A Grimm Warning (The Land of Stories, #3)(53)

“Haven’t you ever heard of the mad fairy-tale king?” Bree asked. Conner shook his head. “He was addicted to building lavish palaces for himself, all inspired by other palaces he had visited around the world.”

“He sounds like someone Red Riding Hood would be friends with,” Conner said, but he dropped the subject when he remembered he was the only person there who knew her.

“The last home Ludwig built for himself was Neuschwanstein Castle,” Bree continued. “It was inspired by all his favorite childhood stories and looks like something you’d find in a storybook. It’s considered one of the wonders of the modern world.”

“Wait, is considered, meaning the castle is still around?” Conner asked.

“Oh yes,” Bree said. “It’s easily one of the biggest tourist attractions in southern Germany. It’s always been a mystery why Ludwig built the castle, but it makes sense now.”

“But what happened to the portal? Is it somewhere inside the castle?” Conner asked.

“I’m assuming so, but I wouldn’t know,” the lion said. “I’ve lived within a five-kilometer radius my whole life.”

“Do you know how we can check the portal to see if it’s open or not?” Conner asked.

“Let me think, let me think,” the lion said, and he closed his eyes while he remembered. “Yes! The Bavarian portal is accessed when a person of magic blood plays eight notes on a special ancient panpipe.”

Conner made a mental note of this crucial information. “If it has to be played by someone of magic blood, then how did the Brothers Grimm open it for the French soldiers?” he asked.

The lion scrunched his nose; it was the part of the story he didn’t like telling. “Mother Goose took a dagger and made a cut in her hand and one in Wilhelm Grimm’s hand,” he said. “They held their hands tightly together and let some of the magic from Mother Goose’s blood flow into his. I really wish she had kept that part to herself—the thought of blood makes me incredibly squeamish since I don’t have any myself.”

“And where can we find this panpipe?” Conner asked.

“I believe it’s with the rest of Mother Goose’s Otherworld belongings in a vault in a Monégasque bank,” the lion said. “And I only know that because she measured me one day to see if I would fit in the vault, too. Thank goodness I was too big.”

“So, where is the bank?” Conner asked.

“Monégasque means it’s in Monte Carlo,” Bree said.

“Right,” Conner said. “So where in Monte Carlo is this bank?”

The lion thought about it and seemed very disappointed when he couldn’t come up with its location. “I don’t remember,” he said with a frown. “If only my mind were as concrete as the rest of me.”

Thankfully, this was the only question the lion didn’t have an answer to. Conner paced the sidewalk, concentrating carefully—the lion’s words reminded him of something Mother Goose had said in the past. He felt he should know where the bank was.…

He opened his suitcase and dug around until he found his lucky poker chip from Mother Goose. He looked closely at its design. The chip was dark blue and the symbols of the houses of cards circled around the edge: a heart, a spade, a diamond, a club. But in the very center of the chip, instead of a number to mark its value, there was an image of a small golden key.

“I think I know where to find the vault,” Conner said eagerly to Bree. “What time is it?”

Bree looked at the screen of her phone. “It’s almost four in the morning,” she said. “Wow, time flies when you’re talking to an enchanted statue.”

Conner looked up at the lion gratefully. “Thank you so much for all your help, but you’ll have to excuse us now,” he said. “We have to get to the train station as soon as possible.”

The lion seemed sad to see them go and his face returned to its trademark concerned expression. “Good luck,” the lion said. “And next time you see Mother Goose, please tell her I understand she’s a busy woman and there’s no need for her to visit me… ever again.”

Conner took off along Westminster Bridge, speed walking as fast as he could. Bree said good-bye to the South Bank Lion and caught up with him.

“So where are we off to next?” she asked him with bright eyes.

“We’re going to the Lumière des Etoiles casino,” Conner replied.

“Where is that?”

“Somewhere in Monte Carlo, I guess,” he said.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





THE LUMIèRE DES ETOILES CASINO


Conner and Bree made it to the train station at St. Pancras a little before six o’clock that morning. They hadn’t slept all night but neither showed any indication of being tired. They were living on adrenaline and determination. Conner had never run away before but now he understood why Jack and Goldilocks preferred a life on the run. Despite the circumstances, it had been a very exciting day.

Bree hadn’t stopped smiling since they left the South Bank. “I’m friends with a lion statue, I’m friends with a lion statue,” she sang to herself over and over again.

They gawked at a large map over the ticketing counters and tried to make sense of all the colorful lines showing which trains traveled where.