Pages and Co 2: Tilly and the Lost Fairytales

by Anna James

  ‘Are you saying you would rather be the person that two evil twins are trying to steal blood from?’ she said.

  ‘No, I’m just saying that it’s a bit rude to say they don’t care what happens to me,’ Oskar said. ‘But I agree perhaps it’s not the most pressing issue, right at this moment.’ He turned back to the three adults, who were just staring at him. ‘Continue,’ he said.

  ‘Anyway,’ Tilly said to the Underwoods. ‘People will notice that we’re gone. You can’t just kill me or keep me here or whatever you’re planning.’

  ‘I’m sure that people will be ever so sad to hear that the two of you bookwandered with Gretchen and were sadly captured and eaten by the witch in the gingerbread house,’ Melville said. ‘To think that Archie and Elsie Pages were so careless as to let their only granddaughter bookwander with known rebel Gretchen Stein – such a tragedy.’

  ‘Right, enough of this,’ Gretchen said, squaring her shoulders and facing the twins.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Melville said, stepping forward. And with an abrupt push to her shoulder, he sent Gretchen stumbling backwards.

  ‘No!’ shouted Tilly in shock, jerking forward. But she wasn’t fast enough and Gretchen toppled straight into the crack in the middle of the floor, where the darkness of the Endpapers immediately swallowed her up.

  ‘What have you done?’ Oskar said in horror. ‘Did you kill her?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Decima said. ‘It’s just the Endpapers.’

  ‘But where will she go, the Underlibrary?’ Tilly said.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘So, where is she?’

  ‘Oh, floating in an endless void, I would have thought,’ Melville said. ‘Don’t worry, someone will be able to fish her out at some point probably.’ Melville’s words unstuck something in Tilly’s brain, and she grabbed Oskar’s hand and edged backwards.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ she asked him quietly.

  ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Oskar said, squeezing her hand. She took a deep breath and pulled Oskar backwards and the two fell down into the Endpapers, eyes closed, and Melville and Decima had no time to do anything but watch them disappear.

  After a few seconds the familiar wood and paper smell of the British Underlibrary reassured Tilly they were where she had expected.

  ‘Don’t even think about saying I told you so,’ she said to Oskar in the gloom of the empty office where they had landed.

  ‘I would never,’ he said.

  ‘But I’d have to take it if you did,’ she admitted. ‘I’m sorry I took us there.’

  ‘You don’t need to say sorry,’ he said. ‘I understand why you wanted to go. And we’re safe. Ish. And they can’t hide any more now we’ve seen them like that. What do we do now?’

  ‘I guess we find a phone? And tell Grandma and Grandad?’ Tilly said. ‘It’s Christmas Eve – there won’t be anyone around here.’ She ran her hands over the wall until she found a light switch that illuminated an old rotary phone on a desk. She breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up the receiver and heard a tone, then quickly dialled the number for home. ‘They won’t have even noticed we’re gone, I bet.’ But someone picked up on the very first ring.

  ‘Matilda?’ an urgent voice said.

  ‘Hi, yes, Grandad it’s me!’ she said. ‘Can you—’

  ‘Where are you? Are you safe? Where have you been? Are you with Gretchen and Oskar?’

  ‘I’m with Oskar at the Underlibrary,’ Tilly said. ‘We didn’t think you’d have noticed we’d gone yet!’

  ‘Matilda,’ her grandad said, his voice cracking. ‘It’s Boxing Day. You’ve been missing for nearly two days.’

  e’ve been so scared,’ Grandad said. ‘I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you, Tilly.’

  ‘We’re fine, I promise,’ she tried to reassure him.

  ‘Is my mum okay?’ Oskar asked, sounding panicked.

  ‘We have her here,’ Grandad said. ‘She’s okay, or she will be now we know where you are. We’ll explain everything once we’ve got you back safe. And it sounds like you’ll have a lot to tell us as well. Now, can you get to the Map Room?’

  Grandad told Tilly and Oskar to make their way to the Map Room where he and Amelia would meet them, via the secret magical passageway that linked the Underlibrary and Pages & Co.

  ‘Keep out of sight,’ he instructed. ‘Amelia says there may be a few people working today, including Seb. If you get into hot water, just ask for him and say as little as possible until we’re there. Okay?’

