Xandra reached out to the painting.

‘No!’ said Lex. ‘You’re not allowed to touch the artwork.’

‘But there’s something special about this one,’ insisted Xandra. ‘I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to touch it.’

She reached out again. Her hand was almost upon it, when Lex pulled her chair back.

‘Xandra, what’s the matter with you?’ asked Lex, turning her wheelchair around and pushing it away from the painting.

‘I don’t know,’ snapped Xandra. Her brother could be so over-protective at times. Just because he was five minutes older than her, he seemed to think he could tell her what to do. Five minutes didn’t matter. They were both still thirteen. She particularly hated it when he took control of her wheelchair like that. Although she supposed he was right in this case. She shouldn’t be touching the exhibits in the museum.

‘It was a really strange feeling.’ She tried to clarify things in her own mind, but failed. She didn’t really know why she wanted to touch the painting … she just did.

‘Come on,’ said Lex. ‘The others have moved on.’

Xandra nodded and placed her hand over the wheelchair controls. ‘I’ll drive,’ she said firmly.

‘Cool.’ Lex led the way across the room full of paintings and sculptures towards the next area of the museum. ‘Old maps!’

Xandra smiled. Maps were her brother’s thing. He did orienteering with his Scout group and was always looking at maps. She glanced back at the painting and its mysterious swirls before following him. Xandra was into art, even though her own skills weren’t especially good. She loved looking at paintings and seeing how the artist saw the world. When a particular picture caught her eye, she could stare at it for ages; often feeling like she might fall into its world.

They caught up with the rest of their school group. The teacher, Mr Quan, was pointing to an ancient piece of parchment with faded markings, explaining the history behind the map. It looked like he hadn’t even noticed that Xandra and Lex had been missing. He wasn’t very observant. Sometimes he even got their names the wrong way around. They may be twins, with the same short brown hair and long, angular faces, but she was a girl and in a wheelchair – surely that was a giveaway.

‘Okay,’ said Mr Quan after he finished his explanations. ‘You’ve got an hour to look around on your own. Everyone needs to meet up by the front door at twelve-thirty. Then we’ll be about ready to have lunch.’

As the students dispersed, Xandra wheeled up to Mr Quan.

‘Sir?’ she asked. ‘Can you tell me anything about that weird painting in the other room?’

‘Weird painting?’ said Mr Quan. ‘Which one?’

‘The swirly one,’ said Xandra.

Lex sighed.

Xandra knew that sigh.

Lex was always complaining that when she got something on her mind, no matter how dumb, she’d never let it go. He saw it as frustrating. She saw it as positive determination.

‘Why don’t you show me,’ suggested Mr Quan.

Xandra led the way back. She stopped in front of the painting that was giving her the strange feelings. It was a turmoil of colours, all twirling together in a clockwise direction.

‘Ah.’ Her teacher nodded as he looked at the painting. ‘Yes, this is an unusual one. It’s called Doorway, but it doesn’t look like a door. It’s dated 1851, but not signed. There’s been much speculation as to the identity of the artist.’

Mr Quan was now in lecture mode.

Even though she had asked for the explanation, Xandra found herself tuning out. She felt the pull of the painting. She wanted to touch it. Somehow, she thought, adventure lay within. A ridiculous notion.

‘… and that’s all I know,’ finished Mr Quan.

‘Huh?’ Xandra was startled out of her thoughts. ‘Okay, thanks.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Mr Quan. ‘It’s what I’m here for. You know, being a teacher and all that.’

As he turned to leave, Xandra reached out to the painting.

Her fingers brushed the frame.

The painting flared with light.

Xandra inhaled sharply and snatched her hand away.

To the right of the display, where Mr Quan had been standing, something was happening! Something unexpected and unbelievable! The air shimmered and distorted, then, with a whoosh, tore apart.

Lex yelped in surprise, making Mr Quan turn back. The teacher gaped. His hands began to tremble. ‘Xandra. Lex. Get away from … from …’ He backed away until he tripped over his own feet and fell down. He sat there, wide-eyed, unable to move or speak.

Xandra stared at the wonder before her. She stared into its depths and saw …

Paintings.

Xandra’s heart pounded, but it was more excitement than fear.

Why aren’t I scared? she wondered. I should be terrified. She glanced at her brother – he certainly looked scared out of his mind.

She gazed at the distortion … through it. Paintings hung on a wall in a museum. But this museum was nothing like the one she and her brother were visiting. Their museum was little and pokey, with just a few exhibits in each of its smallish rooms; the museum though the mid-air hole was … extravagant.

The astonishing sight before her held all of Xandra’s attention. She forgot about her brother and her teacher and the school excursion. It felt like her surroundings were fading, and this strange phenomenon was the only bright spot in an otherwise dull universe.

Xandra saw a massive hall, its walls crammed full of amazing artworks. Marble floor, high ceiling and gilt frames. More than anything she wanted to explore this museum in all its glory. She wanted to wheel through its halls and study the exhibits. Her fingers moved to her wheelchair controls.

‘Stop!’ called Lex. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I just want a closer look,’ answered Xandra.

‘You can’t,’ said Lex. ‘You don’t know what that … that … thing is.’

‘Doorway,’ stated Xandra. ‘The painting’s called Doorway. And that’s what I think this is.’ She smiled. ‘A doorway to someplace else.’

‘What?’ Lex gaped at the doorway. ‘This is just too weird,’ he whispered. ‘No. No. It’s just a trick … an illusion. It has to be. Some weird new art display.’

‘I want to go through,’ Xandra declared. She didn’t know why. She just knew that that’s what she wanted. She felt drawn to the distortion of light and was certain it would lead her where she needed to go.

‘You can’t,’ Lex insisted. ‘It could be dangerous.’

‘You said it was an illusion,’ Xandra pointed out, ‘in which case there couldn’t possibly be any danger.’

Her fingers played over the chair’s controls and she wheeled towards it.

‘No!’ Lex leapt forward and grabbed his sister’s chair.

Xandra halted centimetres from the shimmering door.

She was not about to let her brother stop her. Without hesitation, she touched it. There was a tingling sensation as her hand passed through the wibbly-wobbly air. And then she was being sucked through.

‘Stop! Wait!’

Xandra could hear the desperation in Lex’s voice … but her need was greater than his. She could feel him holding on to her chair, trying to stop it from moving. It was no use – Xandra was being drawn out of her seat. She felt Lex’s hand grasp her shoulder.

‘Nooooo!’ Lex screamed.

Xandra was whisked forward, her brother’s hand still on her shoulder.

Is he coming too? she wondered, as everything blurred and distorted.