Bethany stared at Owen, her mouth hanging open. How could he have done this? He changed the story! He changed the story ! In all her years of visiting books, she’d never interfered with the story, not once. She’d avoided the main characters, no matter how much she wanted to see them, just so there wasn’t even a chance of this happening.
Owen must have come in specifically to do this, to save the Magister. He’d tricked her. He’d tricked her! Had he said all that stuff about the location spell as a way to fool her into bringing him into the book?
“I know what you’re going to say,” Owen told her, backing away from what must have been a pretty upsetting look on her face.
“Oh, I don’t think you have any idea what I want to say,” she told him, her voice dangerously low. How could this have happened? Would the readers see them, after he’d just yelled out to them? Would it change the next book that hadn’t come out yet?
Owen held up both his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I really am, but it had to be done! He was going to kill the Magister! How could I let that happen? Besides, as of right now, I don’t think anyone’s even noticed that you’re here, so your secret should still be safe—”
“And who might you two be?” said an old, half-amused voice. Owen flinched, while Bethany spun around, hoping that whoever it was intended to shoot fireballs or something at Owen.
A man wearing robes down past his feet and a beard past his robes stepped over to them, his eyes twinkling, his hat twitching like a living thing. “Visitors!” the Magister said with a wide smile. “And I hope with no intention of killing me? That’s my favorite kind of visitor. And what brings you to my tower?”
“Don’t. Say. Anything,” Bethany whispered, trying to step back into the shadows. “We’re going. Now.”
She grabbed for Owen’s hand, but he pulled it just out of reach. “I came to save you, Your Magister-ness,” Owen said. “It was all me. My plan, no one else’s. I heard about Dr. Verity trying to kill you, so I figured I should stop that.” He shrugged. “You know, no big deal. Something anyone would have done, if they’d thought of it. And been brave enough. Like I pretty much was.”
“Saved me?” the Magister said, then gave him a curious look. “Then you have my everlasting thanks. But you also have my curiosity.” He sniffed the air. “You don’t smell as if you’re from Magisteria. Or Quanterium, for that matter. You smell . . . distant.”
Despite his friendliness, the Magister’s tone gave Bethany a chill. She grabbed for Owen’s hand again, but this time he smacked her hand away, and she almost punched him.
“Distant is a good word,” Owen told him. “Where I’m from, we’re all big fans of yours. And Kiel’s.”
“I have fans, do I?” the Magister said, his eyes twinkling. “What a curious thing. And how did you learn of me? I don’t recall visiting a land with people like you in my travels. Perhaps Kiel has?” He gestured for them to sit down. “He should be back in a moment, if you’d like to wait.”
Dr. Verity moaned, and the Magister’s gaze fell on the scientist. “Ah, my good doctor,” the Magister said. “This boy seems to have done me a great favor. Not only did he protect me, but he left you vulnerable to my tender mercies.” The Magister gestured, and the mad doctor’s body sprang into the air. Snakelike chains slithered up from hidden parts of the study to wrap themselves around the scientist until no part of him except his head was uncovered.
Dr. Verity screamed in rage, jerking his head around to no avail. “You couldn’t have seen me coming!” he shouted. “It’s impossible! I had this planned out, and you were meant to die, tonight!”
The Magister looked him right in the face. “Oh, but I didn’t, Doctor. See you coming or die, for that matter. In fact, I still don’t know how these children knew of your attack.” One finger flicked on his right hand, and invisible hands yanked Bethany out into the light. “The boy has spoken, but you have not, my dear,” the Magister said, turning to face her. “What can you tell me about all of this?”
Bethany went absolutely silent, her face bright red. Anything she said now would be seen by every single reader of the book, from now until forever. This was her worst nightmare, worse than forgetting to wear clothes to school or the one where she dreamed that her father was actually Mr. Barberry.
“I . . . ,” she started to say, then froze, her mind blank.
The Magister smiled gently. “Don’t be afraid. I mean you no harm.” He sniffed the air loudly again. “You smell distant too, though not from as far as your friend. In some ways, you could be from Magisteria. But in other ways, not.” He raised an eyebrow. “You glow with power as well, my dear. Now which would that be? Magic or science?”
