The second thing he noticed was that he was still holding the Japanese lamp.
“Hey! You! Get outta here!” Brendan yelled.
He ran toward the lion, brandishing the lamp. He knew from the Discovery Channel that if people behave aggressively, a lot of wild animals get scared—people are big and they’re hard to kill.
The lion, however, did not seem to understand this fact.
“RRRRRRAAAAGH!”
It jumped off the couch at Brendan, sharp claws extended, mouth wide open. Brendan froze, preparing for the excruciating pain of having his entire face bitten off—but at the last moment, Will leaped up from behind the couch and pulled him aside.
The lion landed by the Chester chair. Will dragged a stunned Brendan out of the room with Cordelia and Eleanor as the lion tore the chair’s cushion to bits, sending balls of white cotton flying through the air, like an indoor snow storm.
“Why’s he so obsessed with that chair?” whispered Will.
“Uh . . . I hide pepperoni in that chair,” said Brendan.
Everyone looked at him.
“What? I hate pepperoni! You know that, Deal. I always ask you to order plain cheese, but nooooo! You have to get pepperoni!”
“How can you be so lazy? You know there’s this thing called compost—” said Cordelia.
“You’re not supposed to put meat in the compost, only vegetables—” said Eleanor.
“Guys, stop!” said Will. “We need to go before—”
“Hnuff.”
Will got quiet. The second lion, from outside, had entered the front door of the house and was walking toward them.
“Follow me!” Eleanor hissed, heading for the kitchen.
It was the only option. The first lion, swallowing a mouthful of moldy blue pepperoni, met the second lion in the hall and turned toward the kids. The Walkers and Will managed to close the door to the kitchen—but it was a swinging door; it wouldn’t lock! The lions charged down the hall and burst into the kitchen as the kids dashed up the spiral stairs at the back of the room. The lions followed. The Walkers and Will were only a hair’s breadth ahead of them—but the lions had difficulty navigating the curving steps. One slammed its head against the wall and shook its mane out, growling, as the other tried to leap over it and fell backward, clawing at the steps like a cat trying to climb out of a bathtub.
The Walkers and Will reached the second floor and pulled the rope for the attic stairs. Then they went into Brendan’s not-quite-a-man cave (Eleanor couldn’t help scrunching her nose; it had that older-brother smell), turned back and tried to yank up the stairs—but the lions were already climbing up!
The kids backed toward the far wall of the attic.
“We only have one option,” Cordelia said, ripping a sheet off Brendan’s San Francisco Giants desk calendar and grabbing a pen. “We have to summon the book.”
“What?” Brendan asked. “The book? Isn’t that the problem in the first place?”
“The Wind Witch was smart,” said Cordelia, and Brendan noticed that she didn’t look scared now. She looked determined, driven, like a person who would do anything to save herself—no matter the cost. “She sent us to a place where we would immediately be in danger. And the only way to get out is to summon The Book of Doom and Desire and make a wish.”
“At which point she’ll swoop in and make us use it for her,” Brendan said.
“What other choice do we have?”
“We can’t let her near that book, Deal!”
“We’ll worry about that when it happens. Okay, you guys know how this works . . . to make the book appear, we have to think selfish thoughts. So everybody! Go! Think the most selfish thoughts you can!”
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The lions covered both sides of the attic, moving forward with their heads down. Drool from their mouths hit Brendan’s dirty laundry. The last thing they probably expected was for their prey to go quiet and still, eyes closed, but the Walkers and Will began to concentrate.
Brendan: I want to be Occipus. The emperor! I would just be chilling all day if I had that kind of power. I’d never have to worry about anything. And I’d have all these people hanging on my every word. I wouldn’t even have to speak that much. I could make things happen just by my movements. The way Occipus raised his hand and everybody in the Colosseum got quiet? How cool would that be? That’s what I call power!
