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Authors: Carole Cummings

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“Right,” said Lucas. He shooed them out of the way and stepped up to the stone. “Alex had a good point a moment ago,” he said absently as he reached up and slid his hands over the stone, this time dipping his fingers into the chinks in the masonry and
really
looking.

There was silence behind him for a moment, then Alex snapped, “
What
? It happens sometimes.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “The thing is, since Parry doesn’t have magic, and since he was the only one who could have hidden the book here—if it is, indeed, here—then it stands to reason that the stones don’t need magic to move them.” Stretching and reaching, standing on his tiptoes to do it, Lucas slipped his fingers over a tiny dip between the stones he hadn’t examined closely before because he hadn’t expected to find anything. With all the magic flying around lately, Lucas supposed he’d assumed the answers to any magical puzzles would also be magical. But the edges of the very unmagical depression were too smooth, its shape too rounded. Carefully, Lucas stretched even more and felt around it, mapped its shape, and when he was nearly certain it was what he thought it was—because, now that Alex had thought of it, why have a secret hiding place without a secret and overly dramatic way to open it?—Lucas pushed it.

Nothing happened.

With a frown, Lucas stepped back.

“A decent try,” Laurie said, though it was somewhat superior and smirky. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping back so those of us with actual magic can—?”

A deep and distinct grating screech cut him off, and he jerked back, nabbing Lucas by the sleeve and yanking him out of the way just as the massive stone slid out from its fellows and rumbled toward Lucas’s toes. Lucas yelped and stumbled back into Laurie, who was still tugging at him, and a good thing, too, because the stone wasn’t stopping. With a shout and a heave, Laurie swung Lucas around and shoved him to the side then scrambled after him. The massive block ground against the floor, a growling, lurching slide, until it finally settled a good several feet out toward the center of the large tower room.

Alex was there, dragging Laurie away from where he had Lucas pinned to the wall next to the opening the stone had made and checking him over with frantic looks and “Good
God
!” and “Are you all right? Say something!”

Lucas’s ears were ringing a little and his legs were somewhat shaky, but he had all his toes—he checked—and everyone else seemed to be in one piece, so he nodded.

“Never,
ever
push buttons unless you know what they do!” Alex barked.

“Yeah,” wheezed Lucas. “Right. Never, ever.”

And he meant it too. Because the stone was massive and it hadn’t been about to stop until it got to where it intended to go, and if Laurie hadn’t dragged Lucas out of the way….

Lucas gave a still panting Laurie a pat on the cheek. “Thank you, cousin.”

Laurie’s half smile was shaky. “I’d say ‘anytime’, but….”

“Right.” With a long, calming breath, Lucas edged around the stone and peered into the dark alcove it had revealed. “That’s it,” he breathed. “It’s got to be.” He slipped in just enough to get hold of the book and pulled it out.

Alex and Slade and Laurie all gathered ’round him to have a look.

“Huh,” said Laurie after a long moment of simply staring at the plain leather binding. He cocked an eyebrow when they all looked at him expectantly, and he waved at the book. “I guess I thought it would be more… impressive.”

Lucas had to agree—it was rather nondescript for something apparently so important—but another thought occurred to him, and now he wondered why it hadn’t before: “How did Parry even know this hiding place was here?”

“I showed it to him,” came from the doorway, and they all jerked their glances up to see Cráwa standing there, staff up and pointed their way, with Mister Scontun right behind him.

“Oh no,” Lucas rasped and clutched the book tightly to his chest. “Are they working together now?”

Why?

How
?

Hadn’t they been whipping magic at each other down at the Circle? And didn’t they both want the Key for very different reasons?

Alex edged in front of Lucas while Laurie straightened his shoulders and slid his hand behind his back, a new ball of glowing energy forming in his palm. Slade only looked paralyzed and uncertain for a moment, but with a significant look from Laurie, he too put a hand behind his back and the crackle of energy and the scent of ozone rose from him in an instant.

Cráwa looked unimpressed, but he did narrow his eyes, and the ball on the top of his staff began to glow blue. Mister Scontun said something; Lucas didn’t know what, but it made Slade suck in a long, deep breath and set his jaw.

Which was probably not a good sign.

Bramble, who’d been so quiet since Slade had put him to sleep that Lucas had actually forgotten he was there, stirred and stretched and thumped his tail, then sat up straight with his ears pricked. He took in Cráwa and Mister Scontun, then looked over at Lucas.

“Get ’em,” Lucas whispered and jerked his chin toward Cráwa and Mister Scontun. “Go on, boy, get ’em. Attack!”

He’d never commanded Bramble to do any such thing before, but it had to be worth a try. And while Bramble was not, in fact, the vicious beast he could sometimes pretend to be, he really was awfully good at pretending. And while he was doing that pretending, perhaps they could all get past Cráwa and Mister Scontun, or at least find a way to keep them away from the book.

They all watched as Bramble lumbered to all fours and set himself in the middle of the Library between Lucas and his little group, and Cráwa and Mister Scontun. The magic hovering in the air, all set and ready to strike, hummed and crackled lightly and fluffed out Bramble’s fur until he was almost twice his already considerable size.

It was tense, everything balanced on the sharpest edge, wild energy adding to it and swirling it into a mix that made Lucas’s teeth hurt and his eyes water. Cráwa was still aiming his staff at them, and Laurie and Slade still had their magic whining and ready in their hands.

“Come on, Bramble,” Lucas whispered. “Come on, boy, you can do this.”

Bramble’s ears pricked up again, like he’d heard, and he turned his head to look at Lucas. Lucas tried to convey
Pretend you’re going to rip their throats out, without actually ripping their throats out
with his eyes, and made a little surreptitious shooing gesture with his hand. Everyone watched as Bramble shook himself, fur settling a little less comically, and stalked back over to the door. He paused to sniff at Cráwa’s feet and then at Mister Scontun’s leg.

