The Missing Heir

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Authors: Tracy Barrett

BOOK: The Missing Heir
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X
ena and Xander Holmes sat at the kitchen table, hurrying through bowls of cold cereal. A gray London sky showed through the windows. Their mother, standing at the sink, was finishing a cup of coffee and telling them to hurry up while the announcer on the radio read the latest news in his calm British voice. It was a Thursday morning like any other.
Only, as it turned out, it wasn't.
Xena carried her bowl to the sink, and her mother said, “In the dishwasher, hon, and
please
hurry, Xander.”
Just then, the man on the radio said, “In local news, it has been revealed that twelve-year-old Alice Banders, a student at the London Multinational School, is the heir to the throne of the tiny country of Borogovia. Princess Alice is an orphan who has been living in London for
her education. She is scheduled to return to her home in two weeks, shortly after she turns thirteen. At that time, she will be crowned.
“In other news, talks between transportation workers and management have broken down. If no agreement is reached—”
Mrs. Holmes switched off the radio. “It looks like that strike is going to happen, after all. It's a good thing your spring break is about to start, or I'd have to drive you to school every day, and think of the traffic without buses and the Tube! And what's that about a princess at LMS? You must know her, Xena, right?”
Xena was standing in front of the dishwasher, the bowl hanging from her hand, forgotten. Alice Banders a princess? It didn't seem possible.
“Xena! You're dripping milk on the clean floor!” Her mother grabbed the bowl. “So do you know that girl?”
“I don't know her very well,” Xena said. “We worked together on a project in science class last term, and she's in two of my classes now, but she's really quiet. I never would have guessed she was a princess!”
“Is she that short girl with the big eyes and
the long blond hair?” Xander asked around a last mouthful of cereal. “The one who hardly ever talks?”
Before Xena could say any more than “Yes,” their mother exclaimed, “Oh no! Look at the time! And you haven't even brushed your teeth. It's too late for the Tube. I'll have to drive you to school, and I have a lot of work today. Scoot now, and grab your macs after you've washed and brushed. It looks like rain.”
Xena knew she should feel guilty about making their mother miss half an hour of work. Mrs. Holmes was a product tester for an electronics company back home in the States, and yesterday a big box had arrived for her. She would have a lot to do. Their father had already left for his job, teaching music at the university. But the Holmes family had lived in London since the fall, and the novelty of riding the subway—which Londoners called “the Tube”—had worn off, and the car was quicker and a lot more comfortable. Plus, the car radio would be on, tuned to the news as usual, and maybe they'd learn more about Alice on their way.
But during the fifteen minutes it took to get to school, the news reports were taken up with
the possible transportation strike, then some soccer star who had an injury that might keep him out of an important match, and finally a financial scandal. Apparently, a girl who turned out to be royalty wasn't important enough to report on more than once.
It was a different story at school. The plain brick building usually blended in with the neighborhood, except for the words “London Multinational School” carved into the stone above the heavy wooden door. But today, so many cars were parked in front that there was no place for Mrs. Holmes to pull up. The stone steps leading up to the entrance were packed with adults. Most of them held flashing, whirring cameras pointed toward the open door. Some called, “Alice! Alice! Look over here!”
“Are those people reporters?” Xander was amazed.
“And photographers!” Xena said, climbing out of the car. “Poor Alice—she's too shy for this!”
A harried-looking Mr. Singh, the assistant headmaster, stood in the middle of the crowd with his arms outspread, holding back some of the reporters. When a gap briefly opened, Xena
caught sight of Alice. Her pale hair made her visible even in the throng, and she looked terrified. A slender dark-haired man in a suit propelled her up the last few steps and inside the doors. The photographers on the stairs took a few more shots and then turned away, disappearing into the cars that lined the street.
Mrs. Holmes pulled into one of the suddenly vacant spots. “It looks like there's going to be some excitement around here today!” she said. “Maybe I should come in with you.”
Xander slid out hastily. “Oh no, Mom, please don't. Those reporters are gone, and Mr. Singh is still out there. He'll let us in.” Xena followed her brother before their mother could change her mind and mortify them by walking them into school like little kids. They ran up the steps past Mr. Singh, who was wiping his face with a handkerchief. Thank goodness, he seemed so preoccupied that he didn't scold them for being late.
Once inside, Xena saw a crowd of people buzzing around Alice, asking her questions. Most of them were students, but even a few teachers were there too.
“I wish they'd quit bugging her,” Xander said. “She looks like she's about to cry.”
She really did, and when a boy Xander's age asked a particularly dumb question (“Do you sleep in your crown?”), Xena lost her patience. She managed to squeeze through the crowd and grab Alice's arm. “Come on,” she said. “Let's go to math. First bell rang ages ago.”
Alice turned eyes full of such gratitude on her that Xena felt as though she had pulled a puppy from a well. The two girls hurried down the hall.
“Thanks,” Alice said. “That was
awful
. And the worst part of it is that I don't even want to be a princess.”
“You don't?”
“No. I want to be a singer. I was going to audition for
Talented Brits
—you know, that TV show?”
Xena nodded. Everybody was familiar with the popular program, which showcased musicians, dancers, actors, even magicians and tumblers, from all over the British Isles. “What do you mean, you were
going to
audition? Aren't you anymore?”
Alice looked even sadder. “My aunt—she's my guardian—she won't let me, now that people know who I am. She says it's too dangerous. But
I think that's just an excuse. She's never wanted me to be a singer. She says it's unsuitable for a princess.”
Xena didn't know what to say. Her parents had always been supportive of her and Xander and their dream to be detectives. Before the silence grew awkward, and just before a crowd of their classmates reached them, Alice leaned closer and touched Xena's arm. “I can trust you, can't I?”
Xena didn't know what Alice meant, but she nodded.
“I have a problem and I don't know what to do about it. I know you've solved some mysteries, and I don't know who to ask about this one. I thought maybe you could help.”
“I'll try,” Xena said. “What's it about?”
Just then the second bell rang, and they were swept up in a wave of chattering kids and into the classroom.
H
alfway through math, Xena raised her hand and got permission to go to the bathroom. She looked hard at Alice as she passed her. Xena hoped that the other girl had gotten her message:
You come too
.
As Xena stood at the sink washing her hands, the door opened and Alice stepped in. “Be right out!” she called over her shoulder. “My bodyguard,” she said to Xena in a lower voice. “This is about the only place he can't follow me!”
Thank goodness her bodyguard isn't a woman, Xena thought, but all she said was, “We don't have much time. What's going on?”
Alice launched right into her story. “Yesterday, I found some letters in a desk drawer. The desk is in a room in our house that nobody ever goes into, and the drawer was stuck shut. But I was curious about it, so I pulled it open. The letters
were written more than a hundred years ago, and there was something I read in them that worried me.”
“Your Highness?” The man's voice made both girls jump.
“Just a minute, Jasper!” Alice called. Xena hoped the door muffled the other girl's voice so the bodyguard wouldn't notice that it was shaking. Alice took a deep breath. “The handwriting is hard to read and the language is really old-fashioned. I can read Borogovian—some—but this was difficult to understand, and I'm not sure I got exactly what they're talking about. One of the letters mentions Sherlock Holmes, and—”
A loud knock interrupted her. “Your Highness,” the man said, more sternly this time. “I'm afraid that you have to come out now, or I'll be forced to send someone in to fetch you.”
Alice threw an agonized look at Xena. “I have to go! I can't stay after school today, but I have permission to stay late tomorrow. Can you meet me?” Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared through the door, which was being opened from the outside.
 
