines and card tables.
There wasn’t a single guest at the casino who was under the age of eighty. Everywhere they looked they saw wheelchairs, walkers, and white hair. Grandmas showed other grandmas pictures of their grandchildren before taking each other’s money. Old men showed off faded tattoos they had mistakenly gotten when they were younger. It was like they had stepped into a room full of Pearls.
“No wonder Mother Goose and Pearl like this casino so much,” Conner said. “I feel like we’ve found their natural habitat.”
They propped Pearl up in front of a slot machine and gave her a handful of coins to keep her busy. Just as Mother Goose had described, there was a roulette table in the northwest corner. It was the only table in the casino that was completely empty. Conner and Bree walked through the crowd of senior citizens, receiving the strangest looks from them as they did—they stood out like sore thumbs.
They got to the roulette table and Conner reached into his pocket for the poker chip. The roulette dealer wore a white button-down shirt with a black vest and bow tie. He put his hand up to stop them before they said a word.
“Sincerest apologies, mademoiselle and monsieur, but this table is reserved for special chips only,” the dealer said. “And I do not believe either of you are old enough to be in this casino, anyway.”
Conner showed him the blue poker chip. The dealer’s eyes lit up.
“We didn’t come here to gamble,” Conner said. “But I would like to bet this on the black.”
It must have been code for something because the dealer dropped his hand and raised an eyebrow at the teenagers. He looked at them shrewdly.
“I see,” he said. “One moment, please.” He picked up the receiver of a telephone under the roulette table. “Monsieur, nous avons quelqu’un avec un jeton noir,” he said in French to whoever was on the other end of the phone, and then promptly hung up. “The manager will be with you shortly.”
Conner and Bree didn’t know whether this was good news or bad. Had the chip actually led them to something useful or were they just going to be escorted out of the casino by the manager?
A moment later the manager of the Lumière des Etoiles casino met them at the roulette table. He was a tall, burly man with a thick black mustache. He wore a sharp suit and straightened his tie as he greeted them.
“Bonjour,” the manager said. “I believe I can be of some assistance?”
Conner showed him the poker chip. “Yes, this belongs to our grandmother,” he said, and gestured to Pearl over at the slot machine. Pearl had proven to be a great cover thus far so Conner figured she couldn’t hurt them here.
“May I?” the manager asked, and opened a hand. Conner handed the chip to him and the manager pulled a magnifying glass out of his lapel and examined the ridges of the side of the chip. “Very well, please follow me,” he said, walking away from the roulette table.
Conner and Bree exchanged looks, each
wanting the other to go first. Finally Conner followed the manager, with Bree right at his heels.
The manager led them through the casino and into an elevator, politely holding the door open. The elevator had a button for each of the building’s five floors above them, but once the doors shut the manager pressed several at once, as if he were entering a secret code. When he was finished, the elevator took Conner and Bree by surprise—it started traveling down to an unmarked level.
“Are you enjoying Monte Carlo?” the manager asked casually as the elevator descended.
“Yup,” Conner peeped nervously, terrified of where they might be going.
Finally the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. “Right this way,” the manager said, and escorted them out of the elevator.
To their amazement, Conner and Bree found themselves at the top level of a gigantic underground courtyard. It was like they were looking at a four-story cell block beneath them, but instead of prison cells the walls were lined with rows of vaults.
“So this is where her vault is!” Conner said.
“This isn’t really a casino, it’s a secret bank,” Bree said.
“Oh no, it’s still one of Monte Carlo’s finest casinos,” the manager reassured them. “But before it was a casino it was one of the world’s greatest private storage facilities for hundreds of years. The building was bought in the early 1900s on the condition that it remain a working storage facility. The vaults are not rented or leased but purchased in perpetuity, like cemetery plots.”
“So there are things inside these vaults that will never be seen again?” Conner asked.
“Usually the vaults and their possessions are inherited, but occasionally we have clients who pass on before naming a benefactor,” the manager explained.
“And those people’s valuables will just be locked away for the rest of time?”
“Yes,” the manager said. “But typically when people lock away something in an underground vault, it’s because they don’t wish to share it with the world.”
Conner and Bree gulped in unison. The thought of what might be behind some of those metal doors gave them the chills.
“Now, please follow me and I’ll show you to your grandmother’s vault,” the manager said.
They followed him down two flights of stairs to the third-highest level.
“Here we are, vault 317,” the manager said and stood to the side of the vault door.
“Wait, how do you know for sure this is our vault?” Conner asked.
“Each chip contains a small number on its side, and I examined yours before bringing you down here,” the manager explained. “Each chip also acts as a key. The sides are not ridged like normal chips but have several unique grooves and dents. When you place the correct chip into the center of a vault’s lock and spin the handles, the vault will open. Place the incorrect chip into a lock and the chip will be destroyed when you spin the handles.”
“But how do you know that we’re the proper beneficiaries?” Bree asked. “How do you know we didn’t steal the chip?”
“That is not a problem,” the manager told her. “According to the three-hundred-year-old policy, whoever is in possession of the chip is the rightful beneficiary. We give one chip to each client. If it breaks or gets lost or is stolen, that is not our issue. We avoid many lawsuits and robberies that way.”
Conner and Bree nodded their understanding. This was a very strange and serious storage facility; it wasn’t a shock that Mother Goose had business here.
