The Stolen Chapters (5 page)

“I know you said this Kiel boy wasn't dangerous and that the Conners kid was the one to worry about, but are you sure?” the police officer said, then stopped. “No, of course I didn't mean to doubt you! I apologize, sir.”

What?
Kiel Gnomenfoot not dangerous? And Owen Conners was the one to worry about? What sort of upside-down world
was
the nonfictional world?

Kiel loved Owen like a brother, of course, but dangerous wasn't the first word that came to mind. And Kiel had taken down dragons, giants, and fire-breathing unicorns! Not dangerous?! Whoever was on the other end of the line was clearly not dealing with a full spell book.

“We're taking the Conners kid to the station,” the police officer continued. “We'll interrogate him there, and . . . no, you're right. Whatever you say. This is your case, after all. Yes sir, I'll keep you updated. Yes, sir, thank
you
, Mr. Holmes.”

Kiel's eyes widened. Holmes?
Doyle
Holmes? Were the police working with the boy who kidnapped Bethany? Or was there another Holmes? Owen had mentioned a grandfather, so maybe there were more family members involved.

Of course, the Holmes family was also supposed to be fictional. Or was just Doyle fictional? Kiel shook his head. If Owen hadn't surrendered, he'd be around to answer these questions, instead of letting them give Kiel
more
of a headache.

This would have been the perfect time for any number of spells, but instead, Kiel just waited until the police officer moved out of sight, then went back to searching the ground. Just as he was about to give up, the fire's light lit up footprints in the dirt, leading away from the library.

Ah. Let's see who was dangerous
now
, Doyle.

Kiel followed the trail through the woods and down through some backyards. The path struck Kiel as a bit familiar, but that wasn't too surprising. He, Owen, and Bethany had gotten used to walking back and forth to the library at night for their adventures. Hadn't they?

And then the footprints ended at a house, and Kiel skidded to a stop, sighing heavily.

Owen's
house. The footprints led to the back door of Owen's house. He'd been following Owen's footprints the whole time, probably from the last time they'd all jumped into a book, which was . . . recently? Maybe?

Kiel started back toward the library, then stopped. Doyle would be long gone by now, and the only thing back there were police. But without another clue, how exactly was he supposed to find Bethany or Doyle? Especially after wasting so much time following the wrong tracks?

Wait. He
did
have another clue. The police were working with a Holmes, maybe Doyle. And that meant there was definitely a place he could go to find out more.

And he really should rescue Owen. It wouldn't do to leave his friend locked up, even if Owen had unwisely given himself up. And who else knew the boring, unmagical, nonfictional world like Owen?

With new purpose, Kiel set out for the police station, shaking his head at the idea of having to jog the whole way. Magic was just so much easier for getting around!

Kiel had been without magic before, of course. Both before he'd met the Magister, and then when the Magister had made him forget all of his magic after they'd met Bethany, and his master had gone off the deep end.

But he'd gotten the magic back . . . somehow. Somewhere in the fog, there was a memory of what he'd done.

Kiel slowly breathed in and tried to think of something, anything that'd help him remember.

Bethany's face came to mind, and he smiled in spite of himself.

Then Bethany's face morphed into Charm's, and he gasped out loud as the memory slammed into his head like a hammer.

Two months ago . . .

“So I'm not real,” Kiel Gnomenfoot said quietly, staring at his hands.

“What makes you think that?” the Magister asked, the hints of a smile playing over his face.

“I'm made of science, Magi,” Kiel said, shaking his head. “Dr. Verity formed me from that unnatural—”

“Science is about as natural as you could possibly
get
,” Charm said, her robotic eye narrowing in irritation. Kiel glared at her, and she turned away guiltily. “But, um, I understand your point,” she finished.

“He
made
me!” Kiel said, shouting now. “I was never meant to exist. All I am is a clown—”

“Clone,” Charm pointed out.

“Of the man who's currently trying to destroy Magisteria.” Kiel sighed. “And Magisteria isn't even
my
world, is it? If I'm a clown—”

“Clone.”

“Then I'm actually
Quanterian
.” Kiel grabbed his apprentice spell book, his face contorted in anger, and threw it across the room.

The spell book froze as soon as it left his hand, then turned in midair to glare at its owner. Kiel ignored it, dropping to the floor to sit cross-legged with his head in his hands.

“I'm not even
real
,” he said again.

The Magister circled around Kiel, then kneeled in front of the boy and pulled Kiel's chin up to look his apprentice in the eye. “You assume that real is something anyone would want to be.”

Kiel gave his master a sad look. “Magi, now isn't the greatest time for a lesson.”

“What is magic if not forcing unreality to
become
real?” the Magister asked. “So Dr. Verity recreated himself, giving us you. Do
you
want to destroy Magisteria?”

Kiel shrugged. “Only sometimes. When people annoy me.”

