The Fabulous Zed Watson!

by Basil Sylvester

  They were lush and green, but the rest of the landscape was brown and desertlike. The occasional cactus sprung up on the side of a low rolling hill.

  We were heading into town when Sam passed me her phone.

  “Guide us home,” she said. “But don’t use up all my data.”

  At some point, we left the main street and began driving on a rocky road. DRCR bumped and swayed as Sam slowed down to lessen the shock.

  I didn’t see exactly where we were heading because I was focused on the phone, watching the GPS coordinates like a countdown clock.

  The road grew bumpier.

  “We’re here!” I said at last as the numbers aligned with our code.

  “We are?” Sam sounded skeptical, but she stopped the car and turned off the engine.

  Gabe rolled down his window.

  Silence. Except for the breeze and a few chirping birds.

  I looked up from the phone.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I saw.

  Instead of a bustling town or even a wide-open desert plain, I saw a lone brick building in the middle of a field. Bushes and cacti spread off into the distance. The building was only one story high. I couldn’t see a door or any windows. The red brick was faded and had been pockmarked by the wind. The orange roof tiles shimmered in the heat. The building looked old and abandoned.

  “This is a Monster’s Castle?” Jo asked. “Looks more like a monster’s chimney.”

  She had a point.

  “Maybe we need to take a closer look?” I said.

  Sam leaned back in her seat. “You and Gabe have fun. I need a nap.”

  “Good idea,” Jo said. She put her head on Sam’s shoulder, and in just seconds they were snoring away.

  “I guess it’s just you and me, Gabe,” I said.

  We got out of the car and quietly closed the door.

  As we approached the building, we noticed signs of life. There was actually a well-maintained flagstone path that led around the building. The brick on that side seemed less worn. The building was also bigger than it looked from the car—it stretched back at least a hundred feet.

  “Almost like an optical illusion,” Gabe said. “Seems like a tiny old building from one side and a huge one from the other.”

  “But you have to walk around to see that,” I said.

  “And there are windows here,” Gabe said.

  “And there’s a door!”

  The door was tucked into a cavity in the brick. You had to be almost right in front of it to know it was there.

  I gasped. “The doorknob, Gabe. It’s brass. Like in Lysander’s chapter!”

  He ran over.

  “Maybe this is it!” he said.

  “It has to be. Shall we?”

  We put our hands on the doorknob together and turned.

  There was a slight rush of cool air, and the door opened wide.

  Chapter 28

  The Gate

  As surprising as the outside had been, the inside was even more unexpected.

  Row upon row of polished wooden bookcases.

  Each shelf packed with books.

  If The Monster’s Castle was here, it was going to be hard to find.

  We stepped inside.

  The door closed with a hush behind us. Then total silence.

  “It’s a library!” I said in a quiet voice.

  “And what a library!” Gabe said. “It’s beautiful!”

  “What is it doing in the middle of nowhere?”

  “The Monster’s Castle must be here!”

  I walked over to the first bookcase and ran my fingers along the spines.

  A few were the kind of leather-bound books you might expect to see behind glass in a library.

  But most were worn paperbacks.

  Some with cracking spines.

  But all carefully organized by subject and lined up in perfectly straight rows.

  Amazing titles immediately popped out.

  GILA the Destroyer!

  The Monster Calls at Midnight.

  The Haunting of Chicken Ranch.

  The Dark Looked Back.

  “They’re all about monsters,” I said. “This is the greatest collection I’ve ever seen. These books are famous!”

  Some of the books, like The Vampyre’s Journey, I’d actually read. But I’d read them as e-books. I didn’t even know physical copies still existed.

  “This one, The Ghoul’s Guide to Ghosting, is so old there’s only a few remaining copies in the whole world. And they’re all in private collections.”

  But as much as I searched, no Monster’s Castle.

  “Wow,” Gabe said, poring over the titles on another shelf. “These are all about botany.”

  I walked over. He had pulled a thick hardcover down and placed it on an oak table. There was a wooden stand to put the book on so you could open it without damaging the spine.

  Gabe carefully placed the book down and opened it gently. His eyes grew incredibly wide. There were pages of Latin (of course) and faintly colored prints of leaves and flowers.

  “This is an original Linnaeus!” he said. “He was the founder of modern botany. This is amazing!”

  “And this is an original Higgins! And an original Bernard!” I started pulling books off the shelves to show Gabe.

  Just then, I heard someone cough behind us.

  “Aah!” I yelped, startled. I whirled around quickly, dropping some of the books.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

  I bent to pick them up, and they did too.

  “It’s okay,” they said, and we both straightened up.

  Standing in front of me was a person with short gray hair in a three-piece tweed suit. They had a watch chain that went from their belt to their pocket, and they were smiling at me. I liked them instantly.

  “Welcome to my library.” Their voice was soft and melodic.

  “YOUR library?” I said, eyes wide.

  They nodded, still smiling.

  “I don’t get a lot of people out here. But I see you are enthusiasts yourselves. Do you know about that one?” they asked, gesturing to one of the books in my hands.