  Tilly and Oskar crept out into the corridor and tried to get their bearings and make their way to the Map Room.

  ‘How were we gone for two days?’ Oskar said, looking shell-shocked. ‘And what will they have told my mum?’

  ‘Do you think she’d believe the truth?’ Tilly asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea, but they must have told her something, otherwise she’d have gone straight to the police.’

  ‘What happens if she did go to the police?’ Tilly said, terrified.

  ‘I guess we’ll find out.’ Oskar swallowed nervously. ‘But right now, we need to get out of here. I have a horrible sense of direction. Do you know where we’re going?’

  ‘I think left?’ Tilly said.

  ‘I still can’t believe we were gone for days,’ Oskar repeated, not being able to wrap his head round it. ‘It only felt like an hour, if that.’

  ‘I know time goes all wonky in books,’ Tilly said. ‘But I’ve never heard of it happening like this, where time goes slower in real life.’

  ‘Probably because those Underwoods have messed everything up,’ Oskar said. ‘Will someone really be able to find Gretchen? I know she got us into that mess, but I’m not sure she deserves to be floating in … What did they call it?’

  ‘An endless void,’ Tilly supplied.

  ‘Right,’ he said, swallowing.

  ‘I’m sure Amelia will be able to help,’ Tilly said, and even though Gretchen’s betrayal was still sharp in her chest, she had to agree with Oskar that she didn’t think she should be lost in the Endpapers forever as punishment. She reminded herself that she’d been taken in by the same lies that Gretchen had, as they rounded a corner and came eye to eye with a librarian. It was Angelica, the same young woman who had stamped Grandma and Grandad after the Inking Ceremony.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she said nervously.

  ‘Uhhh …’ Tilly struggled to think of a good reason why they were wandering the corridors of the Underlibrary on Boxing Day.

  ‘We’re looking for Seb,’ Oskar said, remembering Grandad’s instructions.

  ‘Oh,’ Angelica said, still confused. ‘Well, he’s in the meeting with everyone else – it’s where I’m headed back to. I’ll take you.’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry,’ Tilly said. ‘We don’t want to interrupt a big meeting!’

  ‘But that’s where Seb is.’

  ‘We can wait!’

  ‘Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?’ she said slowly. ‘I think you should come with me.’

  Short of turning and running away, they weren’t sure what else to do. They followed Angelica down the corridor to a large room where fifteen or so librarians were sitting around a table, listening intently to Melville Underwood. He still looked middle-aged but calm and clean, with no sign that moments before he had been getting tattooed in a castle by his supposedly dead sister. He looked up as they came in, but barely reacted.

  ‘Why are there children here, Angelica?’ he asked. ‘And in their night clothes, it would seem.’

  Tilly had entirely forgotten they were still wearing pyjamas and slippers, and blushed as everyone stared at them.

  ‘I just found them wandering around,’ Angelica said. ‘They said they were looking for Seb.’ All the heads at the table turned to stare at Seb, who was looking intently at Tilly, and she assumed that he knew that they had been missing for the last two days. He gave a tiny tilt of his head, a
s if to ask if they were okay, and Tilly gave a minute nod back.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Tilly said. ‘We’ll go now.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Melville said smoothly. ‘No need to leave. Take a seat here and we can get you back home afterwards.’

  Unsure of what else to do, they sat down.

  ‘Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted,’ Melville continued. ‘I have wonderful news for you all. I am delighted and relieved beyond words to be able to share with you, my dear friends, that after many years I have heard from my long-lost sister, Decima, who we all believed to have been killed in the fairytale world.’

  Tilly and Oskar exchanged confused and worried looks.

  ‘In what feels like a miracle, not only has she managed to hide herself away in a corner of a fairy tale and survive these long years, but also to discover a way to communicate with us in the stories. And through this we know that she has done what I could not, and managed to find and subdue Enoch Chalk …’

  ‘What?’ Oskar hissed at Tilly, which earned him stares from Melville and Seb, for very different reasons.

