“What are you doing?” Cordelia said—and then two quick bursts of air shut her mouth so tight, all she could do was scream into her own lips.
The Wind Witch tightened her brow. She was concentrating with inhuman precision. She waved her stumps to keep her victims suspended in place as she began to flap around them.
Whoosh—she passed Cordelia’s terrified face. Whoosh—she flew by again. She was circling faster and faster, but always bending her neck to stare at Cordelia and the others, never losing focus.
“Nnnnn—!” Cordelia screeched through her forcefully closed mouth. It was like being on an amusement park ride gone terribly wrong.
The Wind Witch swished by again and again, creating a nauseating strobe effect, blurring—until her parched, patchy face seemed to become the center of a hall of mirrors. She was surrounding Cordelia from every angle at once. Screaming.
“That you will find what you so carelessly lost! That I shall have what I deserve!”
Cordelia tried to close her eyes, but the rushing air kept them open, making tears fly out and spiral behind her.
Then she began to experience a horrible shrinking.
It happened to all the kids. Their bones tightened. Their skin clenched around them. Their organs pressed painfully against one another. Their eyes grew smaller—and the Wind Witch’s omnipresent face, and the room, grew larger.
Everything was spinning now. The house itself howled as it moved with the Wind Witch: The Chester chair had become a brown blur, the fireplace was disappearing and reappearing like a smear of brick—and the shrinking continued. Cordelia and the others were diminishing in size, becoming the size of Chihuahuas, of mice, of peas.
Cordelia looked below her. Three books floated there. She couldn’t read the titles because they were distorted, too gigantic, getting bigger every second. They were like ridges on textured terrain, the way book titles might appear to a fly, or an ant, or . . .
How small are we getting? Cordelia asked herself. And why is it different this time? We’re being sucked into those books like a milkshake being sucked through a straw.
It angered Cordelia that she couldn’t read any of the books’ titles as she hit one—and then all was dark and silent.
Cordelia woke up on the floor in the living room. Next to her were Will, Eleanor, and Brendan, also coming to. She blinked and got up on one elbow as she became conscious of a noise. It sounded like the cheers of a football game.
“Brendan?” she asked. “You okay?”
“The Wind Whacko knocked me out as soon as I walked in the front door,” he said, looking around. “Oh, no, no . . . did she do it again?”
“That’s an affirmative,” said Will.
“She banished us?” asked Eleanor.
Brendan nodded. “Just like last time.”
“But last time the whole house got destroyed,” Eleanor pointed out. “This time she kept the furniture and everything else pretty much in place.”
“I can’t believe she did this on a weekend,” complained Brendan. “I’m not even getting to miss school.”
“I’d like to know what world we’ve been sent to,” said Will.
“Three of Kristoff’s books again,” said Cordelia. “I saw them right before I blacked out.”
“Did you see the titles?”
“Couldn’t make them out.”
“Maybe we got sent to the same place as last time,” Brendan said, “and now we have a serious advantage. We know how to deal with Slayne; we know how to handle the pirates—”
“But if it’s like last time, doesn’t that mean Will is going to fly in on a plane and save us?” Eleanor said. “That would make two Wills!”
“Two of me,” Will said, intrigued by the idea. “Hmmm, that could be fortuitous.”
“How’s that?”
“Two strong, handsome leaders are better than one.”
“One egomaniac is plenty,” said Cordelia. “Besides, I think we’ve been sent somewhere new. Because what’s that noise?”
“Yeah,” Eleanor said. They could still hear a crowd. Outside the house. “Are we in the middle of a football game?”
They all paused for a moment and listened. The sound of the crowd surrounded the entire house. But all the windows and shutters were closed. The Walkers and Will seemed trapped like mice in an experiment.
Cordelia headed for the nearest window. “Do we have a weapon?”
Will looked around, made fists. Eleanor did the same.
“Fists?” said Brendan. “Really? It sounds like there’s a thousand people out there, and what are we going to do, punch them?”
“Have you got a better idea?” asked Will.
Brendan paused, looked around, and picked up a small Japanese table lamp, holding it like a mini baseball bat.
“Of course,” said a sarcastic Will. “Lamps happen to be quite effective at stopping angry mobs.”
“Shut up, Will.”
“All right, let’s do this,” Cordelia ordered. She was about to open the window when she noticed Will staring at her. “What?”
“You’re taking charge. It suits you.”
“It’s cute?”
“No. It suits you. But it is cute.”
“Will, listen,” Cordelia said, stepping away from the window. “I know I haven’t been myself so maybe you forgot who you’re dealing with. But I’m not interested in being trapped in mystical worlds for the rest of my life. I need to get back home, to go to school. So we’re going to see what’s out there, secure the house, get The Book of Doom and Desire as soon as possible, and get out. No adventures.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Will said, saluting.
“I’m not an old lady, don’t call me that.”
“But wait, Deal,” Eleanor said. “If we get the book, won’t we be doing exactly what the Wind Witch wants us to do?”
“If it gets us home, Nell? I don’t care.”