“Now please enjoy your time with whatever your vault possesses,” the manager said. “It is also policy that I leave the room before you open it, to uphold our guarantee of the absolute privacy of your possessions. Please wait until I have entered the elevator before opening the vault. When you have finished with your possessions, please take the elevator to the main floor.”
He spoke so casually even though there was nothing casual about this place. The manager walked off in the direction they had come from. He climbed up the stairs and disappeared into the elevator.
“This place is intense,” Conner said.
“This place is awesome,” Bree said. “Think about what might be in these vaults—think about who might be in these vaults!”
It dawned on Conner that what most people found frightening, Bree found intriguing. And knowing this about her both frightened and intrigued him.
“Fingers crossed this works,” Conner said. He put the chip into the vault’s lock. He spun the handles around the lock and the door opened with a pop. A gust of air carrying mixed scents came with it. Both of his hands were on the handles but he didn’t pull the door fully open.
“What are you waiting for?” Bree asked.
“I just thought about all the potentially amazing and horrible things that might be waiting for us inside,” he said.
“I know,” Bree said. “Too bad my phone is dead; otherwise I’d take pictures.”
Conner grunted as he pulled the heavy door open. He and Bree stepped inside the vault and looked around in astonishment at the treasures Mother Goose had acquired over the centuries.
It looked like they were in the storage room of a museum. There were large Egyptian busts, small Fabergé eggs, hundreds of rolled-up scrolls, portraits, canvases, dinosaur bones, clay pots and pans, and even a giant machine gun from World War II.
Conner and Bree began searching through the items. Some of them were so outrageous they completely forgot what they were looking for. Mother Goose had labeled many of the objects and they had a difficult time believing in their accuracy. A pair of wooden dentures had a note pinned to it that said “George Washington’s teeth.” A large rolled-up scroll was tagged “Map to Atlantis.” A small envelope containing a telegram said “Amelia Earhart’s Forwarding Address.”
Bree’s eyes were practically bulging out of her head when she read the tag on a small goblet. “You don’t think this is actually the Holy Grail, do you?” she said, and raised the cup to show Conner.
“Probably not,” Conner said.
Bree sighed with relief and tossed the cup aside. She unrolled a portrait and laughed. “Then this painting labeled ‘The original Mona Lisa’ with a note from Leonardo da Vinci probably isn’t real, either,” she said, showing it to him.
“Um… that one might be legit,” Conner said, remembering Mother Goose’s da Vinci stories.
Bree suddenly looked like she was holding an explosive in her hands and gently put it back where she found it. Conner was getting distracted by all the things he was finding. He had to keep reminding himself what they were there for.
“I wish Mother Goose wasn’t such a hoarder. It’d be so much easier finding the panpipe if she had learned to recycle,” Conner said. He pushed a stack of ancient maps out of the way and then leaped with excitement when he found a small wooden panpipe hiding underneath them.
“Bree! Get over here and look at this!” Conner yelled. “I found it! I found it!”
“You’re amazing!” Bree said, and hugged him tightly. “Does it say what notes need to be played to access the portal?”
Conner inspected the panpipe and found a series of letters carved into the largest cylinder. “It says ‘G-E-F-C, C-E-G-F,’ ” he said. “I’m assuming those are musical notes or maybe it’s how you spell a sneeze.”
“This is terrific! Now all we have to do is get to Neuschwanstein Castle and find the portal!” Bree said.
She was so excited she kissed his cheek and then hurried out of the vault. Conner turned bright red and almost passed out. She made him feel like the most special thing in the room of treasures.
Bree poked her head back into the vault. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Yeah, sorry, be right there!” Conner collected the panpipe and his senses and followed her out.
They shut and carefully locked the vault behind them. Conner tucked the chip safely into his pocket. They rode the elevator up to the casino and thanked the manager for his assistance.
As they raced down the front steps they plotted what their next move would be, although it was jarring to see the sun had already set while they were inside.
“Before we left the train station I took a look at the upcoming departures,” Bree said. “If we can make it back in time, there’s a nine o’clock overnight train to Prague that stops in Munich on the way.”
“Perfect,” Conner said. “There’s only one thing we’re missing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Pearl!” he said.
They turned around and dashed back into the casino. Pearl was still by the slot machine where they had left her. However, she was clutching three buckets full of coins she had won while they were downstairs.
“Nicely done, Pearl,” Bree said.
“Pearl, would you like to go on one last train ride with us?” Conner asked.
The old woman didn’t seem to understand him but she nodded sweetly. Pearl was in it for the ride as much as they were.
They brought her down the front steps of the casino and journeyed to the train station as fast as possible. They made it just in time and were the last ones to buy tickets and board the train. Their compartment wasn’t as nice as the other two had been but they didn’t mind—as long as they were on their way to Germany everything was right in the world.
The compartment door abruptly slid open to reveal an aggressive-looking train attendant. His eyes narrowed when he discovered Conner and Bree behind the door.
“Passports, please,” the attendant demanded.
“Why do you need to see our passports?” Conner asked.
The attendant squinted his eyes at Conner’s reluctance. “We’ve just gotten word of two runaway American teenage tourists,” he said. “It’s protocol to check the identification of every passenger on board the train who matches that description.”
Conner and Bree tensed up. They had come so close to getting to the portal but there was no way out of this now. Conner wondered if the train was moving too fast to jump out of it.
