by James Riley
The man just looked at Owen, then glanced back down into the file. He closed it now and laid it on the table, then folded his hands on top of it, giving Owen an unreadable look. “I’m Inspector Brown,” he said finally. “From the city.”
The city? Which city was that? But that could wait.
“I’m Owen Conners,” Owen said, sticking out his hand.
The inspector glanced down at Owen’s hand, then shook his head. “I hate to say it, but you’re in a lot of trouble here, Owen Conners. We’ve got a witness claiming you set fire to the library where your mother works. I’m told the lab boys are pulling prints now, but preliminary work suggests they’re yours.”
“But I didn’t do it!” Owen shouted, standing up. “I saw the guy who did it! He admitted that he was framing us! And he kidnapped my friend!”
“Can you describe this person?” the detective said, his hands still folded.
“Yes! He’s wearing some kind of weird white mask with a question mark on it.” Owen paused, realizing how this sounded. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. And a Sherlock Holmes hat and coat.”
“A deerstalker hat,” the inspector said.
“What?”
“It’s called a deerstalker hat, the hat that Sherlock Holmes was rumored to have worn. Not that he ever appeared in photos that way.” His hands still hadn’t moved, not even to jot down a note. This didn’t seem to be going that great.
“You don’t believe me,” Owen said, falling back into his chair hard.
“Oh, I know who you’re referring to,” the inspector said. “But considering his history with the force and me in particular, I’d find it pretty hard to believe that he’s been setting any fires.”
What? History with the force? How would a fictional character have—
“Yo, Wikipedia,” said a police officer, opening the door. “No sign of the other suspect. We think he got away.”
The inspector flinched. “I’ve asked you all not to call me that,” he said, and the police officer just smirked, then shrugged and shut the door. The inspector shook his head, turning back to Owen. “Sorry. They think it’s funny because of my childhood nickname. Owen, do you know where your friend, this Gnomenfoot boy, might have gone? Things might go easier for you if you cooperate.”
“He didn’t do it either!” Owen shouted. “Don’t you get it? We’re being framed! I don’t even know why, because none of it makes sense, but I saw this masked guy with my own eyes. He set the fire, not us. Kiel and I almost blew up! Why would we do that to ourselves?”
The detective stared at Owen for a moment, then sighed. “I’ve spoken to your mother, Owen. Would you like to know what she told me?”
Owen flinched. “Probably not?”
“She claims you’re home in bed right now, at this moment. Said she was looking right at you.” The inspector raised an eyebrow. “Now, I don’t know what to make of that. Do you?”
She’d said what? Why would his mother lie like that? Or was there some way Kiel had cast a magic spell to make it look like Owen was still in his bed? What was happening ?
Owen concentrated as hard as he could, trying to remember anything from earlier that night. Fighting through the fog in his brain to get to an actual memory was like trying to punch actual fog, though: it wasn’t accomplishing anything, and probably made him look really stupid.
“Tell me about this Kiel Gnomenfoot boy,” the inspector said. “We don’t have any record of him, either. Did he put you up to this in some way?”
“No, he’s a good guy,” Owen said, his mind racing. Why couldn’t he remember leaving that night? Kiel’s magic was so annoying sometimes! “He’d never do anything like this either. We both just want to find our friend.”
“Bethany Sanderson,” the detective said. “You’re right that there’s no record of her, either. No one in your school by that name. No one in this city, even.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not even a library card.”
How was that possible? Owen’s mind raced, launching through all kinds of different explanations. Was he going insane? Had he dreamed Bethany this entire time? Was this all a dream now?!
He pinched himself hard and jumped at the pain. Well, at least he was awake. But how could there be no record of Bethany? “That can’t be true,” Owen said, almost pleading with the inspector. “She’s my friend! I’ve known her for . . . well, for just a couple of months. I think. But I’ve seen her for longer, in class, in school. She exists !”
