Zoe is an orphan with a loathing of the Sandar Republic and its leaders. Her goals in life are not normal: to stay alive and to expose the deceit and dark purpose of the republic officials that threaten her.
Rey, also an orphan raised by his grandfather, is a friend of Zoe. He will help his grandfather gain possession of seven enchanted talismans that could locate an ancient treasure vault and reveal secrets of a royal lineage that were buried long ago. The talismans include a miniature spinning wheel, a strange-looking clock, an animated ship in a bottle, a moving, miniature rocking horse, and a lighted globe. The true prize is a puzzle book which holds the all-important key to the vault.
A sorcerer hid the crown treasure when the King was killed years long past, and he enchanted a hidden chamber to hold it. He created safeguards to ensure only the true heir could ever re-claim it. It was him that fashioned the puzzle book and hid it where it could be found only with the aid of the other talismans.
It is up to Zoe to solve more than one puzzle that has eluded her friends.
Zoe is an orphan with a loathing of the Sandar Republic and its leaders. Her goals in life are not normal: to stay alive and to expose the deceit and dark purpose of the republic officials that threaten her.
Rey, also an orphan raised by his grandfather, is a friend of Zoe. He will help his grandfather gain possession of seven enchanted talismans that could locate an ancient treasure vault and reveal secrets of a royal lineage that were buried long ago. The talismans include a miniature spinning wheel, a strange-looking clock, an animated ship in a bottle, a moving, miniature rocking horse, and a lighted globe. The true prize is a puzzle book which holds the all-important key to the vault.
A sorcerer hid the crown treasure when the King was killed years long past, and he enchanted a hidden chamber to hold it. He created safeguards to ensure only the true heir could ever re-claim it. It was him that fashioned the puzzle book and hid it where it could be found only with the aid of the other talismans.
It is up to Zoe to solve more than one puzzle that has eluded her friends.
Zoe Hammond dropped behind a gorse bush and put a spyglass to her eye. On the hillside just ahead was a vineyard; its straight rows of mature grape vines now fragrant with blossoms. A dirt road led to a multiple-story, brown stucco building where two men were removing white bags from a horse drawn cart and exchanging them for cases of wine.
The vineyard belonged to Fowler and Son, an association of wine growers that had been favored by the Sandar government for decades. New acreage was often added to their property at the expense of their neighbors, and they enjoyed rare favors in marketing that could only come with the blessing of the Republic. There were even rumors circulating that they never paid taxes, and that really caused some grumbling.
Zoe had watched this activity before. She knew a transaction was going down, and she guessed it was a swap of premium wine for illicit drugs. The only way to be certain there was poppy powder in the bags would be to pinch one of them.
She had often wondered how the Sandar Republic could fund such a vast police force. The Greenies, as they were called because of their olive green uniforms, were well paid and well fed, and the bankroll needed to support them would have to be sizeable. A lucrative business in drugs would pay the bills handsomely.
As she watched the men put the white bags onto a wheelbarrow, Zoe considered how sheâd become convinced the Republic was corrupt. The idea hadnât come to her just yesterday. In fact, she had known something wasnât right four years ago when she was thirteen, and sheâd suffered from the effects of disreputable government officials for much longer than that.
Her early life had been one of sadness and hardship. She only vaguely remembered her parents before they had died, and sheâd been placed into foster care when she was still very young. Her new guardians had been poor, and as the Republic didnât reimburse foster parents for their expenses, sheâd been passed from one home to another over a period of several years. At the age of thirteen, she had left her last caretakers to live on the streets.
Zoe was gregarious and made friends quickly; a quality which saved her from the dubious fate of being placed into a state-run orphanage. She learned quickly that some of her friends were peddling white bags of poppy powder for their way of life. The police never questioned these youthful dealers, even though it was universally known what they were selling. Zoe believed this was because the police and the officials in charge were actually involved in the racket.
In a stroke of good fortune, she had become acquainted with a man named Jean Trapper and his grandson, Rey. They were kind to her and soon became her very good friends. Trapper paid her a small allowance for reading ancient histories and writing down key passages for him, and with this revenue she was able to feed herself. Without his kindness, Zoe may have followed her acquaintances into the world of illicit drugs.
Zoe took another look through the spyglass. It appeared as though the transfer at the winery was done. A white-bearded man hopped into the horse cart and whipped his team up the lane. It was always the same guy. She didnât care about what was now in the cart, but she was very interested in what the man had just delivered.
She made a snap decision. She would go into that house, steal a bag of the contraband, and see if she could figure out what it was--she knew the taste of poppy powder from her time on the streets. She arose and slapped the dust off her overalls. She was dressed as a train engineer, and the large cap completely covered her long hair. The disguise was good as long as she wasnât seen by someone too close.
Her spying was dangerous; and she knew it, but that didnât stop her. Trapper would not be happy if he knew what she was doing this evening. She took risks because of her hatred of the Republic, and especially the man in charge of it. Wag Wilson was the chief of police and a sadistic killer who ruled the Republic through fear and intimidation. She would love to find information that could be used against him.
