Story Thieves (15 page)

“You've been a ton of help. Thank you,” Bethany said, and dragged Kiel past the man.

“Cool costume,” the man told Kiel as they passed, and Bethany gritted her teeth.

“If everyone's just going to recognize me, why can't I wear my cloak and belt?” Kiel asked as they passed a bunch of storefronts. “I feel weird not having them, even without the wands. And the belt has a few emergency spells in it, in case I use them up from memory.”

“Because this is
not
happening, and I'm not going to let it not happen any more than it's
already
not happening.”

“Your science logic is odd, but I'll take your word for it,” he said, then stopped dead in his tracks. “WHAT. IS. THAT?”

Bethany followed his gaze, and almost dry heaved.

The entire window at Untitled Books was filled with a poster for
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Source of Magic
. An almost life-size painted version of Kiel aimed his magic wands at what looked
like zombified versions of robots, while at his back some half-robot girl shot ray guns at the monsters.

“This is my book?” Kiel said almost reverently, gently placing his fingers on the window. “I'm so . . .
handsome 
! Look at me! Do you see this? LOOK!”

“Oooh, you do look just like him!” said a girl coming out of the store. “That's so cool!”

“Oh, really?” Kiel said, posing beside the poster. “I mean, I'm probably a bit better-looking, don't you think? The painting loses something a little. But I can see the resemblance, I suppose.”

The girl laughed, so Bethany quickly stepped between them. “The sad thing is,” she whispered to the girl, “he thinks he really is Kiel. It's something wrong in his head. We just came to the author's town to see if it might help snap him out of it.”

The girl blinked, then flashed Kiel a worried smile and quickly continued on her way. Kiel watched her go, his face covered in disappointment. “That was evil.”

“Good. Now come on, let's find the right book. You can think I'm evil all the way home if you want.”

The bookstore had Kiel Gnomenfoot posters up everywhere, to Bethany's annoyance. As they walked in, the clerk looked up and grinned. “Cool cost—”

“No, it's not!” Bethany shouted. “It's just black clothing. He's not even
wearing
a costume!”

The clerk raised both eyebrows. “Oh, sorry about that. We do get a lot of Kiel costumes in here. I didn't mean anything by it.”

Perfect. Now she was yelling at completely innocent strangers. “Sorry, I'm just in a bad mood,” Bethany said, forcing a smile. “Where are your Kiel Gnomenfoot books, actually? My friend's never read them.”

“Back on that wall,” the clerk said, and Bethany grabbed Kiel's hand and strode off. “But we're sold out of most of them!”

“Sold out?” Kiel asked, pulling his hand away. “Do you get a lot of people interested in reading about this dashingly handsome Kiel person?”

“Oh, tons of kids,” the clerk said. “Adults, too. It's a huge thing. I hear they want to make a movie, but the author says no.”

“A movie?” Kiel asked.

“I know,” the clerk said. “Why ruin a perfectly good book by turning it into a movie that can't possibly be as good.”

“So true,” Bethany said, dragging Kiel away. She whispered to him, “Could you
please
concentrate? Maybe they still have the sixth book. That's the only one I care about.”

“We can't begrudge my fans their stories,” Kiel told her. “I'd feel horrible depriving even one reader of hearing my adventures.”

She struggled hard to not just drop him into the nearest cookbook.

The children's section covered the walls in one corner of the store, and Bethany quickly scanned the shelves for Porterhouse.
Kiel Gnomenfoot: Magic Thief
was there, as was
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Tense Future
and
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Infinite Reality
.

But that was it.

“NOOOOOO,” Bethany moaned, searching the shelves just in case a book had been misplaced. No sixth book? Maybe she could just jump him into one of the others, and let him find his own way back to his present? He could just hide out for three or four books, couldn't he?” She sighed deeply.

Kiel carefully pulled the first book off the shelf and opened the cover. “ ‘The war had made food scarce on Magisteria, especially for orphans living on the streets,' ” he read, then showed her the page. “
I
lived on the streets, and food
was
scarce! This is so accurate. It's just like being there.”

Bethany slammed the book shut on his fingers, then pulled
it away from him and shoved it back onto the shelf. “What are we going to do?” she hissed.

“Not close any more books on my hand, for a start,” Kiel said indignantly, holding his hands protectively.

Bethany fell backward against a nearby column and slid to the floor. “I . . . I just don't know how to fix this. I can't even put
you
back, let alone your teacher.”

“Magister.”

She glared at him. “Really? Could you maybe help instead of being . . . you?”

Kiel slid down the column beside her and patted her leg. “You're taking this all too hard. From the way you talk about it, we can jump back into the books at any point, right? And depending on the page, no time will have passed since I left. So what's the hurry? What's the big deal if I stick around for a little bit? Why do you care so much?”

She sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “Because none of this was supposed to happen! I'm just so tired of making mistakes. It seems like that's all I do. I shouldn't have trusted Owen. I shouldn't have brought him into the book. And I definitely shouldn't have gone back to his house.” She
rubbed her eyes. “And my mom? She won't notice I'm gone until tonight, since she goes to work before I get up, but when I don't come home? She's going to go crazy. She'll call the police, the FBI will come, I'll be on the news, and if I
do
come home? I'll never see the sun again.
So dead.
” She growled loudly and knocked her head against the column over and over. “That stupid Willy Wonka book! WHY?”

Kiel nodded, his face exuding deep wisdom. “I have no idea what any of that meant,” he said. “But if this Willy person really did cause all of this, then I'm glad he did. Do you have any idea how much you've shown me in the little time I've known you? I'm practically a god here!”

“Nope,” Bethany said absently. “Not even a little bit. You're a fictional character.”