  “The Leviathan Wakes?! Of course! I’ve wanted to read this my whole life. This obsessed sea captain battling this giant sea monster. I mean, just look at the cover!” It showed a giant black whale-like creature swallowing a ship. “SO COOL!”

  Gabe leaned close to my ear. “Zed, shh! This is a library, remember?”

  “Oh, was I yelling? Sorry.”

  The librarian smiled. “That’s perfectly okay. I like your excitement. And this is not that kind of library. . . ?” They cocked their head at me with a questioning look.

  “Zed! My name is Zed. And my pronouns are they/them/theirs!”

  “And so are mine, Zed! I love that name, by the way. Did you pick it yourself?”

  I thought they could not possibly get any more awesome, but they had!

  “Yes! And this is Gabe!”

  The librarian gave a little bow. “Nice to meet you both. Now tell me, how did you get all the way out here?”

  “We drove,” I said, “all the way from Happy! And before that, Arcadia, except our car broke down, so we had to stop over in Okay—”

  Gabe interrupted. “Yeah, we were following the clues from the poem!”

  “Poem?” said the librarian, arching an eyebrow. “What poem?”

  Gabe and I took turns filling them in on the whole story. They stood in front of us, hands behind their back, listening and occasionally asking questions. We showed them the postcards from Jerry, and I told them about Aloysius. When we finally got to the end of our story, Gabe and I were out of breath.

  But I had one last question.

  “So is it here? The Monster’s Castle? It has to be, right? Do you have it? Can we see it? Can we take pictures? Can we read it?”

  The librarian put their hand to their face and tapped their chin in thought.

  “Hmmm. The Mo
nster’s Castle. We don’t have any book by that title here, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh,” I said, deflating. “Wait—did someone else get here and take it already?”

  “No. It’s just not here.”

  “Oh,” I said again.

  “Oh,” Gabe said.

  Just like that, it was over.

  I have never, ever felt worse.

  Not when I thought the trip wasn’t going to happen. Not when I thought the historian was going to get to the book first. Not in the brief moment when I thought he had. Not when I yelled at Gabe. Or when I yelled at Sam.

  Not even when the car broke down and I thought I was going to die.

  I thought about all the things that had led up to this moment. All the time and the effort. I could see by the look on Gabe’s face that he was having the same thoughts.

  We had never failed more colossally. I noticed Gabe had started crying. I touched my own face and realized it was wet as well.

  “Now, now,” said the librarian, putting their hands on our shoulders. “Come over to my desk, and I’ll make you some tea. You’ve come a long way and had such thrilling adventures. Don’t leave just yet.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but only a squeaky noise came out, so I just said, “Okay.”

  “Sure,” said Gabe beside me.

  The librarian led us over to a far corner of the library. There were two old leather armchairs and side tables laid out next to a beautiful large oak desk.

  The desk had an old-fashioned lamp and a potted flower sitting on it.

  The librarian moved the chairs so they were facing their desk and motioned for us to sit. I did, but Gabe went up to the flower.

  “This is an incredible orchid,” he said. “It’s so beautiful.”

  I saw that Gabe was right. It was delicate, with tiny green flowers just blooming on the end of a long curved stem.

  “Thank you. I’m very interested in flowers,” they said. “It’s known as the Hawaiian bog orchid. Not the prettiest name, but such a beautiful flower.”

  “The Latin name is prettier,” Gabe said. “Peristylus holochila.”

  The librarian beamed. “Exactly.”

  “It’s incredibly rare. You must be an amazing gardener to keep it alive. It’s so strange to see it here.”

  “I guess you could say I like to give strange and beautiful things a home.” They laughed slightly and gestured around. “If you couldn’t tell. But you must be an amazing gardener as well, Gabe. It’s partly why I’m so intrigued by your story. I’m incredibly impressed that you figured out all those clues about plants.”

  “Thanks,” Gabe said, but his shoulders slumped.

  “And, Zed, as you can tell, I also like monster stories. And you were able to solve all those clues. Fabulous.”

  “Thanks,” I said weakly. But I didn’t feel fabulous. All I could think was that maybe the whole story had been a hoax. Maybe the book wasn’t even real in the first place.

  The librarian noticed I was still crying, and they clucked their tongue at both of us. “You two need to recognize what you achieved together. Maybe the tea will help.”

  They disappeared behind a shelf, leaving me and Gabe alone.

  “Well, partner, I guess this is it,” Gabe said.

  He pulled out a tissue pack from one of his pockets and gave me one. We both honked our noses. I shared my awful thought.

  “What if the book is a jackalope? Cool and awesome, but just a hoax? What if it was never meant to be found at all?”

  He shook his head. “No. The coordinates led us here for a reason. It’s too odd a place not to be the home of The Monster’s Castle.”

  “Do you think the librarian is lying to us?” I asked.

  “No,” Gabe said. “But I just don’t get it. We followed all the clues! I don’t see how we could be wrong. Maybe we need to keep looking at the shelves?”

  I was too miserable to reply. The thought of returning home empty-handed made me shiver. My whole family coming up and asking me how it went? I would have to tell them it had all been a waste of time.

  The librarian returned with a teapot and two dainty teacups.

  “Okay, let this steep for a bit,” they said.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood,” I said.

