The Stolen Chapters (28 page)

“Little boYYYYyyyy,” it said, “I've COOOOME for you . . .”

Owen started to scream for all he was worth, only to have an enormous book come out of nowhere and slam into his head. He instantly crashed to the ground, falling the rest of the way off the bed, and watched in horror as the clown doll came skittering at him.

“Bad boys get EEEATEN!” the clown said, and Owen covered his eyes in terror.

But nothing happened.

Finally, he opened his eyes one by one and found something even worse than a clown doll standing over him.

Bethany dropped an enormous book of horror stories right onto his stomach, knocking the air out of him. As Owen struggled to breathe, she bent down and smiled. “Welcome to every night for the rest of your life,” she whispered to him. “I know where you live, Fowen. And I know what you've done. I don't care how much it changes my story, my past, none of it. I will make sure you
pay
each and every night for the rest of your life. You'll never get a wink of sleep. Every time you close your eyes, I'll be there. And there's a whole horror section in the library, with new books coming in all the time.”

“No,” he moaned, covering his eyes again. “No,
please
.”

“Where's my Owen?” Bethany asked him.

He opened his eyes again. “
I'm
your Owen. . . .”

Bethany grabbed the horror book and began leafing through its pages. “Oooh, ghosts. I'll probably have a harder time getting those out before they drive you insane, since they're so hard to touch and all. Want to try?”

“He's in there!” Fowen shouted, pointing at a book on his shelf. “I swear, he's in there. Just grab him from page four, he won't have been in too long if you take him from there.”

Bethany glanced at the book, then glared at Fowen. Without pausing, she reached her head and hand into the book, then pulled her head back out and walked the book over to Owen's bed. There she pulled her arm out and gently ran the book down the length of the bed, spilling a still fainted Nowen out onto his bed.

“He wakes up there in the next chapter,” Fowen told her, still squeaking a bit. “I didn't even change the book. Please . . . no more!”

“Sorry, Fowen,” Bethany said. “You know too much, and now there are no forget spells to take care of that. You're going into the horror book!”

“No, please!”

“It's either that, or this one,” she said, holding up the book he'd stuck Nowen in. “You put your other self in there, it's only fair.”

Owen glanced between the two books for a second, then sighed, tapping the second one.

“Good choice,” Bethany said. “Now, I know you can jump out on your own until my powers you stole wear off, so I just want to warn you: I see that cover lift even an inch, and you're clown food. We understand each other?”

Owen nodded sadly and held out his hand.

“And just so you know,” she said, shoving him into the book, “you're the worst Owen
ever
.”

S
o what now?” Bethany asked as she, Kiel, and Owen stood in Doyle's office.

Owen shook his head. What
did
they do now? So much had just happened that he could barely take it all in. Fowen was trapped in a book, which Bethany held close to her, ready to grab him if he tried escaping. It'd only be a day or so before his power ran out, though, and then he'd just be stuck there.

“We should tell Fowen's mother where he is,” Kiel said.

Owen shook his head, walking over to the still-unconscious Doyle. “I think I have a better idea.” He pulled the mask off and saw the voice changer inside. “Let me make a quick phone call.”

Two minutes later Inspector Brown had been informed by “Doyle” that Owen Conners would now be attending the Baker Street School for Irregular Children to be rehabilitated over setting fire to his mother's library. Inspector Brown promised to inform Fowen's mother, and thanked “Doyle” for taking care of all of this. Owen then buzzed a guard and asked to have Fowen's cat, Spike, brought up from wherever he'd hidden him.

He might be Fowen's, but his other self had been right about one thing: It wasn't the cat's fault that his owner was evil. And Owen wasn't going to just leave the cat here.

While Owen retrieved the cat in his carrier from the guard, Kiel and Bethany stood over Moira.

“What about her?” Kiel asked. “She won't remember anything she's done here.”