The dust from the passing cart had settled and the vineyard owner had disappeared into the stucco house. She placed the spyglass into her handbag. It was evening, and the light was fading. If she waited another half hour, it should be safe to make a run for the house. She would grab a bag of the stuff and get out. Burglary wasnât her thing, but there was no other way to find out what was in the bags.
After it was sufficiently dark, she sprinted through the vineyard to the rear of the building. The window was agape, and she was able to open it far enough to poke her head in. She found herself looking into a storage room filled with cloth-covered objects. There were no bags in sight.
She crawled through the window and peeked beneath one of the sheets. She saw a walnut table but no white bags. These people must be rich to moth-ball such a fine-looking table, she thought.
Muffled voices were coming from somewhere in the house. She left the store-room for a hallway where two more rooms were visible. The doors were closed to each room.
After listening at the nearest door, she opened it a crack and looked in. It was a messy bedroom with an unmade bed and several items of clothing strewn on the floor. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of old sweat and closed the door softly.
The next room was also a bedroom, but this one was much tidier. There were no white bags here, either. She would have to move deeper into the house.
At the end of the hallway was a living room with a sofa and several upholstered chairs. An opened bottle of wine stood on a small table in a corner and an open newspaper was on the sofa. Two exits from the room led to other parts of the house, one toward the front and the other to a stairway. The voices seemed to be coming from the upper level.
Zoe tiptoed through the living room toward the front, where she could see two more rooms. Through the farthest room she could see the front door that led outside.
She peeked around the corner into the first room and her heart leaped. She was in luck. There were two stacks of the white cloth bags, with each being at least three feet high and containing hundreds of bags. If this was illicit drugs, there would be a lot of value here. She grabbed a bag and stuffed it into her purse.
Zoe had begun to retrace her steps when she heard someone coming down the stairs to the living room. She froze in her tracks. She would have to leave the front way.
But that wouldnât be easy. A peek around the corner showed her two men were in the front room drinking wine; a teenager and an older fellow. The pungent smell of wine lingered in the air as if some had been spilled recently.
Zoeâs mind raced. She had two choices; she could either make a run for the front door or go back and face an unknown number of folks coming down the steps. In her mind, the choice was easy. She should be able to run through the front door before the old man and teen could rise from the table. Hopefully they would be drunk and slow to react.
She placed her purse strap on her shoulder and made a run for the door. She didnât see the puddle of spilled wine until she stepped in it, and her feet splayed out from under her. She went flying into the wall, legs in the air and bottom first.
The men at the table werenât slowed with drink at all. They grabbed Zoe as soon as she could get back on her feet. The older man wrapped an arm around her middle and clamped a hand over her mouth. She stomped hard on his foot, and he let go with a yell and danced away. Meanwhile, the youth grabbed her shirt, and ripped it trying to hold her back. She was almost to the door and would have made it outside if the older man hadnât knocked her down. He was heavy, and when he landed on her, he drove the air from her lungs. Gasping, she tried to push free, but the youth grabbed a foot and twisted it hard. Desperately she kicked out with the other foot and clawed at everything within her reach.
By this time, two men from the stairs rushed in to help. âGet some twine from the cellar, Clyde,â barked one of them. The youth hastened away to do his bidding. The other two knelt heavily on her and held her arms and legs with strong hands.
âGet off me,â Zoe gasped, trying to push the older man off. âYouâre suffocating me.â She strained to roll free and her hat came off, letting her hair fall loose.
âThis is no man,â yelled the old guy in surprise. âSheâs a girl!â He grinned as he pushed his ugly face against hers.
âGet off her, George,â said one of those holding her legs. He was dressed in the olive green uniform of the Republic police force.
George reluctantly climbed off her but kept his hand on her throat. âShe deserves a slap,â he said hotly. âShe stomped on my foot.â
âWho are you, girl?â asked the Greenie.
Zoe didnât answer so he gave her leg a twist. It was the same leg that had been twisted before and it really hurt. She kicked his hand loose and slapped off the hand around her throat. She fought like a wildcat, slapping and kicking whatever was close, but she couldnât get off the floor. There were too many men.
Clyde returned with the twine, and in a moment her ankles and wrists were bound. The men backed off, panting hard. There were four of them, and sheâd given them all they could handle.
âSheâs a real fighter!â said the youth admiringly.
She eyed her assailants. The teenager had a wicked-looking red scratch going down the side of his face, while the older fellow had removed his boot and was rubbing his foot. They were all winded.
âWhatâll we do with her, Fowler?â asked the other latecomer.
âIâll be delivering wine in an hour or so,â said the Greenie breathlessly. âIâll take her along and hand her over to the police. Put her in the basement until Iâm ready to go. Oh, and take that handbag away from her. She could have some identification we can use.â
Zoe was carried down the steps and deposited awkwardly on the concrete floor. Her mouth had been bound with a kerchief but her eyes were unobstructed. The dim light from the window revealed an ancient wine press and a few barrels on a rack by the wall. This could be the premium wine that was being traded.