Cordelia: Now that the Wind Witch is out of my body, I can feel what thoughts are mine, and what were hers. And the Tutoring Program I set up, and me thinking about running for class president . . . that wasn’t her. That was me. I did a good job. I really helped people. And if I can help people at a competitive place like Bay Academy Prep, maybe I can help people on a bigger level. Why not dream really big? Harvard. Yale Law. And then politics, elections, and then . . . president! Why not? I wouldn’t even be doing it for myself, I’d be doing it for all the girls who would look up to me, and for all the women who came before, who wanted to be president when they didn’t have a chance. The history books would write about me: President Cordelia Walker!
Eleanor: I want to win that horse competition with Crow. I want to get the ribbons for us and lead Crow around in a circle with everybody cheering. And I want Ruby and Zoe there watching me—and Crow can just lift his tail and drop a big old pile of poo right in front of them. And then we can leave Bay Academy Prep, go back to our old school, and forget that any of this craziness ever happened.
Will: I want to be back in England. In my own time. Flying for my country. I want to be in a world where I belong. And I want to find my mum. I want to have tea with her, ask her all sorts of questions. I’d like to find out if I have any other family. Maybe an auntie or a grandfather. What good is a person with no roots? And I want Cordelia with me.
With a quiet, gentle rush of displaced air, The Book of Doom and Desire appeared and fell to the floor.
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Cordelia froze. It was a simple leather book, with no title, just an eye on the cover, and a stylized eye at that. It had a dot with a semicircle over it and a semicircle under it, carved into the leather. The most powerful book in the world.
Cordelia didn’t expect to feel so connected to it, but she remembered how it had been when she first opened it, how it showed her a whole new world, how it was filled with swirling half letters like nothing she’d ever seen. It had made her feel that she was learning truths she had always been denied. She had an overwhelming urge to open it right then and just lose herself in its pages, lions or no lions.
She felt something pull on her leg. Eleanor.
“Deal, stay with us! Don’t get lost again.”
Cordelia realized she was halfway toward the book, walking to it like a zombie. Then she saw Brendan. He had snatched up a pen and paper and written something. The lions were sniffing and batting at the book with their paws as if to check that it was real, but when Brendan got close they roared at him.
Brendan gulped, dove forward, and opened the book.
One of the lions swung a paw at his shoulder. Brendan felt hot pain explode down his arm. Four curved claws in his flesh! The lions bore down on him with their jaws wide as he slipped the paper in the book and closed it—
And suddenly . . . the lions made gulping, curious noises, as if something were happening to them that they couldn’t believe. It sounded like, “Mrrrrp?”
The Walkers and Will stared in disbelief.
The lions were getting fat.
It started in their midsections. The sharp ribs that Brendan had seen when they entered the house were suddenly hidden by expanding fur. The creatures’ legs, which had been thin enough for the sinuous tendons to be visible, ballooned up in seconds to the
size of elephant feet. And the lions’ faces comically doubled in width, pushing their manes out and making them look like cartoons.
“Raarrr!” one of them said to the other, in clear shock.
“What’s going on?” Will asked.
“I wrote, ‘The lions get really fat!’” Brendan explained. “I figured that’d slow ’em down and we could escape—plus the poor guys looked like they were starving.”
With howls of confusion, the lions turned and ran toward the attic exit—but they couldn’t run very well. They bounced into each other and had to squeeze down the steps, their bodies still expanding.
Cordelia ran to the window and looked outside. The lions shoved their way out the front door, moving slowly, wobbling, and breathing heavily. Roman guards smiled—the crowd cheered.
“They think we’ve been eaten!” Cordelia said. Then she started yelling and waving: “Hey! Look! We’re still here! Alive! Hello!”
When the thousands in the Colosseum saw her, they went quiet—and then started speaking excitedly among themselves, trying to figure out what was going on. If those lions didn’t have a bellyful of humans, why were they so fat?
Just then the amplified voice of Occipus’s manservant rang out across the arena.
