Story Thieves (3 page)

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “I'm an idiot for even talking to you. But if I tell you about it, will you
promise
to never tell anyone else?”

Owen crossed his heart, and she rolled her eyes again. “Not good enough?” he asked. “How about, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good—”

“Don't Marauder's Map me,” she told him. “I'll talk to you at the library tonight. Until then, you don't speak to me, look at me, or even know I exist. Now leave me alone.”

Owen beamed and stood up to go get food, too excited to eat but knowing he'd better, since he might need his strength. There'd
have
to be dragons, whatever story they'd visit tonight. And magic. And spaceships, and aliens who weren't allergic to human colds, and flying squirrels, and volcanoes, and superspies, probably, and everything else he couldn't even imagine right now.

All this time, his favorite books hadn't been lying. All you had to do was wait long enough, last through enough boring lessons on fractions, live through enough chores and homework and evil stepmothers, and eventually you found something . . .
better
. A fairy godmother, a dying alien with a power ring, or a doorway to a magical world.

And Owen's doorway just happened to be a girl named Bethany.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, mostly because Owen didn't even bother trying to pay attention. Instead, he went through all his favorite books in his head, trying to pinpoint which one they should go into first.

Obviously, Harry Potter would be near the top of the list. Not even to Hogwarts, just to Ollivanders for a wand. That'd be perfect. Next,
The Lightning Thief
. And
The Graveyard Book
, and a trip to
Fablehaven
, and—

And then Owen stopped short, right in the middle of the sidewalk as he walked home from the bus. What was he thinking? What was everyone at school talking about? The seventh Kiel Gnomenfoot book, out next week. And why? Because they all wanted to find out if the Magister had lived, and if not, to see Kiel get revenge on Dr. Verity.

But what if . . . what if someone
saved
the Magister from Dr. Verity? What if Bethany brought Owen into the book right at the moment when Dr. Verity attacked, and Owen stopped him?

He would be a hero. A hero in a book.
A hero in a book that everyone read.

Owen's mouth dropped open, and pure joy exploded in his chest. This would be
huge
. Bigger than saving Dumbledore, since Dumbledore came back anyway as a ghost or whatever. The Magister was like everyone's favorite character after Kiel. It might even change how the books ended!

That was it. None of the tourist, autograph type stuff. Clearly, Owen had been pulled out of his boring world for exactly this reason. It was meant to be. Fate or something. He'd been chosen, and it was time to save the greatest wizard ever, the Magister.

And all Owen had to do to make it happen was convince Bethany to take him.

B
ethany stood outside the library's sliding doors, watching Owen at the front desk. He wasn't actually doing anything, just staring off into space like he always did in class. Daydreaming.

When was the last time she'd daydreamed? Bethany couldn't actually remember. Why imagine a world in your head when you could just go visit another one in a book?

Of course, to do that, you had to sneak the book into your house to make sure you didn't get caught by your mother, who absolutely forbade you from ever jumping into another book. And then you'd have to hide it from her at all times, waiting to actually jump into it until there was no chance she'd catch you missing.

Bethany sighed, smushing her face against the library's window. Maybe daydreaming
was
better.

This was going to be bad, talking to Owen about . . . everything. The how and, even worse, the why. But there was no way to avoid him, not with him working in the library. Without money, the library had always been the only way to get more books. And without new books, she'd never find what she'd been looking for.

She sighed again. Either she stopped sneaking books and gave up her search, or she disobeyed her mother and felt horrible. At least feeling horrible would eventually go away.

It had to, didn't it?

This was dumb. She'd just tell Owen enough to satisfy his curiosity, then bribe him so he'd leave her alone. She dropped a hand into her pocket to make sure the Everlasting Gobstopper she'd taken from Willy Wonka's factory was still there. Candy that'd never lose its flavor or get smaller, no matter how long you sucked on it? That seemed like a good trade-off for keeping your mouth shut.

For just a moment she watched Owen smile at someone as he checked out their books, and she felt a little sick. There hadn't been many people lined up to be her friend, not since her birthday party all those years ago. After the party her mother hadn't let her out of the house without watching her
closely, and she'd even pulled Bethany out of school for the next few years. And here was Owen, someone who might be fun to talk to, or even come with her when she searched through books. But instead, she was bribing him to stay away. Great.

Ugh. Why couldn't she just be back in a book right now, avoiding all of this?

Taking a deep breath, Bethany stepped through the sliding glass doors, gave Owen a look, then nodded toward the computerless tables in the back, the ones no one ever sat at. He smiled at her, then winked way too obviously, which almost made her turn right around, no matter what he knew. She pushed on anyway and kept walking toward the tables, where she threw her bag onto a chair and sat down to wait.

Less than a minute later, Owen slid into the seat across from her. “My mom's watching the desk. I told her we were meeting to go over some homework.” He grinned. “A book report. You know, because—”

“I get it,” Bethany said. “So, what, you just lie to your mother? No big deal?” Guilt swirled in her stomach, but she decided Owen deserved it more.

Owen sat back in his chair, his face turning red. “Well, not
usually, but I promised not to tell anyone, so I had to think of an excuse—”

“Right, whatever,” Bethany said, waving a hand as she inwardly tried to ignore how he'd done it for
her
, which made this lie her fault too. “Listen. I brought you something.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the gobstopper.

His eyes widened, and he took the candy in his hands almost reverently. “Is . . . is this a Wonka original?” he whispered.

Wow. “Yup. And it's all yours. You just have to agree to leave me alone and never tell anyone about what you saw last night.”

His eyes widened even more, and he held the candy up so he could look at it more closely. Then he sighed and passed it back to her. “You keep it,” he said, shaking his head. “There are too many books I'd rather visit!”

