{"product_id":"centuryisbn-9780375857959","title":"Century","description":"\u003ci\u003eEvery hundred years, four kids from four cities must save the world\u003c\/i\u003e.Rome, December 29.A mix-up with their reservations forces Harvey from New York, Mistral from Paris, and Sheng from Shanghai to share a room with the hotel owner’s daughter, Elettra. The four kids discover an amazing coincidence—they all have birthdays on February 29, Leap Day. That night, a strange man gives them a briefcase and asks them to take care of it until he returns. Soon afterward, the man is murdered.The kids open the briefcase. In it they find a series of clues that take them all over Rome, through dusty libraries and dark catacombs, in search of the elusive Ring of Fire, an ancient object so powerful that legend says even a Roman emperor couldn’t control it.In the first book of the Century quartet, Italian author P. D. Baccalario begins a mystery that will take four cities and four extraordinary kids to solve.“The plot is masterful, with cliffhangers galore . . . and an ending that both satisfies and whets the appetite for more.”—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eP. D. Baccalario\u003c\/b\u003e was born in Acqui Terme, a beautiful little town in Piedmont, Italy. He now lives in Milan.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e THE TRAP\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Perfectly still in the darkness, twelve-year-old Elettra waits.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her  legs crossed, her hands holding the string that will set off the trap, she's sitting  stock-still. As motionless as the old wardrobes lined up around her in a series of  shadows, one darker than the next.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Elettra breathes slowly, silently. She ignores  the dust, letting it settle on her.\u003cbr\u003e Come out, come out . . . , she thinks, only moving  her lips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Shrouded in the darkness, her fingers clutching the string, she listens.  The boilers hum in the distance, pumping hot water through the pipes in the hotel  rooms. The meters tick away softly, each one at its own pace. A dusty silence reigns  over the basement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The hotel, the city, the whole world seems incredibly far away.\u003cbr\u003e It isn't cold.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It's the twenty-ninth of December.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It's the beginning. But Elettra  doesn't know that yet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e * * *\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A little noise tells her the mouse is approaching.  Tick-tack.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The sound of tiny paws on the floor, coming from somewhere in the darkness.\u003cbr\u003e Elettra slowly raises the string with a satisfied smile, thinking, The irresistible  appeal of pecorino Romano cheese.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No one can resist pecorino Romano,\" her aunt  Linda always says when she's cooking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tick-tack. And then silence. Tick-tack. Then  silence once again.\u003cbr\u003e The mouse sniffs the air, warily following the aroma's path.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He's almost in my trap, thinks Elettra, rubbing her thumb against the string. Then,  in her mind, she asks, How long is this going to take you, stupid mouse?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She's built  a simple trap: a piece of pecorino placed under a shoe box, which she's suspended  from an old umbrella shaft. A single tug will make it drop down on the mouse. The  only difficult thing is figuring out, in the dark, when the mouse has reached the  cheese.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She needs to follow her instinct. And instinct tells her it's not time yet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Elettra waits.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A little bit longer.\u003cbr\u003e Tick-tack goes the mouse. And then silence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Elettra loves moments like this. The very last moments of a perfect plan, when everything  is about to end in triumph.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She can already imagine her father's look of admiration  when he gets back from his trip in the minibus. And her aunt Linda's shrieks when  Elettra shows her the mouse, stone-cold dead, held up by the tail, as is fitting  for a stone-cold dead mouse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her other aunt, Irene, would simply say, \"You shouldn't  go down to play in the basement. It's a very dangerous maze down there.\" And then  she'd add, with a flash of cunning, \"No one knows where that maze leads.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Elettra  hasn't come down here to play. She's on a mission to catch the mouse.\u003cbr\u003e That's not  playing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tick-tack goes the mouse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And then . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Then the basement ceiling suddenly  starts quaking, rattled by a series of booms that make the bottles shake in their  wooden racks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It can't be! thinks Elettra, looking up. No, not now!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But the quaking  doesn't stop. The dust starts to stir restlessly. The pounding on the floor grows  stronger, turning into a series of furious footsteps accompanied by a voice that  grows louder. In the end, it sounds like a siren.