The invisible hands held her tighter, and something electric and cold shot through her spine, giving her the chills.
“No time for explaining, sorry,” Bethany said quickly, shaking off the odd feeling as she frantically reached for Owen.
Owen, though, just shook his head, an excited look on his face. “Are you kidding?” he whispered. “We’re not going yet. Kiel is coming. We have to meet him!”
“You’ll pay for this, Sebastian,” Dr. Verity said, almost spitting with hate. “My infinite armies will attack Magisteria with or without me! I don’t care where you imprison me. I’ll find a way out and will destroy all who profane reality with that blasphemy you call magic. You, that boy of yours, this whole science-forsaken planet of Magisteria—”
The Magister sighed. “I take no pleasure in doing this, Verity. But you leave me no choice in the matter. You’re far too dangerous.” The Magister gestured, and the destroyed spell book on the podium popped back into existence, then flipped pages faster than Bethany could see, finally landing on a page called “Exile from All Reality.”
Dr. Verity’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t! Kill me instead!”
“So your death can trigger further clones of yourself, as it has for centuries?” the Magister asked with his gentle smile. “I think not. In exile, you’ll never age, or hunger, or thirst. Time will stand still, and you’ll find yourself with far more freedom than those you would make war against. Freedom to reflect on the choices that have brought you here.” He patted Dr. Verity on his cheek. “After all, freedom is the right of all beings, is it not?”
“I think Optimus Prime said that,” Owen whispered to Bethany. Bethany elbowed him in the gut, hard.
The Magister began his spell. Dr. Verity tried to scream, but the sound was lost as the scientist slowly faded away. The chains, having nothing to hold on to, fell to the floor with an enormous clatter.
“Um . . . I thought there was supposed to be a seventh book,” Owen whispered to Bethany. “It’s coming out in a week, and Kiel was supposed to have a big final battle with Dr. Verity. How’s that going to happen now?”
She shot him a look of pure hatred, but it didn’t even register with Owen. The Magister, however, registered just fine. “A book, you say?” the old man asked. “With Kiel and Dr. Verity? What book would that be, then?”
This was all far too far. Whatever spell had been holding her had disappeared when the Magister had exiled Dr. Verity, so Bethany leaped right at Owen, her hands spread wide. The boy jumped backward in surprise, but she tackled him around his waist and kicked them both right up out of the book.
They crashed out of the book’s pages and onto the carpet of Owen’s bedroom, landing hard enough to knock the air out of Owen. Bethany quickly sat up, grabbed Owen’s shirt, and shook him back and forth. “WHAT DID YOU DO?” she screamed.
“Boof !” Owen said, not able to form words yet.
“YOU JUST TOLD A CHARACTER IN A BOOK THAT HE WAS IN A BOOK!” Bethany couldn’t even think, she was so angry. “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“No?” Owen squeaked.
“ME NEITHER!” she shouted. “And that’s what scares me!”
She leaped off of him and grabbed the book, frantically turning back to the last page.
“Good-bye, Sebastian,” Dr. Verity said, and his gun began powering up to fire.
. . . . To be continued in Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Source of Magic.
Bethany let out an explosive breath. They weren’t there! The book ended too soon!
“What does it say?” Owen asked her, looking nervous.
“It says you are so lucky!” she shouted, then threw the book at him. He flinched, and the book fell back to the floor, falling open. Bethany yanked him up by his arm and stared him right in the face, so close she could feel his breath. “You don’t ever speak to me again, do you understand? And if you ever tell anyone about me, I’ll find the deepest, darkest math book I can find, and drop you into the most boring part!”
Owen shuddered and slowly nodded. “I . . . I’m sorry,” he started to say, but she just glared at him, and he immediately shut up.
“We don’t talk, remember? EVER AGAIN!”
And with that, Bethany slammed his bedroom door and stomped down the stairs to go home. For a moment, she was so angry she couldn’t even get his front door open. In frustration she smacked the door so hard that her hand stung, and she groaned in pain.
A friend would have come out to see if she was okay. Or just come out to apologize again for ruining her life in the first place.
Bethany gave Owen five seconds. He didn’t show.
Maybe even angrier now, she yanked the front door open, then slammed it shut, too furious to notice the bright light exploding from Owen’s window.