 
All day, Xena itched to talk to Alice, but after math, they didn't have another class together until science that afternoon, and then they had a test for the entire hour. Alice's bodyguard hung around outside the classroom the whole time. His ghostly shape kept appearing through the frosted glass that took up the upper half of the door. The instant the final bell rang, he came in and hovered over Alice while she threw her books into her schoolbag and scurried out of the room, looking mortified.
Xander was waiting for Xena at her locker. As they made their way through the crowd, she told him what Alice had said. When she mentioned the mysterious letters that had Sherlock's name in them, her brother's big blue eyes sparkled. “There's something about Borogovia in the casebook!”
“What does it say?”
Xander's photographic memory really came in handy sometimes, but it turned out that this wasn't one of those times. “I didn't read the whole thing,” he admitted. “But I will now.”
As soon as they got home, Xander found the casebook where Sherlock Holmes, their great-great-great-grandfather, had scribbled notes about the mysteries he was working on
but hadn't solved. Xander flipped past the three cold cases that he and Xena had already solved and found the pages where Borogovia was mentioned. A newspaper clipping was tucked into the notebook too. Xena tried not to show her impatience while Xander read the pages more quickly than she ever could.
“Wow, this is pretty amazing!” Xander finally said. “There was this princess of Borogovia who got kidnapped.”
“What happened?” Xena asked.
“She was just a baby, it says here in the newspaper. Her parents were away because her mom, Queen Charlotte, got sick after the baby was born, so her husband, King Boris, took her on a cruise.” Xander picked up another clipping and frowned. “Huh!”
“What?” Xander was so annoying sometimes.
“The baby was returned a few weeks later, right before the king and queen got home. She wasn't hurt or anything. So I wonder why they called Sherlock in.”
“Maybe Alice knows something about it,” Xena said. “I'll ask Mom if we can stay after school tomorrow. Then we can get more information from her.”
 