The inspector sighed. “I don’t know why you’re lying, kid, but this is getting us nowhere,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell me how this all started. From the beginning.”
“I don’t know!” Owen said, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t—”
But just like that, a memory hit him like a hammer, and he did know.
MISSING CHAPTER 2
One month ago . . .
The library was silent, with just one light left on in the back by the study tables, which were all covered in books. As if by itself, one of the books opened, and a cartoon hand pushed its way out, followed by two lines for an arm and a doodle of a head.
“So weird!” Bethany said as she emerged, her mouth in the shape of a large O, while her ponytail lines bounced behind her. She used her cartoon hands to pull herself all the way out of the book, then reached in to pull out two more life-size doodles.
“But so fun!” Owen said, a smile line stretching from one side of his round head to the other. “Look at this!” He yanked on the lines that made his body, then released them, letting them twang back into place. “It’s like they’re rubber bands!”
“I know I agreed to this,” said Kiel, “but when you said ‘diary,’ I can’t say I was expecting that.” He held one cartoon hand up to his circle mouth as if he might vomit.
“Turn us back already, will you?” Bethany told Kiel, gesturing with her four pudgy fingers for him to hurry. “The last thing I want to do is figure out how to go to the bathroom like this.”
“Wait!” Owen said as Kiel raised his cartoon hands into the air, holding two straight lines that were his wands. “Just give me, like, five more minutes. I want to see how far I can pull my arms out before they snap back.”
Bethany sighed and shook her head. “That is the last time we go into an Owen book,” she whispered to Kiel. “The last time.”
Kiel waved his wands, and he and Bethany both immediately turned back into their normal selves, Bethany in jeans and a T-shirt, her red hair in a ponytail, Kiel wearing all black, with his cape and wand-knife holsters.
Owen, still a cartoon, grinned widely as he began tying one arm to the table leg.
“So?” Kiel said to Bethany as he took deep breaths, thankfully not looking quite so sick anymore. “Are you ready now? You said we should all pick one adventure to have before we do this, and we’ve done that. Some were . . . odder than others, but . . .”
Bethany couldn’t help smiling at Owen slowly pulling his body away from the table, grunting as the arm tied to the table began stretching. “Everyone has their own idea of fun.”
“At least mine didn’t almost get us eaten,” Owen said, then returned to his pulling.
“By fake dragons, no less,” Kiel pointed out.
“They’re called dinosaurs,” Bethany said with a sigh. “And unlike dragons, they actually were real here. But now they only exist in stories, so I wanted to see them. I still feel like you two missed the entire point of that.”
“My arm’s taller than I am!” Owen said, and turned to show them, only to have his arm snap back, yanking him with it right into the table. Owen hit hard enough for little stars to pop out above his head as his pupils turned around and around in his eye circles. “Owwww,” he moaned as Bethany and Kiel just lost it.
It took a few minutes before Bethany could even speak, and even then she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Please do that again?” she said, her voice still high-pitched from all her laughing. �
�I vote you stay in cartoon form for the rest of the night, and just do that over and over.”
“Mean,” Owen said, his frown filling up his face. “Fine, turn me back.”
“You don’t want to try using your body as a bow and arrow first?” Bethany asked.
“I mean, yes, but not if you’re going to make fun of me for it,” Owen said, and nodded at Kiel. The magician, still laughing, mumbled the spell and Owen instantly turned back to his normal self. He pushed himself to his feet, then held out both arms in front of him, frowning. “Does the right one still look longer?”
“Definitely,” Bethany said, wiping the smile from her face. “Like, by at least a few inches.”
“Are you serious?” Owen said, frantically trying to measure them. “Kiel, turn me back, quick. I need to fix this!”
“So are you ready?” Kiel asked Bethany, ignoring Owen. “You promised we’d do the spell tonight. We can’t keep putting it off forever.”
Bethany’s joy faded, and a chill went through her body. “Are you sure you don’t want to jump in another story? We could each pick another one. . . .”