Brendan was tired of everybody talking. He ran off and yanked open the window Cordelia was at, which usually had a gorgeous view of the Golden Gate Bridge. Then he completely stopped, frozen, at the incredible sight he was looking at.
At the same time, someone grabbed Cordelia’s leg.
Eleanor pointed at the entrance to the living room. “L . . . Li . . .”
Brendan stared out the window. “Guys? I think we’re in a . . .”
But he didn’t need to say it. Cordelia suddenly understood what the crowd noise was.
Facing her at the front of the living room, with its shoulders up and knotted, sniffing, was a full-grown lion.
“Oh my—” Cordelia started.
“How did that get in here?!” Will yelled, flabbergasted.
“Hide!” said Eleanor.
Cordelia grabbed her sister and ran for the couch. But Brendan had no idea about the lion; he couldn’t even hear his sisters and Will yelling. He was completely engrossed by the incredible view outside.
He was looking at the Roman Colosseum.
From smack-dab in the center of the arena.
The Colosseum was gorgeous, splendid, majestic. Giant outcroppings of stone held seats containing tens of thousands of people. It was like the Giants’ baseball stadium in San Francisco, but so much older and more beautiful—in fact, it made that stadium look cheap. And Brendan was right where the pitcher’s mound would be! This was the real deal: No one had gotten a chance to see the Colosseum this way for thousands of years, and here Brendan was, right in the middle of it.
He’d always wanted to see the Colosseum. There wasn’t a cooler building in world history. When you were talking about ancient Rome, you were talking about plumbing, voting, and death by countless stab wounds. . . . The Romans were the definition of “ahead of their time.” And this building was the one place people always talked about when they talked about Rome. It was like the Super Bowl and the Olympic Village rolled into one!
Brendan saw men in white togas in the stands, with some of the togas so white that they seeme
d to be bleached and hurt his eyes, and others with red stripes. There were a few purple togas, decorated with gold, but only the men who sat close to the arena wore them. There weren’t any women, except in the nosebleed seats at the very top, where Brendan saw a few dressed in flowing robes that resembled what the Statue of Liberty wore.
Everyone was cheering at the top of their lungs, on their feet, pointing at Kristoff House. And why wouldn’t they? We just showed up in the middle of an event!
Two deer were cornered with spears at one side of the arena, but the warriors holding the spears weren’t paying attention to the deer anymore. The animals leaped away. The warriors stared at Brendan with open mouths. They’re looking at the house! Another group in tunics with bows and arrows were putting their weapons down, calling and pointing. Clearly some kind of mock hunt had been going on—but it was on hold for now.
Brendan’s eye flicked to a man seated in what Brendan would call one of the Colosseum’s end zones, high up in a sealed-off box. That has to be the emperor, Brendan decided. The man wore a garish purple toga with a dash of white and a golden crown lined with sparkling jewels. He was extremely short, under five feet tall, and nearly that wide. Soft and delicate, with eyes set too far apart and completely without hair, he stood and waved one hand at the crowd as if he were shooing away an insect.
The crowd went silent.
Man, Brendan thought, that is one powerful dude.
The man began to speak, but of course no one could hear him. He was one small (tiny, really) figure in a huge arena. So a manservant next to him stepped up to a giant bronze cone mounted on a tripod. The cone acted as a primitive megaphone, amplifying the manservant’s voice throughout the Colosseum.
“Speaks Emperor Occipus the First!” the manservant declared. “‘Do not be frightened by this odd structure! It is the work of enemy sorcerers, a hell house conjured from Hades! But I, your emperor, will protect you. If there are monsters in the house, I will exterminate them! Send in another beast!’”
Emperor Occipus, Brendan thought. I’ve heard that name before. . . .
A metal gate below Emperor Occipus’s box winched open. From the dark inside, two guards with helmets and whips emerged, leading out a lion.
“Uh-oh,” Brendan said. “Uh, incoming, twelve o-clock . . .”
That was when he realized: He hadn’t heard from his sisters or Will in a long time.
Brendan whirled around. What had he been doing? He’d just been geeking out about ancient Rome, completely forgetting that he was trapped here, in deep doo-doo—
He saw the lion in the living room. It was as big as the one outside, nosing at the cushions on the couch. Cordelia, Eleanor, and Will were hiding behind that couch, completely still, trying not to breathe. But the lion had caught their scent; it jumped on the couch, sniffing for them.
Bren! Cordelia mouthed. Her face looked utterly terrified. Brendan hated to see her in such a panic. She had already been through so much. Couldn’t somebody give them all a break? It wasn’t fair to send a bunch of kids through these horrible problems. They would turn out disturbed, changed.
Do something! Cordelia mouthed.
Brendan had no idea what to do, but then he noticed two things: First, the lion didn’t look like the healthiest specimen in Rome. It was thin, with ribs visible through its chest, and its mane was mangy and buzzing with flies. It should probably be reported to the ASPCA, Brendan thought.
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 snowstorm.
“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 them!
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!”
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 . . . tha
t 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.
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.
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