Bethany narrowed her eyes and pushed the candy back toward him. “It's not a choice. You either get the candy and leave me alone, or you
don't
get the candy and leave me alone.”

He took the candy back, but set it to one side. “We can talk about that in a minute. I want to know how you do all of this in the first place.”

Bethany glanced around to make sure no one could hear. “My . . . my father. He's, um, fictional. You know, from a
book.” She swallowed hard, knowing what was coming.

Owen gave her a confused look. “I'm sorry, he's . . . what?”

“My father is a
fictional character
,” she said, her anger growing, which wasn't really fair. It's not like she had just told Owen her father was from Sweden or something. This wasn't something that most people dealt with on a daily basis, so she should maybe cut him some slack.

But why did she have to be fair to Owen about this? How was it any of his business anyway?

“. . . . What?” Owen repeated, still confused.

“My
mother
read books about my
father
, and somehow my father found his way out of those books, and they fell in love,” Bethany hissed, her anger growing with each word Owen said. “You know, I'd really like to not talk about this—”

“How does a fictional person just . . . get out?” Owen asked.

“I don't know!” Bethany said, annoyed at herself for letting Owen bother her so much. “Maybe I could ask him if he was around. Only he's not, okay? Are we
done
here?”

“Where did he go? Back into his book?”

“Where did he
go
?” Bethany said, her voice getting louder. “For my fourth birthday party, my mom told everyone I wasn't allowed to get books for presents. All my friends' parents
thought that was weird, but they listened. All except one. While my mom was in the other room, I opened a present and found a copy of
Fairy Tales for Kids
. And since I didn't know what I was doing, I pulled myself, all the other kids, and my
father
right into the book.”

She paused, swallowing hard. “Somehow, I got me and the other kids back out,” Bethany said, her voice now quieter. “They all thought it was some kind of cool magic trick for the party. But my dad . . . I don't know what happened, but he got left behind. Except he's not in that book now, not anymore. And I don't know
where
he is.”

“Couldn't he just leave that book too?” Owen asked. “The same way he did the first time?”

Why was she telling Owen this much? “Maybe? I don't know. Maybe he tried, and left that book looking for another way out. Maybe . . . maybe he couldn't leave, because something hurt him in the story. Or maybe he just figured, why come back to the real world when the fictional world is so much
better 
?”

She turned away, ran the backs of her hands over her eyes, then sighed. “I look for him everywhere I can,” she said, staring at the table. “After my dad got lost, my mom wouldn't let me jump into books anymore, no exceptions. For years after, she
wouldn't even let me read a book the normal way without watching me do it, not even schoolbooks. And what am I going to do with those, jump into a word problem? As soon as she started to trust me, I hit the library and checked out that fairy-tale book first thing. I tore that thing apart, inside and out, but he wasn't there. Not anywhere in it! I keep trying, bringing home new books every night, hiding them from my mom, but there are so many other books out there. How could anyone possibly look through them all?”

Owen put up his hands, and she realized he was trying to quiet her down. She looked over his shoulder to where several people had turned to look at whatever the crazy girl in the corner was yelling about. Her eyes widened, and she gritted her teeth in an effort to not punch something. “I don't know why I'm even talking about this,” she hissed. “You're just some jerk who won't leave me alone.
Now, do you want the gobstopper or not? 
”

He glanced at the candy again, staring at it like it was made of gold. Then he pushed it back to her side. “No. But if you really don't want to ever hear from me again, then I've got a different deal for you.”

That's what this was all about. She should have known. “So you
do
want a time machine.”

He shook his head. “I don't want anything from a book. Just for you to take me into one. Five minutes, in and out, that's all I ask.”

Bethany sighed. Of course that's what he wanted. Meet Percy Jackson, or Ron Weasley, or that knockoff Harry Potter kid, Kiel Giant-toes. And if she didn't do what he asked, he'd tell her mother, and that'd be it. So much for making a friend. “And which book is that?”

He pulled a book out from his backpack.
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the End of Everything.
Kiel Giant-toes it was.

“So, what, you want his autograph?” she asked, keeping her voice as level as she could. “Want to go gush over him like he's a celebrity? That'll be
perfect
, Owen. He has no idea anyone even knows who he is, but yes, go tell him how much you love his gnome feet or whatever, and how
The End of Everything
is the greatest title you've ever heard. Do you know how dumb that idea is? You'd change the entire story! Do you have any idea what would happen if you did that?”

Owen's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “No?” he said.

“Neither do I!” she whispered. “Maybe it's not possible, I don't even know, because I'm too smart to have ever tried. The last thing I need is for my name to show up in a book like
I'm a character, where
everyone
can see it. You think no one would notice that, if suddenly there's a Bethany Sanderson in
Frankenstein
where there'd never been one before? And what if I change a book's story, especially one that's as popular as Kiel Nope-Fingers? People are gonna notice something like that in seconds! I have nightmares about what could happen.”

He started to say something, then stopped and opened the book. “I don't want to meet Kiel,” he said finally. “He's not even in this chapter. I just . . . His teacher, the Magister, has this spell book, and—”

“Magic?” Bethany almost shouted, then quickly quieted down when everyone turned to look at them again. “Are you kidding me? You want to learn
magic
? Did you hear what I just said about nightmares? That'd be like ten times worse!”

“There's a spell,” Owen told her. “Kiel's used it before. It helps you find things.” He paused, as if he were considering something. “I didn't know about your father, not before. But now that I do, there's a spell in this book that could find him for you. You learn the spell, and cast it here, or there, however it works. And it'd locate him.” He shrugged. “I just thought that might help you. And if after that you want me to forget all this, that I ever saw you, that's up to you.”