  ‘In fact,’ Melville went on. ‘I believe that she will be able to bring him to justice any … second … now.’ And as he said it, the door swung open to reveal Decima Underwood, not dressed in her rich purple velvet robes, but in a ripped and dirty plain brown dress, with her hair tied up in a rag. Behind her was Enoch Chalk, looking smug.

  ‘Seize him!’ Melville shouted, and there was instantly chaos, as the assembled librarians had no idea what to do, and Chalk himself looked around to try to work out who was being seized. Eventually two librarians half-heartedly held on to his sleeves, and Chalk spluttered in indignation.

  ‘What is this charade, Melville?’ he said.

  ‘We hold you here under suspicion of threatening the very fabric of our stories, of killing a librarian in your escape from your Source, of holding a dearly loved bookwanderer hostage and away from her daughter, of attempting to steal a life for yourself, and of evading return to your Source Edition. You are also under suspicion of wilfully damaging fairy tales for your own ends. How do you plead?’

  ‘Well, guilty,’ Chalk said. ‘But you knew about all of that.’

  ‘Of course, we all knew of your crimes,’ Melville said. ‘And now you must answer for them.’

  ‘I am perplexed, friend,’ Chalk said, his face taking on a green hue as he realised that he had walked into a trap that he didn’t quite understand. ‘We have been working together these past months, have we not?’

  ‘Look at the lies he weaves to try and weasel his way out of the consequences of his actions,’ Melville said imperiously. Chalk started to wriggle in the hands of the librarians holding him, who held on more tightly.

  ‘You promised that you would help me!’ Chalk said. ‘You swore to me that you would share some of your book magic so I could finally be free of the magic that binds me to one book. I was promised her blood!’ he said glaring at Tilly.

  A gasp went around the room.

  ‘And so you incriminate yourself further,’ Melville said, pityingly. ‘And reveal that not only were you trying to misuse book magic for your own aims, but worse, you had plans to use the blood of a child as well?’

  ‘What is this faade, Melville?’ Chalk spluttered. ‘What do you gain by using me so ill?’

  ‘There is no personal gain here,’ Melville said. ‘Only me, fulfilling the promises I made on my election day to bring you to justice for the crimes you have just confessed to in front of all of these witnesses.’

  ‘You,’ Chalk said, jerking a hand at Tilly and Oskar. ‘You can tell them I’m not lying.’ It was as if the words were knives in his throat, having to ask Tilly for help, but he was desperate. ‘Go on, child,’ he urged. ‘You were just there, you saw what they did and what they said.’

  Tilly and Oskar stayed silent, for they had no idea what to do. They knew Melville was lying, but to side with Chalk was unfathomable. The rage that had burned inside Tilly since she found out what Chalk had done to her mother was burning brightly, and she would not say a single word that would help him.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Chalk said, realising Tilly would not help, and trying to sound calm and friendly again. ‘Melville, my friend, can we speak outside, perhaps?’

  ‘I am not your friend,’ Melville said coldly. ‘You are an enemy of British bookwandering. Your lies will not hold here any more.’

  ‘How dare you speak to me like this!’ Chalk said, flipping back to anger. ‘It is time to end this charade.’ He turned to the other librarians, who were in a state of confusion. ‘My friends,’ he tried. ‘I know that I kept things from you while I was your colleague but many of us worked alongside each other for years and years, and I have only ever had the best interests of protecting books at heart, I swear to you. All I wanted was what you all have – a life. This man, who stands before you, lying so easily, he and his sister have been hiding me for the last few months. It is they who are stealing book magic!’

  The atmosphere in the room was deeply unsettled, but Chalk’s crimes were many and known, and the betrayal the assembled librarians felt was palpable. So no one spoke in his defence.

  ‘You are simply parroting back my accusations!’ Melville said. ‘And we are out of time. My friends,’ he turned to the other librarians, ‘you are satisfied that this man is Enoch Chalk, and that he has confessed to many and varied crimes against British bookwandering?’ The librarians assented, for none of it was possible to deny. Melville nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and drew out a plain brown book.

  ‘How did you get that?’ Chalk said, fear written across his face. ‘That’s mine.’

  ‘It is not yours,’ Melville said. ‘It belongs to the Underlibrary and its gatekeepers. But regardless, the time has come for your story to end.’ And without another word, and with no warning or ceremony, Melville tossed the book into the fire burning behind him.