She struggled with her bindings and found they were very tight. Fowler was taking her to the police, heâd said. When sheâd heard that, her heart had nearly stopped. Being turned over to the police chief or his deputy was a dim proposition. Both had notorious reputations.
She knew she was on her own here. Neither Rey nor Trapper even knew where she was.
Zoe calmed herself and concentrated on finding a way to get free. She rolled onto her stomach and began to work her hands back and forth inside the twine. It dug into her skin, but she gritted her teeth and pulled hard. She had small hands. Perhaps she could pull one of them through the binding. But neither would go. The binding was too tight, and it hurt.
She knew freeing her hands was her only option. The legs of her overalls came down over her boots, and the twine went around both. It would be impossible to kick off her boots and pull a bare foot through the bindings. She would have to endure the pain and pull her hand as hard as she could, and she must do it quickly. If it took her too long, her hands would swell, and pulling them free after that would be impossible. She heaved with all her strength, and this time her hand came nearly through. She took a few deep breaths and then made one more enormous effort. Her hand slipped free of the twine.
She pulled the loose twine off her other hand and reached into her pocket. There was a jackknife in it which her captors had missed. Theyâd had their hands all over her, but the knife was small and somehow theyâd missed it.
Zoe cut the bonds on her ankles and returned the knife to her pocket. Her hands ached, and she chafed them as she crept up the stairway. Her knee was hurting too, and she put most of her weight on her good leg. Halfway up, she paused a moment to listen. All was quiet.
Zoe decided to forget about her purse and head for the back window. There was no identification in it anyway, and the bag of poppy powder seemed unimportant right now. All she wanted was to get out of this house and safely across the road. She was relieved to see the living room was empty, so she slipped off her boots and tiptoed through to it to the hallway. She could hardly believe she was getting out without alerting someone. She popped through the rear window, dropped to the ground, replaced her boots and limped off through the rows of vines. It was quite dark by now, and she wouldnât be seen if she could make it across the road.
There was a wooded area just beyond the gorse bush, and she hobbled for it as fast as she could go. She had been lucky. The darkness of the night had been her saving grace. She headed through the woods in the general direction of the city. It seemed like only a minute before she heard a clamor coming from the direction of the winery building and the determined drumbeats of horse hooves on the road. Her absence had been discovered; probably when her captors had gone to collect her. She kept moving through the trees until she had to stop to rest her knee. She couldnât wait long. She wasnât safe here.
Zoe paused only a few minutes and listened for signs of pursuit. Her knee was hurting, but sheâd have to keep moving. The hideaway sheâd been staying in was near downtown, and it wouldnât be safe to go there now. The search for her would be intense since the vineyard owners knew sheâd found the bags, but they were safe from her spying for now. She wouldnât be back to bother them for a long time. And she wouldnât be breathing a word of what had just happened to Trapper or Rey.
Zoe limped to Lily Morganâs home, which took her the better part of an hour. She had met Lily in elementary school and theyâd become fast friends. She needed a friend right now; one that she could confide in and one that wouldnât yell at her for taking chances.
I recently finished reading Zoe's Puzzle Book by Glen Quarry, and let me just say, it's a thrilling adventure from start to finish. The story follows orphan Zoe, who has a strong hatred for the Sandar Republic and their leaders. Her main goals in life are simply to stay alive and to expose the deceit and dark purpose of the republic officials who threaten her existence.
One of Zoe's friends, Rey, also an orphan raised by his grandfather, aids his grandfather in their quest to locate seven enchanted talismans. These talismans have the ability to locate an ancient treasure vault, revealing secrets of a royal lineage buried long ago. The prized possession among these talismans is a puzzle book that holds the key to unlocking the treasure vault. However, it is not an easy feat as the sorcerer who hid the crown treasure when the King was killed created safeguards to ensure only the true heir could ever reclaim it.
What I loved most about Zoe's Puzzle Book was the combination of adventure and mystery. From the very first chapter, I was hooked. The author's vivid descriptions allowed me to picture every scene, from the enchanted talismans to the hidden chamber that held the treasure vault.
Furthermore, the characters were well developed and believable. I particularly admired Zoe's tenacity and determination, despite facing many challenges along the way. The author did an excellent job of portraying the relationships between the characters, especially between Zoe and Rey, and between Rey and his grandfather.
The puzzles presented in the book were engaging and thought-provoking. The author made me feel as if I was solving them alongside Zoe, and the sense of accomplishment I felt when we were successful was truly satisfying.
Overall, I highly recommend Zoe's Puzzle Book to anyone who enjoys a good adventure, mystery, and puzzles. Glen Quarry has truly outdone themselves with this book, and I cannot wait to read more from this author in the future. It was an absolutely amazing experience and deserves a four-star rating!