 
The next afternoon, at the end of the school day, the music teacher came on the intercom to remind everyone about the audition for a solo in the glee club recital the next week. The girl who was supposed to sing the soprano solo had gotten appendicitis and wouldn't be able to perform.
“I wonder if that's why Alice is staying late today,” Xander said as he and Xena made their way down the corridor. “Is she a singer?”
“She said she wanted to be one,” Xena said, “but I never heard her sing. I wonder if she's any good. That glee club concert will probably be right before she leaves to be crowned.” It was still an odd thought, that timid Alice was about to become a queen.
Through the big windows that faced the street, Xena and Xander noticed a black limousine with windows tinted such a dark shade there was no way you could see inside it. It must be Alice's, Xena thought. A lot of their classmates had parents who were politicians and diplomats, but they had never seen this car before Alice had been revealed to be a princess. A group of photographers and reporters were hanging around it, looking hopefully at the
school, and exhaust was coming out of the car, so Xena decided that Alice must still be inside the building.
“Isn't that her bodyguard?” Xander pointed down the hall. Xena caught sight of the man named Jasper standing near the auditorium door. She and Xander managed to make their way through the crowd of departing students, teachers giving instructions, and parents calling for their children, to where Alice was waiting in line for her turn to audition.
Alice gave Xena a shy smile. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said. “We can give you a ride home afterward.”
“Cool!” Xander said, but Xena dug him in the ribs. Their mother would kill them if they took a ride from someone she didn't know, even if it was a schoolmate.
“Thanks, but we'll take the Tube,” Xena said. “So tell me about those letters that you found. We know there was a princess who was kidnapped around a hundred years ago, when you said they were written. Do the letters have anything to do with that?”
Alice dropped her voice and looked around, but everyone was too excited about spring break
to pay them much attention. “Princess Stella, the kidnapped baby, was my great-great-grandmother. She was born here, in the same house where I live with my aunt Penelope.”
“Why would a Borogovian princess be born in London?” Xander asked.
The girl in line in front of Alice was called, and she stepped into the auditorium. Alice's turn would be next.
“The princess's mother, Queen Charlotte, was English,” Alice explained. “She wanted to have her baby here, where her own mother could be with her. Charlotte's own nanny had retired, and the queen was lonely in Borogovia, so she came here to be with her mom and to hire a new nanny. Anyway, the queen wrote those letters I found to a friend back in Borogovia. She wrote them after the baby had been kidnapped and returned.”
“What did they say?” Xander was impatient. Any minute now, Alice would be called.
“I'm not exactly sure,” she said. “I told Xena that the language is old-fashioned, and my formal Borogovian isn't very good—it's really different from the way people speak nowadays. But one of them seemed to say—”
“Alice Banders!” the music teacher called from inside the auditorium.
“Wait!” Xander stepped between Alice and the door. She hesitated, looking from him to Xena and back again. “Can't you at least tell us what the letters are about?”
“Alice Banders!” came from the auditorium again, this time with an edge of impatience to it.
The girl behind Alice said, “Come
on
! If you don't want to do it, just say so. My mother's waiting.”
“It's too complicated,” Alice said to Xena. “I can't just …” Her voice trailed off as she pushed past Xander and disappeared into the large room.

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