“Ah, so that’s why you stayed in such good condition during the war and the demolition,” Bree said.
“But that doesn’t explain why you can talk,” Conner pointed out.
“Well, after a few years Mother Goose’s brewery friends started dying off,” the lion explained. “She wanted a friend who would stick around and give her an excuse to come back to the brewery. And unfortunately she chose me. Although I still don’t understand why she gave me the ability to speak when all I ever did was listen.”
“Speaking of listening,” Conner said, “do you remember her mentioning anything about the Brothers Grimm and sabotaging a portal?”
The lion scrunched his forehead and tried to remember. “It rings a bell,” he said. “Was this the same time she led the French soldiers into a trap?”
“Yes! That’s it!” Conner said with a happy jump.
The lion’s eyes grew wider and he nodded his giant stone head. “Oh boy, do I remember that story,” he said. “I wish I could forget it! It gave me nightmares for fifty years!”
Conner knew he needed to be very clear and careful as he got the information out of him to avoid making any mistakes later.
“Do you remember where the portal was that she trapped the soldiers inside?” he asked.
“I do,” the lion said confidently. “It was deep in the Bavarian woods, between twin trees that grew between twin medieval castles. The only reason I remember is because I’m a twin myself.”
“Where is Bavaria?” Conner asked.
“It’s an old country that’s now a state of Germany,” Bree said. “Two trees between two medieval castles seems pretty easy to find.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t find the trees and the castles anymore,” the lion told them regretfully. “They’re gone.”
“What?” Conner and Bree said together. “What do you mean they’re gone?”
“After the Brothers Grimm tricked the soldiers into entering the tampered-with portal, Mother Goose grew paranoid that the soldiers would find a way out, back into this world, so she asked her friend Ludwig for a very large favor,” he said.
“What was the favor?” Conner asked.
“She asked Ludwig to build one of his elaborate castles on top of the portal, so if the soldiers were ever to re-emerge from it they might be tricked into thinking they had arrived in the fairy-tale world.”
“He built a castle for her?” Conner asked in disbelief. “That is a big favor.”
Bree gasped and clutched her hands together. “Wait a second, are you talking about King Ludwig II of Bavaria?” she asked.
“That was his official name, I believe,” the lion said. “Mother Goose always just called him Ludwig or Wiggy.”
Conner was the only one who had never heard of Ludwig. “Who was he?” he asked.
“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.