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"EEELEEEEEETTRAAAAAA!\" the siren  howls, throwing open the door to the basement.\u003cbr\u003e A flood of light drenches the stairs,  the stacked-up furniture, the bottles of wine, the wardrobes and the statues. Elettra's  eyes dart straight out in front of her. The little gray mouse is standing there,  on its hind legs, barely a centimeter inside the shoebox.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're not getting away  from me!\" she says, tugging the string.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The box falls, but not on the mouse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No!\"  she cries.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At the top of the stairs, Aunt Linda's hand gropes around for the light  switches and flicks them all on. A dozen bulbs blink on, their blinding light driving  away all traces of darkness. They're hanging from the ceiling inside round lampshades  made out of old bottles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Elettra! Were you in the dark?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Darn it!\" she shouts,  jumping to her feet. \"He got away again!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Who got away?\" her aunt asks, baffled.\u003cbr\u003e Elettra glares at her threateningly, the umbrella shaft in her hand. \"What do you  want now?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At the top of the stairs, her aunt looks around at the basement as if  she were seeing it for the first time. \"Oh, what a mess!\" she grumbles. \"One of these  days your father and I will just have to come tidy it all up. It's just not possible,  I tell you, to have a basement in this condition!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It's as though she has completely  forgotten the reason she came down in the first place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Looking at her, Elettra feels  anger blazing up inside. Her aunt gracefully runs her hand over her thick gray hair,  without understanding the damage she's done. The shoe box is lying on the floor,  useless, and the vast stone basement is hiding a mouse who's still in perfectly good  health. The whole maze of hallways and rooms packed with things now looks dingy in  the harsh light of the bulbs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What do you want, Aunt Linda?\" Elettra shouts a second  time. And then, as the woman makes no sign of replying, she adds, \"Aunt Linda!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her aunt stares at her with her big, clear eyes. \"Elettra, dear,\" she says, perfectly  calm. \"Your father called from the airport. He says there's a problem with the rooms.  \u003cbr\u003e A serious problem.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What's wrong?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"He didn't want to tell me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So where is  he now?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Aunt Linda smiles. \"At the airport, naturally.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e * * *\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Fernando Melodia  snaps his cell phone shut. The recorded voice of an operator has just informed him  that he's out of credit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, no,\" he groans beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache.  \"Now what do I do?\"\u003cbr\u003e Beside him are the Millers, an American couple with an angry-looking  boy. They're standing tranquilly beside the sign for terminal A, watching over a  pile of giant suitcases.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They're shorter than their son, a lean, tall beanpole with  messy hair who's looking around as if he were expecting to be taken away and hanged.  Maybe he's embarrassed about how his parents are dressed: an otter-gray checked jacket  and polka-dot bow tie for him, a khaki-colored suit for her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There they are, the  Millers. They've arrived. They're pleased.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They've reserved the hotel's last available  room to spend New Year's in Rome. The professor's also here to attend an important  convention on the climate. His wife is clearly the type who loves shopping sprees.  Their son, on the other hand, seems to have been dragged here against his will.\u003cbr\u003e Fernando  sighs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So that he can be recognized as the owner of the hotel, tucked under his  arm is a sign on which he's written:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e hotel\u003cbr\u003e domus quintilia\u003cbr\u003e welcome!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That was Elettra's  idea. An excellent idea, although for a few long moments, Fernando had regretted  bringing it. He'd simply held it up and the Millers had walked right over to him,  smiling. The two adults, at least.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Handshake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It was so kind of you to come get  us,\" Mr. Miller had thanked him, leaving behind his pile of luggage carts for a moment.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Fernando returned a sheepish smile and from that point on, that smile hasn't left  his face for a moment.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A smile in which he'd gladly bury himself.","brand":"Yearling","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303027757285,"sku":"NP9780375857959","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780375857959.jpg?v=1730752790","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/centuryisbn-9780375857959","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}