“No, she won't,” Bethany said. “But we still owe her. I'll take care of it. We'll bring her back with us.” She bent down to grab the hand of the unconscious criminal genius, then paused. “What's this?”

A curled-up piece of paper stuck out of Moira's back pocket. Bethany pulled it out and unrolled it, then went deathly white.

“It's from Doyle's file,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The one on my dad.”

Kiel and Owen both kneeled down next to her, watching in silence as she read it. Finally, she began shaking, and dropped the paper. She immediately threw her arms around Kiel and shoved her face into his shoulder, her back heaving.

Owen picked up the paper and quickly read it. Doyle had actually been fairly thorough, investigating pretty much the entire fictional real world. And at the bottom in bold was his conclusion.

Client's father is presumed dead. There is no record nor trace of him anywhere. Case closed.

A few minutes went by in silence, with Bethany crying into Kiel's shoulder, and Kiel hugging her close. Finally, she pulled away, sniffing loudly and wiping her face on her sleeve. “Let's get out of here,” she said. “I never want to see this place again.”

“Agreed,” Kiel said, not looking much happier than Bethany.

“I can't believe you did that,” Owen told him, taking Bethany's hand. “You gave up all your magic to save us. I don't even know what to say.”

Kiel nodded. “I suppose I could always find a new master and go through the trial of wills and courage to bind a new book to my service.” He shrugged. “Right now, I just want to sleep.”

“Me too,” Bethany said quietly, then took Kiel's hand. Together, Kiel and Owen grabbed both of Moira's hands, with Owen's other hand on the cat carrier, Fowen's terrified cat watching them all with fright. And then Bethany jumped them all out of the book.

•  •  •

“Moira, you're still asleep?” someone yelled. Moira's eyes flew open, and she immediately sat up in bed. Wait, she was asleep? Hadn't she just been somewhere else? Somewhere more incredibly fun?

Her father stood over her, shaking his head. “Promising to be good includes being on time to school, kiddo.”

“I'm up,” she said, stifling a yawn as her eyelids slid closed again. So tired. So very, very tired. What had she been doing all night?

“By the way, this came for you,” her father said, and she felt something light hit her in the lap. She made a face and opened her eyes to find a letter from some school. “Looks like I'm not the only one keeping an eye on you.”

Moira glanced at the letter, suddenly feeling more awake. The Baker Street School for Irregular Children? That was the place all the teenage criminals were so afraid of being sent off to. She wrinkled her nose. How bad could a boarding school really be, though?

“I'll pass,” she said, handing the letter back to her father as she slid out of bed. She kissed his cheek, then went to her closet to find some clothes for school.

Her father grunted. “Just keep your promise and neither of us will have to worry about this,” he said, pointing at the envelope. “You
have
been good, right?”

“Dad,”
Moira said, her hand on the closet doorknob. “It's me! Of
course
I've been good. Angel-like, even! Future civilizations will mark this moment as the goodest anyone's ever been. In fact, I've been
better
than good. I've been
best 
!”

Her dad gave her a suspicious look for a moment, then smiled despite himself. “Get dressed, I'll make breakfast.” With that, he left her room, closing the door behind him.

The Baker Street School. Moira rolled her eyes. Like she'd ever get caught doing something bad enough to get sent
there
.

She opened her closet door . . . and found herself staring at ten overflowing bags of gold coins.

Huh.

Moira reached quietly out and closed the closet door, her hands shaking both from excitement and panic. Not getting caught was suddenly going to be a
lot
more interesting.

O
wen didn't see Kiel or Bethany for a week after returning home, apart from school. After everything that had happened, none of them even brought it up. They all needed a chance to breathe and to decide exactly how to feel about everything that had happened.

Finally, Bethany tossed a note at Owen in Mr. Barberry's class, and Owen saw one hit Kiel, too.

Library tonight?

—B

Owen crumpled up the note and gave the slightest nod back to Bethany. Even knowing it wouldn't happen for hours, his palms began to sweat. He had so much to say, but it all just made him so nervous. Would he really be able to go through with it?