“Emperor Occipus speaks: ‘Two African lions, turned into overweight mice by means of powerful sorcery! What sort of child witch lives inside the Hades house?’”
“Oh great,” Cordelia said. “Now I’m a witch. And a child.”
“Why are they speaking English?” Eleanor asked.
“It must be because they’re all characters in a Kristoff book, and Kristoff spoke English,” said Cordelia.
“Uh-oh,” said Eleanor. “Look!”
A dozen armed Roman guards were marching toward Kristoff House, past the lions, who had finally stopped growing and were sitting and panting, looking like giant beanbag Buddhas. Eleanor’s eyes went wide as she saw their pointy spears and armor. She was terribly scared.
Brendan sat up in pain, clutching his clawed shoulder, and saw what was happening. He tried to reassure his sister: “Don’t worry, Nell. Those guards aren’t going to hurt us. Emperor Occipus isn’t totally mean; he’s quite a character.”
“How do you know?” asked Eleanor.
“I’ve read about him,” Brendan said. “In Kristoff’s book Gladius Rex. I read the beginning of it on our last adventure. It must be one of the books we’re trapped in. And it’s not so bad. There are a lot of cool feasts in that book, and battles, and chariots . . . I’d almost like to meet the emperor. He seems really cool for a short hairless guy.”
“Bren, we need to get you home,” said Cordelia. “You’re hurt. You might be getting delirious. You’re not in a position to meet a fictional Roman emperor or anyone else.”
“But Deal . . . don’t you think it’s weird that here inside Kristoff’s books, we do such amazing things? We’re so strong, we’re like superheroes. But then back in the real world, where everything counts, we can’t even stand up to the normal stuff that happens to everybody all the time. Why?”
“I don’t know, Bren. Maybe for the same reason that Denver Kristoff wrote these books to begin with.”
“Why’s that?” Will asked, bringing one of Brendan’s T-shirts to him to try to help his wound.
“Because the real world isn’t always all that great,” Cordelia said. “It’s boring and tedious, especially if you don’t have any power. So you escape to a place where you do have power.”
Brendan said, “I want to keep escaping.”
“You can’t. We don’t belong here.”
“Why not? At least here we don’t have to go to school.”
“You do have to go to school. Only the school here is worse.”
Eleanor looked away as Will pulled Brendan’s shirt off and started wrapping the claw wound with the T-shirt he had brought. She couldn’t stand the sight of blood, and she was still worried about those Roman guards with spears outside the house. But they had stopped; they were just standing there, making sure that no one went in or out, as the crowd continued murmuring among themselves. Eleanor thought, nervous: All those people are talking about us, wondering who’s inside this house. What are they going to do when they find out it’s just three kids and a recently homeless British guy? We have to get home. And fast!
And then Eleanor looked at The Book of Doom and Desire. There’s our way home. Right there! All I have to do is write a wish and slip it inside. Then this can all be over. No more hungry lions, no more bleeding Brendan . . .
She grabbed another sheet off Brendan’s desk calendar and a pen. She walked toward the book—and as she got closer to it, it seemed to get bigger, almost as if it were expanding in her mind. Eleanor didn’t want to admit it, but the book had the same effect on her that it did on Cordelia. It called to her, told her that it had power inside, tempted her. Fine, let it try to get me, because I’m going to use it, for good, she thought—but just as she was about to reach it, a strong blast of air knocked her to the ground.
Eleanor tensed up. It wasn’t fear that filled her anymore, but anger. She knew who had done that. She didn’t even have to turn around. But she did.
The Wind Witch was in the attic with a big smile on her face.
“Well done, children,” she said. “You summoned the book. And now, little Eleanor, I have a wish for you to place in it.”
The Wind Witch held up a piece of paper.
It said: Dahlia Kristoff shall rule the world.
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Well, at least you’re consistent,” said Brendan, reading the note. “That’s the same psycho thing you always wish for—”
“Silence!” the Wind Witch said. “I’m speaking to your sister.”