“Thomena de Bramble sei dunthas,” said Mister Scontun.

“No, Lucas is your master—attack!” said Slade.

Bramble looked between them, looked at Lucas, looked back at Mister Scontun… then sat down and wagged his tail.

Figured. Cat liked Mister Scontun better than she liked Lucas too. And Cat didn’t like anyone.

“Your Majesty, I must ask you to stand down,” said Cráwa.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Laurie and flicked his fingers until sparks shot from them.

Bramble said, “Woof!” and Alex said, “Uh-oh,” and Lucas watched Cráwa raise his staff, and said, “Oh, bloody hell.”

Then he ducked.

Chapter 11

 

I
T
WAS
a mess of magic.

And barking.

And lots and lots of shouting. Slade and his father seemed to be having a family argument while not-really-aiming magic at each other, which did not result in any injuries, but did result in Lucas’s heart leaping in his chest every time one of them lobbed a burst of magic at the other that deliberately—he was sure it was deliberately—missed and instead zapped too close to a shelf or storage box.

Lucas thought Laurie was the only one who was actually aiming to strike either Cráwa or Mister Scontun, but he hadn’t hit either one of them yet. Lucas had no idea if he should be grateful for that or not.

Blue bolts flew through the air, met by green, and the gold of little fireballs zinged past Lucas’s nose twice, even though Lucas had
told
Laurie, he’d
told
him no fire, but Laurie was too busy casting apparently the only three spells he knew to listen as Lucas cried, “My books! Don’t set my books on fire!”

He tried to throw himself between all of the flammable chaos and every single shelf, which was impossible for two reasons:

1) Alex kept grabbing hold of him and yanking him back every time Lucas managed to wriggle free, and
2) Lucas was actually only one person—and, sadly, still not an awesome hero out of faerie stories—and there were
hundreds
of shelves, each one with
thousands
of books, and
ohGod-ohGod-ohGod

“They’re going to destroy the Library!”

“Will you stop trying to get yourself killed?” Alex hollered at him over the buzzing din and once again dragged Lucas out of the way. This time, Lucas found himself pinned behind one of the tables Alex had turned over on its side to shield them from the melee.

“But the books!” Lucas wailed.

“Are replaceable!” Alex snapped. “
You
are
not
!”

“But they—” Lucas paused with an embarrassing little sniffle and shoved his hair out of his face. “Aw, that was really sweet. Now get off.” He tried again to heave Alex off him. “I have to make them stop!”

“You are
not
going back out there!” Alex growled, just as another rope of power zapped over their heads and showered tiny sparks all over Alex’s jacket.

“Purple this time,” Lucas remarked as he patted at Alex’s sleeves to make sure he wouldn’t catch fire. He looked up at Alex’s incredulous expression. “What? I’d only seen them do blue and green before.”

Alex set his teeth and shook his head. “Just—” He snatched at Lucas’s ankle as Lucas tried to crawl over him and out from behind the table. “Will you—? Damn it, Lucas!”

“Just let me get the scrolls from Tamsir,” Lucas pleaded. “They’re the only ones in the world, and they’re—”

“Not nearly as important to me as keeping your head on your shoulders.”

Lucas paused in his wriggling and sighed out a little mental
awwww
. Alex really was very lickable sometimes.

A bright pink bolt of power zinged past the upturned table and right into Restoration Studies, L through R. Shelves cracked, spines exploded and bindings split and sizzled like fat on a fire.

Lucas couldn’t breathe, could only watch as smoldering pages and fiery little puffs of ash flittered to the floor.

“Sorry, Lucas!” Laurie called.

And that was it, just
it
!
L
through
R
! That was—Lucas paused to count—
seven whole letters
! Gone up—
poof
!—in charred, smoking confetti.

With a shove and a twist, Lucas snapped out of Alex’s hold and got to his feet. He felt a swipe at his trouser leg as he slipped out of Alex’s reach, but he paid little attention.

Bolts of magic in rainbow colors whizzed over and around his head as he stalked toward the center of the tower room, but he ignored those too, indignation and outrage flooding his veins and raising the hairs on his head until they were standing almost straight.

Oh right, that was probably from the magic. Didn’t matter—as long as it looked scary.

It must have done, because Slade stopped to stare as Lucas passed him, magic wittering around his fingers and plucking up his arm like a nagging fishwife. Mister Scontun was next, mouth dropping open from where he’d taken cover behind Astrology, D through F. Lucas gave him a glare and kept going until he was standing in front of Cráwa. Cráwa had his staff up and his expression was wary, but he seemed more interested in what Lucas had to say than he did in smiting him. Which was good, because if there was any more smiting done today, Lucas was the one who was going to be doing it.

Blow up Restoration Studies L through R, would they?

Bramble inched out from around the doorway. Lucas couldn’t see his tail, but he could tell he was wagging it because his whole body was moving. Lucas sighed and tried to convey
Bad dog, I’m so disappointed in you
with his eyes, but he suspected it worked just as well as
Attack
! had done.

With a purse of his lips, Lucas straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Cráwa.”

Cráwa nodded back. “Tripp.”

“Are you going to blast me?”

“Not if I don’t have to.”

Well. Good enough to be getting on with, Lucas supposed. Probably not as far as Alex was concerned, though; he came up behind Lucas and tried to pull him back, but Lucas wasn’t going, not this time. He turned to glare at Alex and hissed, “Restoration Studies, L through R, Alex,
L
through
R
,” and then he turned back to Cráwa. “Mind telling me what you want the book for?”

Cráwa sighed. “I can’t.” He actually looked genuinely regretful, and
huh, what do you know
, Lucas could actually see it through the usual supercilious condescension.

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