  They put the teapot and cups down on the desk. “Milk or sugar?” they asked.

  Gabe raised his hand and said, “I take honey, if you have some.”

  “Well, that does sound good,” the librarian said. “I make my own, actually. I have some in the back. Zed? Honey?”

  I nudged my teacup but couldn’t find the energy to say yes or no.

  The librarian smiled at me. “Come now, don’t look so down. You achieved so many great things. Together. It’s very impressive.”

  Gabe and I looked at each other and smiled weakly. It was true. We had worked together to solve the puzzle. It wasn’t our fault that the puzzle had turned out to be unsolvable.

  “And there might be a way I can help.”

  “But you can’t,” I said, picking at a loose thread on my sweater. “You said the book’s not here.”

  “Ah, yes. That is true. But while I was in the kitchen, I remembered something else I think you might like. It’s a book about plants and monsters. I was looking at it only this morning. Now where did I put it?”

  They raised their head and took in the room.

  “What kind of plants?” Gabe asked.

  “This type of orchid, for example,” they said. They used a finger to gently adjust the plant. “Beautiful how it turns in the light, no?”

  Gabe nodded.

  “What type of monsters?” I asked.

  “All kinds. Such as the dragon on my lamp.” They pointed to the iron lamp on the desk. The stem was a twisting fire-breathing dragon.

  “That’s awesome!”

  “Thank you,” the librarian said, nodding. “Now, where did I leave that book? I know it’s not the one you’re looking for, but it might make you feel better.”

  “Is it here?” I asked.

  “Let me get you that honey. Feel free to look around while I’m gone.”

  They disappeared again. I tried to perk up and wondered what the book could possibly be if it wasn’t The Monster’s Castle.

  I looked over at the orchid and the lamp.

  I noticed that the dragon’s arm was pointing toward the far wall of the library. I followed the line and saw that a reading area had been set up, with two armchairs and a low table with a vase of flowers.

  The orchid was also leaning that way. The librarian had turned it to do that!

  “Gabe, what flowers are those?” I pointed to the vase.

  Gabe squinted. “I need a closer look.”

  We walked over.

  “Zed,” he said.

  I recognized something in his hushed voice. It was awe.

  “What?”

  “Look at the flowers.” He pointed to the arrangement in the vase. “Rose, moonflower, bluebonnet and ivy,” he whispered.

  “So? I don’t—” I was about to say I didn’t get it, but then I did: the plants were all from the book.

  “Lysander—blue rose,” Gabe said.

  “Moonflower and bluebonnet—Yves.”

  “Ivy covers the monster’s castle.”

  “Covers?” My eyes grew wide and my breath grew short. “What’s underneath?”

  I got down on my knees.

  There was a shelf under the table. Under the ivy.

  And on it was a book.

  Not a pulpy paperback, but a beautiful leather-bound book. I grabbed it and flipped it over. There was no title or author name on the spine or front cover.

  I felt a chill.

  “Is this it?”

  “Was the librarian just teasing us?”

  “Hello!” I called. But there was no answer.

  “Open it,” Gabe said.

  I slowly turned the cover.

  It wasn’t Taylor’s treasure. />
  In fact, it wasn’t a book at all. Or at least, not anymore.

  A secret compartment had been cut out of the pages. Green silk was folded over in the hole.

  Gabe took a deep breath, pinched the corners of the fabric and pulled it aside.

  Revealing not a manuscript but a key—and beneath the key, a hand-drawn map.

  We searched the stacks for any sign of the librarian, but they had disappeared.

  Chapter 29

  Consequences

  Gabe and I couldn’t stop passing the key back and forth.

  It was small but ornate. The top was some kind of iron skull. It was awesome. We had no idea what it might open.

  The crinkly old map was simpler. Just a set of coordinates and some hand-drawn mounds of rock. The mounds in the middle looked like an actual castle, or maybe a sandcastle, and had a blood-red X drawn overtop.

  Here’s the thing we’d learned about maps: they get you close to a place, but not standing-on-top-of-anactual-X close. So we still had to do some searching.

  I looked out the car window as we drove farther into the desert. There were a LOT of rocks. And they all seemed to look like the mounds on the map.

  “I had hoped this last part would be easier,” I said.

  Gabe nodded. “Maybe we’ll know the perfect mound when we see it?”

  I smiled, imagining the scene. “The sun will set just over the top,” I said, “sending rays of light flowing. There’ll be some awesome dramatic music playing.”

  “Verdi.”

  “Disco. And then a fallen angel with wings of fire will raise a hand and point toward a cave, saying—”

  Sam broke our reverie. “The sun will be setting in about two hours, angel or no angel. If you haven’t found it by then, we’ll have to get moving and come back tomorrow. The desert can be pretty darn cold at night.”

  Jo tapped the dashboard. “And we should stop for gas and oil. Don’t want to be trapped out there.”

  Miles back, we’d passed a sign with a picture of a longhorn skull and the words “Al’s Gas—Last Stop Before You Drop.” Later, another one read, “Leaving Civilization? Better Visit Al’s Station.” And finally, “Last Gas Before Your Last Gasp.”

  I totally wanted to meet this guy!