Eleanor was in a panic. Sweat poured out of her forehead. The Wind Witch was even scarier than before, because she had fastened two new chrome hands onto her stubs: One hand was positioned with the finger and thumb pinched together, holding the note; the other was shaped like a fist. Eleanor stayed right where she was, on the floor, staring, and her thoughts started running in a loop: What do I do what do I do how do we get out of this what do I do?
“Do you actually expect us to help you?” Brendan said. He didn’t seem to be scared, but Eleanor knew it was an act. Just as her response to the Wind Witch was to become extremely tense and speechless, Brendan’s was to run off his mouth. “The curse that keeps you from getting close to that book is the best idea your father ever had. Maybe his only good idea. And you want us to put that lame wish, ‘Dahlia Kristoff shall rule the world,’ inside the book for you? Do you think we’re idiots?! If we do that, it’s kind of like we mess up the entire earth. No thanks.”
“Maybe I can change your mind,” said the Wind Witch, staring at Brendan’s bandage. “Pain can be so persuasive.”
The Wind Witch extended a chrome hand. A gust of air swirled out and blew off the T-shirt that was bandaging Brendan’s shoulder. Brendan felt the sharp pain of the skin around his wound separating, letting cold air touch the inside of his flesh . . . it was like being pierced by hundreds of sharp needles. He couldn’t help but scream. Eleanor wanted to scream too, but she bit her tongue. Her heart was thudding inside her, shaking her whole body . . . but she had to be brave. Maybe she could do something. Maybe she could turn her fear into something useful. She started to think of a plan as her sister yelled, “Stop!”
Cordelia faced the Wind Witch. “Stop, please! Don’t hurt my brother. We’ve been through enough. We’ll do what you want.”
“What?” Brendan said.
“I’m tired of fighting, Bren. I want to go back. I want to see Mom and Dad again. Don’t you?”
“You can’t negotiate with the Wind Witch, Deal! She’s like a terrorist. Only worse.”
“I am negotiating with her,” said Cordelia, turning back
. “Dahlia, is it really necessary that you rule the entire world? Couldn’t you just wish for maybe being president of the United States? I mean, I might be running for class president next year—”
“I’m well aware of that,” said an annoyed Wind Witch.
“Then you know how important that is to me,” said Cordelia. “But being president of the United States . . . that would be a whole lot of power . . . leader of the free world and all . . . and you’d be the first woman president—”
“You’re a bright girl, Cordelia,” said the Wind Witch. “But you think small. I want to rule the entire world!”
“Okay,” said Cordelia. “So let’s say you do get your wish . . . what happens to us?”
“A world ruled by me will have a very special place for you three,” the Wind Witch said. She was smiling wider than Cordelia had ever seen. “I’ll never forget that you did a favor for me. You’ll always be with your parents, always be happy, always be rich. You won’t have a care in the world.”
“And what about Will?” Cordelia continued. “You’d need to give him what he wants.”
Cordelia took Will’s hand, which she thought Will might really like. But Will shook his hand away.
“Don’t touch me. You’re colluding with the enemy. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Cordelia gave Will a quick look that said: Trust me. Eleanor saw it too. And then Cordelia glanced at Eleanor, as if to say, Your move! Eleanor realized then that her big sister didn’t mean to work with the Wind Witch at all. She had only been buying time for Eleanor, who was closest to The Book of Doom and Desire. Which was good, because Eleanor had a plan.
Eleanor had written on the calendar paper she tore off, being as quiet as she could, worrying that the sound of the pen itself would alert the Wind Witch. She couldn’t misspell any words either. She crept toward the book.
Cordelia stepped forward and took the Wind Witch’s note. “It would be my honor to make your wish come true,” she said. Dahlia Kristoff bowed her head to Cordelia, a solemn look on her face. Cordelia returned a grateful smile, even though she had no intention of doing what the Wind Witch desired. She was a better politician than perhaps any of them realized.
House of Secrets: Battle of the Beasts Page 10