  Chalk let out a scream like nails down a blackboard, and everyone in the room shuddered at the awful sound. The two men holding his arms backed away, and Chalk stared at his hands in disgust, as they started to blacken and smoke. Black rivulets of liquid starting pouring from his eyes and ears.

  Tilly thought she might be sick, but she could not look away. The whole room watched in silent horror as Chalk’s skin seemed to turn into parchment before their eyes, and crackled and burned at the same rate as the book in the fire. The smell in the room was not of burning flesh, but of burning paper, and it did not take long before Chalk was no longer a man, but a small heap of smouldering ashes on the floor.

  s the embers died away, two things happened: Decima Underwood fell into a dramatic faint, and the door burst open and in came Grandad, Amelia and Bea.

  ‘Melville Underwood, I knew we would catch you at it!’ Amelia shouted. Seb shook his head desperately at her, aware that the mood of the librarians was firmly on Melville’s side since he had brought Chalk to justice. Grandad rushed over to Tilly and Oskar, making sure they were okay.

  ‘Ms Whisper,’ Melville said. ‘You were not invited to this meeting. And Mr Pages, you are not welcome in the Underlibrary, I thought I made that very clear. And you –’ he turned to Bea – ‘must be the daughter. It should go without saying, but you are not authorised to be here either. Can someone lock up our Sources, especially those with eligible men in them?’ Melville said nastily. He clearly expected a response, but from the silence it became clear that Grandad’s revoked access had not been made common knowledge.

  ‘When our granddaughter has been missing for two days, I could not give two hoots about your daft new rules,’ Grandad said.

  ‘You didn’t know where your granddaughter was for two days – over Christmas?’ Melville said, managing to make it sound like this was gross negligence on their part.

  ‘No, it wasn’t like that,’ Tilly said to the room. ‘We were bookwandering and time was lasting longer than it was supposed
to! Because they –’ she pointed at Melville, still kneeling beside Decima – ‘are breaking the fairy tales! What Chalk said was true!’

  ‘Then why didn’t you say anything earlier?’ a librarian asked, genuinely confused, and Tilly looked up to see Cassius staring at her. ‘Why did you let Chalk be destroyed if he was telling the truth?’

  ‘Because he did do all those awful things too!’

  ‘So who are you claiming is lying, child?’ Cassius said.

  ‘Both of them were!’ Tilly said. ‘But what Chalk was saying about Underwood is true! They’re breaking stories on purpose so they can steal the book magic!’

  ‘That is quite a claim to make against the Head Librarian, little girl,’ Cassius said patronisingly. ‘And I see you’re tagging along. Again,’ he said, looking at Oskar, who glared right back.

  ‘We have proof!’ Oskar shouted, and went to grab the vial of book magic, patting his pockets down but finding nothing there. ‘I swear I had it in the story!’ he said, to smirks from the librarians.

  ‘What a foolish child,’ Melville said. ‘He expects to be able to bring things out of their stories. It’s a good job that whatever you tried to steal must stay in its place,’ he said. ‘Good for you, I mean.’ And even though Tilly could feel the hard glass of the bottle in her pocket, she kept silent, praying Oskar would understand why.

  ‘Is that all?’ Melville said. ‘We’ve heard a lot of nonsense, but there’s no evidence – of anything! As far as I can see, we have a hanger-on from goodness knows where, a disgraced former Librarian – sorry, two disgraced former Librarians – and the meddling child of a bookwanderer and a fictional character suggesting … what exactly?’

  The room froze at the mention of Tilly’s parents.

  ‘What did you say, Melville?’ Cassius said.

  ‘Oh, had they been keeping that from you as well?’ Melville said silkily. ‘Why yes, Matilda’s father is Captain Crewe from the beloved children’s classic, A Little Princess. You are all aware, I am sure, of Beatrice Pages’ exploits twelve years ago, but it would appear that she was more successful than many of you know. After her failed attempt to permanently alter a Source Edition for her own selfish gains, she found a way to return to the man and, well, nine months later, there was a new bookwanderer. Archie and Elsie have obviously kept this information from you.’