Kiel grabbed Bethany’s shoulders and turned her around, giving her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry,” he told her quietly. “Your father is fine, wherever he is. I’ll use the location spell, we’ll jump into whichever book he’s in, and that’ll be that. You’ll have your dad back home by morning.”
“It might even be more than a few inches,” Owen said, squinting at his arms.
Bethany winced. “If my father’s okay. And if he even wants to come back.”
“Of course he will,” Kiel told her, giving her a confused look. “How could he ever not want to see his daughter?”
Bethany swallowed hard, not wanting to think of all the reasons. She’d come up with a long list over the last few days, ever since she’d jumped Kiel back into his series to retrieve his old practice spell book. Owen and Kiel had wanted to use the location spell that same night to find her father, but she’d convinced them that they should all pick one last story, since bringing her father back would definitely put an end to their adventures. It was hard enough to hide what she’d been doing from her mother. Her father showing up would pretty much get her grounded for a few hundred years.
But that wasn’t the real reason. There were too many bad ways this could go, and now that it was finally here, she half expected the worst. Maybe even three-fourths.
“We can still wait if you’re truly not ready,” Kiel said, but Bethany could see him practically dancing from foot to foot, anxious to finally get on with it.
“No, let’s just do it. I’m ready enough.” Kiel seemed to believe her lie, so she turned to Owen, who was trying to shove his arm toward his shoulder. “Can you be serious for a second? We’re doing this.”
Owen flashed a look at her, then straightened up immediately and nodded. “Totally serious. Not that my arm being longer isn’t serious too, but that can wait. Though really, not for much longer.” Still holding one arm, he led the other two to the center of the library, where Bethany turned to look at Owen and Kiel.
“I’ve used this spell before,” Bethany told them. “When I cast it in the Magister’s tower to find Jonathan Porterhouse, the spell created a little ball of light that floated off to the right book. So just be ready to follow it, okay?”
Kiel looked hurt. “I have used my magic before, you know.” Bethany glared at him, and he shrugged. “But sure, we’ll do what you say.” He then winked at Owen, who giggled, which managed to make her more irritated.
Kiel pulled a wand from its sheath and began to speak the words for the location spell, as Bethany’s hands and feet both turned to ice. What if her father wasn’t alive? Or what if he was, but he’d moved on and had a new family? Or what if he’d been trapped this entire time, tortured by some evil villain, all because of her? Her heart beat so quickly she almost couldn’t think straight.
But then a small ball of light appeared right in front of Kiel’s wand, and Bethany stopped breathing completely.
All three of them leaned forward, waiting to see where it’d go. The ball hung in place for just a moment, then jumped toward the mysteries section.
Bethany’s heart leaped into her throat, and she took a step to follow it, only to stop as the light paused in midair. It seemed to shake just a bit, then move toward the romance books.
Then it paused again and just quivered in midair, like it wasn’t sure where to go.
“What’s it doing?” Owen whispered.
“I don’t know, I’ve never seen this before,” Kiel whispered back.
The ball trembled harder and harder and began to glow brighter as it did, the light soon becoming hard to look at. As it shook, smaller balls of light exploded out of the original, flying off in every direction. First dozens, then hundreds, maybe even thousands of balls filled the air, so bright that Bethany could barely see anything, as if the sun had just appeared in the middle of the room.
“Turn it off!” Owen shouted. “Someone’s going to see!”
Kiel shouted some magic words, but the balls of light kept popping out of the first one, then flying off into every corner of the library. Finally, the original ball flew off as well, and the three kids covered their eyes as best they could to see where the light balls had gone.
They didn’t have to look far.
Each and every book in the library had a ball of light directly in front of it.
Every single book.
Bethany’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Somewhere in the distance a siren began blaring, and Owen grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door of the library. She stumbled after him as Kiel followed, behind them the location spells fading away into nothing.