“That everyone loves! And please don't call me that.” He grinned. “Besides, what's so wrong with you enjoying yourself? I saw the look on your face when you grabbed the Porterhouse guy and jumped into that sheet of paper. You were having fun.”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you insane?”

He shook his head. “I know what I saw. A crazy look in your eyes, a smile on your face. You were getting a thrill, admit it.”

“Do you not realize what's happening here?”

“Eh,” he told her, tossing a small ball of fire from hand to hand. “This is nothing. I've lived my entire life in a war zone. Seen some truly horrible things, too, even before Dr. Verity started his crusade against Magisteria. But guess what? I still smile. I still laugh. I still even have fun sometimes.” He considered that. “Well, most of the time, honestly. If you're not enjoying yourself, what's the point?”

“The point is that you're trying to save the world from an evil scientist tyrant! How can you enjoy yourself when everything's going so terribly?”

He winked. “I'm multitalented.”

She wanted to say something horrible and mocking—just as soon as it came to her—but her thoughts were interrupted by a noise like thunder. The entire building rocked, and the clerk at the front of the store shouted, “WHOA! Look at that!”

“Oh, come
on
, what now?” Bethany said, quickly jumping to her feet as books began to shake right off the shelves. She and Kiel made their way back to the front of the store and peeked out the window from behind the giant Kiel Gnomenfoot poster.

An enormous black-and-silver tower rose up from the hills outside the town, where Jonathan Porterhouse's house was
supposed to be, shaking the earth as it grew into the sky.

Bethany stepped back, completely speechless. Kiel just nodded. “Okay, yes. That's the Magister's tower, all right.” He threw a glance at Bethany and winced. “That's probably the kind of thing you
didn't
want to happen, isn't it?”

T
he noise was incredible, with videos playing loudly everywhere. Lights of an impossible amount of colors popped in front of Owen's eyes, almost blinding him. But the craziest thing was easily the people. They were
everywhere
, and all of them were chatting with someone else, or commenting on something, or shouting a question. And other than glowing like they were made of light (which they probably were), no two people looked anything alike.

An entire world full of people of all shapes, sizes, ages, and genders had come to the Internet—or, well, Nalwork, apparently—and it was easily the craziest, loudest, most glowing thing Owen had ever seen.

Something touched Owen's hand, and he looked down to find Charm tapping a tiny glowing piece of paper into his palm. He took it and opened it up.

i hate this place
, it said.

He laughed. “Why? I love it!” he tried to say, but his voice got lost in the din.

She shook her head, then showed him a glowing notepad in her hand. She concentrated on it for a moment, then ripped off a sheet and handed it to him.

you have to use the nalwork tools to talk privately. don't say anything out loud.

He nodded and looked around for his own notepad, then realized he probably just needed to think about one. He concentrated, and a notepad like hers appeared. He thought about what he wanted to say, then ripped off a sheet and handed it to her.
so what now?

now we be careful. we're both wanted criminals. don't get caught.

He nodded as they moved around, trying to stay out of other people's way. Unfortunately, that wasn't easy as there were other digital avatars
everywhere
.

this is all anyone does anymore
, Charm said in a note as they pushed their way through the crowds.
it's so pathetic. people just sit on the nalwork all day, and robots do everything for them in the real world.

Owen nodded, his mind drifting off to the
real
real world. What was taking Bethany so long to bring Kiel and the Magister back? All she had to do was touch them and jump back into the book, right? Could she really be in trouble? Owen rolled his eyes. Her, get into trouble? She'd never do anything that fun.

He glanced back over at Charm, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her red robot eye watching everything at once. Sure, she was a fictional character, but there was something just so . . .
blunt
about her. Honest. It was kind of nice, having someone just say whatever they were thinking.

Also, she was adorable, especially with her ray guns.

stop looking at me
, her note said.
you're making me nervous.

His eyes turned frontward, and he blushed. Fair enough.

She pointed at an advertisement for a new communications device that was no bigger than the chip she'd put into his head.
they invented that centuries ago. now it just gets smaller and smaller. nothing new. at least magicians use their imaginations and come up with new stuff.

but magic doesn't last very long
, he wrote back.
at least this stuff exists for longer than a spell.

She shrugged.
Quanterium has given up. in a lot of ways, not just by letting Dr. Verity take over.

Owen followed her through the throngs of people, stopping every so often for a crowd giving their opinion on something or other, or just a thumbs-up or -down here or there. All around them transparent tubes filled the only empty space, some of which had people shouting random phrases in them, then being whisked away. What were they doing?

Charm pointed at some nearby tubes.
there. those will take us to the original computer.

what are they?

you'll see.

The crowds around the tubes were just as heavy if not worse than everywhere else, so it took a bit of time to get through. Charm gave him a few more notes along the way, explaining not to talk to anyone, not to say anything to anyone, and not to speak to anyone. Owen pointed out that those things all meant the same thing, but she just glared at him.

“Learn sixteen languages in just three seconds!” a robot shouted at Owen, loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “You, there, in the black cloak! Build your own holodeck! Buy
one time machine, get a second half-off, today only! Buy your girlfriend a matter transporter!”

Owen immediately blushed, and he stopped in place. “She's not my girlfriend,” he said out loud.

Charm gasped, and somehow Owen heard it. In fact, as soon as he'd spoken, the entire Internet—Nalwork—had gone silent. All talking, all chatting, everything just completely stopped. Videos paused, the lights stopped blinking, and people in every direction turned to look directly at Owen.

Charm slapped her forehead with her palm, hard.

The robot's eyes flipped from a friendly blue to a bright red. “VOICE RECOGNIZED,” it said in a much more monotone, less salesman-type voice, as if it'd been taken over by an outside force. “MAGISTERIAN CRIMINAL KIEL GNOMENFOOT IDENTIFIED.”