For the rest of the school day, Owen avoided looking at either Kiel or Bethany, not wanting them to see how anxious he was. That wasn't really fair to them, not after everything they'd been through.

Working at the library that night before it closed, Owen wandered around the shelves, looking at all the different books they'd visited. The Narnia books, Sherlock Holmes, and so many more. Finally, he took down
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Source of Magic
and flipped through, going straight to the end as he usually did.

Reading about Charm just made everything better.

Finally, time came for the library to close, and he walked back to his house with his mother, carrying a pile of books that were too broken to keep lending out, so were destined for the book graveyard in Owen's bedroom.

“Don't read those all tonight,” his mother warned him. “I saw that you didn't do any homework at the library, so that gets done first.”

“I know,” Owen said, thinking for the first time that homework might actually be a good distraction.

Needless to say, it wasn't, and was just as horrible as every other time he'd done homework.
Some
things, at least, didn't change.

Eventually his mother turned off her light long after Owen had pretended to go to sleep himself, his new cat, Spike, lying on his chest. Either Spike thought Owen was Fowen, or the cat had decided Owen was close enough, as he followed Owen around everywhere.

A fictional cat now lived in his house. That went well with his robotic heart.

Owen gave his mother another hour to fall asleep, just lying in his bed and petting Spike, wondering how Bethany and Kiel were going to take things tonight.

Several times during that hour, he considered not going. It could wait, after all. But getting it over with seemed like the smarter thing to do, and didn't he owe them the truth, at least?

In his mind, Fowen mocked him. “You're so useless, you're scared to tell your friends what you're thinking,” he said, giving Owen a disgusted look.

“Don't listen to him,” said a different voice in Owen's head, and Charm's robot hand exploded out of her arm, punching Fowen right in the face. “You'll always be the best Kiel ever, Owen.” Then she sighed. “But I'm not real. I'm just you telling yourself these things, so maybe don't listen to me.”

Owen shook the daydream out of his head, sighed, and got up. It was time. Probably past time. He'd be late if he didn't hurry.

He
didn't
hurry. In fact, he was even later than he'd thought he'd be.

Kiel and Bethany were both waiting inside, having used the keys Owen had given them months ago. Neither one was speaking when he walked in, and for a second he wondered if they were nervous about tonight too.

Then Kiel winked, and Owen immediately felt better. Whatever funk had come over Kiel during their time in
The Baker Street School for Irregular Children
seemed to have disappeared, so that was good news.

“Sorry I'm late,” Owen mumbled, taking his seat at their usual table. “What's the plan tonight? Back into looking for your father, or just having fun?”

Bethany didn't look at him. “Neither. I have something to tell you both.”

“Me too,” Owen said quietly.

“I do, as well,” Kiel said. “But you two can go first.”

Bethany glanced up at both of them, and shook her head. “No no, you go.”

Kiel waved her on. “I insist.”

They continued doing this for another few seconds until Owen slapped the table. “I'll go first,” he said, not looking at either of them. “I just wanted to tell you both that . . . I'm done. I'm done with all of this. I'm not jumping into books anymore. We're messing with a whole other world, and I just can't take it anymore.”

Kiel and Bethany both went absolutely silent, and Owen could actually hear his heart beating in his ears. Granted, it was going a mile a minute, but still. Finally, he looked up at both of them.

Weirdly, neither looked surprised.

“I'm finished as well,” Kiel said. “It's time I went back home.” He sighed. “I don't know who I am anymore. Without my magic, what am I? Fowen was right about that, at least. I need to find what life has in store for me now, and I think the place to start is back where I belong.” He looked up at Bethany. “I came here tonight to ask you to take me back into my books.”

Bethany just stared at him sadly for a moment, then nodded. “I was going to tell you that I had to take you back tonight too, Kiel. Because I'm done
too
, too.”