None of them said another word as they quietly made their way into the bushes beside the library while a police car slowly pulled up. The police officer shined his light into the now-dark building, then shrugged and got back into his car. A moment later he pulled away, and Kiel and Owen both turned to Bethany, their eyes filled with questions.
“I knew it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I knew it. It never works. Nothing does. This is my fault, and he’s never coming back.”
“Bethany,” Kiel started to say, but she shoved him away.
“NO!” she shouted. “I’m done, do you hear me? I give up! I can’t do this anymore! I just . . . I can’t take this. He’s gone and he’s never coming back. And I’m done! Leave me alone!”
And with that, she turned and ran, the cold wind whipping her face so hard she found it covered in tears by the time she got home. Once there, she snuck up to her room, locked the door, and screamed as loudly as she could right into her pillow, until her throat hurt and she saw spots in front of her eyes.
Finally, she reached under her bed, grabbed a specific book, and dove right in, not wanting to spend another minute in the real world.
CHAPTER 16
01:29:56
With water reaching almost to her knees, Bethany rocked the chair left and right as hard as she could. Finally, momentum sent her over the edge, crashing the chair onto its side and spraying water in every direction.
“AH!” she shouted as the cold water splashed over her from head to toe. Why did it have to be cold? Couldn’t this stupid death trap at least have had warm water?
She bent forward in the chair, trying to see where the ropes were attached from her ankles to the chair. As far as she could tell, it looked like the ropes had been tied to the chair’s feet. She managed to slip the knots down off the chair legs, then pulled her legs up to her and untied the ropes, freeing her ankles.
Unfortunately, the chains around her wrists were a different story. They looked to be bolted to the chair legs somehow.
She groaned, then took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. There had to be a way out of this. She pulled on the chains, but the chain links bit into her wrists painfully the harder she pulled, and when she tried grabbing the chain itself
, she found it was far too slippery to hold on to. Wrapping the chain around her hand was even more painful than just pulling with her wrists.
After a few minutes of experimenting, she pushed her head into the arm of the chair and screamed as loud as she could.
“You seem to be having some difficulty,” said a strange voice from somewhere behind her. Bethany instantly looked up, but saw no one.
“Who’s there?” she said, not liking how vulnerable she felt, chained up and about to drown.
“Nobody important,” the voice said. “I do think it’s time we had a little chat, if you don’t mind.”
Bethany wanted to laugh. A little chat? Who was this? “Did Doyle send you?”
“No,” the voice said. “He has no idea that I’m here.”
“He does now,” Bethany said. “He’s got cameras all over this place.”
“He won’t see me,” the voice said. “I’m here to speak to you. Alone.”
That sounded promising. Either that, or he was going to kill her. “Could you help me, then? Get these chains off of me?”
“You can get out yourself. We both know you can.”
Bethany eyes widened in surprise, and again, she tried to turn to look at whoever was speaking to her. She caught the briefest glimpse of what looked like the top of a bald head before whoever it was pulled back out of sight. “Who are you?” she said, not entirely sure she wanted to know.
“I already told you. Nobody of consequence. But I’m not here to talk about me. We need to discuss your trips into the fictional world, Bethany.”
Even with the freezing water, somehow that statement made Bethany feel even colder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, trying not to show how terrified she was.
“Yes, you do,” the voice said. “And the trips need to stop. You’re never going to find what you’re looking for.”
“And what’s that?” she asked slowly, her heart racing. “What am I looking for?”
“Your father,” the voice said, and Bethany almost stopped breathing. “What you’re doing is dangerous, girl. Far more dangerous than you realize. There are people in the fictional world who’d do anything to find you, if they learned of your existence. For now, they’re unaware, but every time you enter a story, every time something like this happens, you create ripples.” She heard the person dip what she imagined was a hand into the water, then watched as small waves passed by the chair. “Too many ripples, and people start to notice.”