Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians

is serious. Terribly serious. Your skepticism results from a lifetime of training in the Librarians’ school system, where you were taught all kinds of lies. Indeed, you’d probably never even heard of the Smedrys, despite the fact that they are the most famous family of Oculators in the entire world. In most parts of the Free Kingdoms, being a Smedry is considered equivalent to being nobility.
    (If you wish to perform a fun test, next time you are in history class, ask your teacher about the Smedrys. If your teacher is a Librarian spy, he or she will get red-faced and give you a detention. If, on the other hand, your teacher is innocent, he or she will simply be confused, then likely give you a detention.)
    Remember, despite the fact that this book is being sold as a “fantasy” novel, you must take all of the things it says extremely seriously, as they are quite important, are in no way silly, and always make sense.
    Rutabaga.
    “ That is a knight?” I asked, pointed at the silver-haired girl.
    “Unfortunately,” Grandpa Smedry said.
    “But she’s a girl!” I said.
    “Yes,” Grandpa Smedry said. “and a very dangerous one, I might add. She was sent to protect me.”
    “Sent?” I said. “Who sent her, then?” And is she supposed to protect from Librarians, or from yourself?
    Bastille stalked right up to Grandpa Smedry, placed her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “I’d stab you with something if I didn’t know that you’d arrive too late to get hurt.”
    “Bastille, my dear,” Grandpa Smedry said. “How pleasant. Of course I didn’t mean to leave you behind. You see, I was running late, and I needed to go – “
    Bastille held up a hand to silence Grandpa, then glared at me. “Who is he?”
    “My grandson,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Alcatraz.”
    “ Another Smedry?” she asked. “I have to try to protect four of you now?”
    “Bastille, dear,” Grandpa Smedry said. “No need to get upset. He won’t be much trouble. Will you Alcatraz?”
    “Uh… no,” I said. That was, of course, an absolute lie. But would you have said anything different?
    Bastille narrowed her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. What are you planning, old man?”
    “Nothing to worry about,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Just a little infiltration.”
    “Of?” Bastille asked.
    “The downtown library,” Grandpa Smedry said, then smiled innocently.
    “ What?” Bastille said. “Honestly, can’t I even leave you alone for half a day? Shattering Glass! What would make you want to infiltrate that place?”
    “They have the Sands of Rashid,” Grandpa Smedry said.
    “So? We’ve got plenty of sand.”
    “These sands are very important,” Grandpa Smedry said. “It’s an Oculator sort of thing.”
    Bastille’s expression darkened a bit at that comment. She threw her hands into the air. “Whatever,” she said. “I assume we’re late.”
    “Very,” Grandpa Smedry said.
    “Fine.” She stabbed a finger at me; I barely suppressed a tense jump. “You, get in my car. You can fill me in on the mission. We’ll meet you there, old man.”
    “Lovely,” Grandpa Smedry said, looking relieved.
    “I – “ I began.
    “Must I remind you, Alcatraz,” Grandpa Smedry said, “that you shouldn’t swear? Now, we’re late! Get moving!”
    I paused. “Swear?” I said. However, my confusion gave Grandpa Smedry a perfect chance to escape, and I caught sight of the man’s eyes twinkling as he jumped into his car, Quentin and Sing joining him.
    “For an old man who arrives late to everything,” I noted, “he certainly is spry.”
    “Come on, Smedry!” Bastille growled, climbing back into her sleek car.
    I sighed, then rounded the vehicle and pulled open the passenger side door. I tossed the handle to the side as it broke off, then climbed in. Bastille rapped her knuckles on the dashboard, and the car started. Then she reached for the gear shift, throwing it into reverse.
    “Uh, doesn’t the car drive itself?” I asked.
    “Sometimes,” Bastille said. “It can do both – it’s a hybrid. We’re trying to get closer to things that look like real Hushlander vehicles.”
    With that, the car burst into motion.
    Now, I had been very frightened on several different occasions in my life. The most frightening of these involved an elevator and a mime. Perhaps the second most frightening involved a caseworker and a gun.
    Bastille’s driving, however, quickly threatened to become number three.
    “Aren’t you