Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians

was all about information. Perhaps you’ve noticed, but the rest of us don’t quite fit into your world.”
    I nodded.
    “You have information, lad,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Important information. You understand the lies the Librarians are teaching – and you understand their culture. That makes you important. Very important.”
    “So, my parents gave me up so that they could make a spy out of me?” I asked.
    “It was a very hard decision, my boy,” Grandpa Smedry said quietly. “And they did not make it lightly. But even when you were a baby, they knew you would rise to the challenge. You are a Smedry.”
    “And there was no other way?” I demanded.
    “I know it’s hard to understand, lad. And, truth be told, I often questioned their decision. But… well, how many people from other countries have you known who could speak your language perfectly?”
    “Not many.”
    “The more different a language is from your own,” Grandpa Smedry said, “the more difficult it is to sound like a native. For some languages, I’m convinced it’s impossible. The difference between our world and yours isn’t as much a matter of language as it is a matter of understanding. I can see that I don’t quite fit in here, but I can’t see why. It’s been the same for all of our operatives. We needed someone on the inside – someone who understood the way Librarians think, the way they live.”
    I sat quietly for a long moment. “So,” I finally said, “why aren’t my parents here? Why did you have to come get me?”
    “I can’t really answer that, Alcatraz. You know we lost track of your father some years ago, just after you were born. I kind of hoped I’d find him here, on your thirteenth birthday, come to deliver the sands himself. That obviously didn’t happen.”
    “You have no idea where he is, then?”
    Grandpa Smedry shook his head. “He is a good man – and a good Oculator. My instincts tell me that he’s alive, though I have no real proof of that. He must be about something important, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is!”
    “And my mother?” I asked.
    Grandpa Smedry didn’t reply immediately. So, I turned to a light tangent – something that had been bothering me for some time. “When I wore the Tracker’s Lenses back in the library, I was able to see your footprints for a long, long time.”
    “That’s not surprising,” Grandpa Smedry said.
    “And,” I said, “when you came into my house, you identified my room with the Tracker’s Lenses because you saw so many footprints leading into it. But I’d only walked out there once that day. So, the other sets of footprints must have been hours – or even days – old.”
    “True,” Grandpa Smedry said.
    “So,” I said, “the Tracker’s Lenses work differently for family.”
    “Not differently, lad.” Grandpa Smedry said. “Family members are part of you, and so they’re a part of what you know best. Their tracks tend to hang around for a long time, no matter how little you think you know them.”
    I sat quietly in my seat. “I saw Ms. Fletcher’s footprints hours after she’d made them.” I finally said.
    “Not surprising.”
    I closed my eyes. “Why did she and my father break up?”
    “He fell in love with a Librarian, lad,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Marrying her wasn’t the wisest decision he ever made. They thought they could make it work.”
    “And they were wrong?”
    “Apparently,” Grandpa Smedry said. “Your father saw something in her – something that I’ve never been able to see. She isn’t exactly the most loyal of Librarians, and your father thought that would make her more lenient to our side. But… I think she’s only interested in herself. She married your father for his Talent, I’m convinced. Either way, I think that she was another reason that your father agreed to let you be raised in Librarian lands. That way, your mother could see you. He still loved her, I’m afraid. Probably still does, poor fool.”
    I closed my eyes. She sold the Sands of Rashid to Blackburn. My father’s life’s work, my inheritance. And… Blackburn implied that she would sell me too. I didn’t know how to think about what I felt. For some reason, all the danger – all the threats – I’d been through during the last few days hadn’t felt as disturbing to me as the knowledge that my mother lived.
    And that she was on the wrong side.
    Grandpa Smedry’s car puttered to a stop. I opened