“And what could be more real than that!” the Magister said, clapping Kiel on the shoulder.

Kiel snorted, then shook his head. “I can't be him, Magi. I
can't
! What if I turn out just like he did? What if I'm destined for evil? And look at him!
That's
what I'm going to look like when I'm older?”

“Ugh,”
Charm groaned, and Kiel could almost feel her rolling her eyes.

“You will be whatever you
decide
to be,” the Magister told Kiel gently. “The idea of destiny is something we made up to justify whatever we wanted to do. You are no more destined to become Dr. Verity than I am to turn Alphonse into a dog.”

Alphonse, Kiel's cat, stopped licking his wings for a moment to look at the Magister, then shrugged and returned to his important bathing.

“I'm not sure any of this is helping,” Kiel pointed out as he pushed to his feet. “But I suppose I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. Charm can't get the last three keys by herself—”

“Actually—”

“Even if she's far too proud to admit how much help she needs,” Kiel continued. “I'll just have to soldier on and hope that my natural talent and intelligence is enough to keep me from turning into Dr. Verity.”

The Magister smiled. “I have the utmost faith in your . . . talent and intelligence.”

“Of course you do,” Kiel said, shrugging. “We all do.”

Charm clenched her fists and slowly took several deep breaths. “If we don't leave
now
, I swear I will ray gun you.”

“She has trouble admitting her feelings for me,” Kiel whispered to the Magister, who nodded, still smiling. Kiel walked over to stand next to Charm and made an impatient gesture. “Uh, let's
go
already.”

Charm's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream at him just as they both disappeared in a flash of light.

The Magister smiled, dropping into his chair. So Kiel Gnomenfoot had finally learned he was a clone of Dr. Verity. The day the Magister had dreaded for so long had now come, and the boy was taking it about as well as anyone could, finding out that he was the creation of a madman.

But would the boy take the truth about the Source of Magic quite so well?

To be continued in
Kiel Gnomenfoot and the School for Wizardry
, book five of the Kiel Gnomenfoot saga.

“Magi?” said a soft voice from behind him, and the Magister turned around in his chair to find Kiel looking at him strangely, Charm standing just behind him. Oddly, Charm was giving the Magister a look of almost palpable hatred. Usually those looks were directed more at Kiel than himself.

“Back so soon, my boy?” the Magister asked.

“I, uh, forgot my spell book,” Kiel said, and held out a hand toward the still-floating, still-angry apprentice spell book. The book floated over to him in a sulking sort of way, then shrank down to the size of a coin, and Kiel slipped it into a pouch on his belt.

“I thought you had moved beyond the need for it?” the Magister asked. “You didn't need it to find the Fourth Key, after all.”

“Can't hurt to have a backup,” Kiel said, then slowly took a step back.

“Kiel,” the Magister said slowly, “I know why you're here.”

Kiel froze. “You do?”

“Because it occurred to you that if you're a clone, then I have misled you about your parents,” the Magister said.

Kiel paused. “That's it. You're right. But just hearing you admit it, that's really enough. I should get back to things—”

“I couldn't tell you the truth, my boy,” the Magister said, his voice dropping low. “I cannot apologize enough, but you had to find out on your own, when you were ready.”

“I'm not sure I was
ever
ready for some truths,” Kiel said.

The Magister nodded. “I understand, believe me. Truth is a sword with no hilt. We grab for it at our own peril, at times.”

“The truth, like how you're secretly planning on destroying Quanterium?” Charm mumbled, and the Magister blinked. He must have misheard her.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” he asked the glaring girl.

“Nothing,” Kiel said, throwing Charm an annoyed look. “We really should get going. Keys to find, crazy madmen to fight, that sort of thing . . .”

“Kiel,” the Magister said, and opened his arms. “Please tell me you forgive me.”

Kiel's eyes widened slightly, and oddly, he looked up at the ceiling. “Seriously?” he whispered to no one in particular.

“Of course I am serious,” the Magister responded, a bit confused. He gestured for Kiel to hug him. “Please, my boy. I can't tell you how sorry I am to have deceived you.”

Kiel gritted his teeth, then stepped forward and hugged the Magister, who smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Kiel quickly pushed back, then stepped away. “Well, gotta go!” he said, and raised a hand into the air.

“You don't have your teleport button,” the Magister pointed out.

“Charm's got it,” Kiel said as she took his hand.

“Good luck, my boy,” the Magister said.

“Magi,” Kiel said, avoiding his teacher's eyes, “if
you
ever find out something that turns your whole life upside down, like I just did, try not to turn crazy and evil. As a favor to me.”

The Magister smiled. “You have my word.”

Kiel sighed, then disappeared with Charm from the Magister's tower, reappearing in the middle of a dark library.

“I
really
wanted to hit him,” Charm said. Kiel mumbled some words and the disguise spell faded, revealing Bethany in Charm's place.

“Did you see him
hug
me?!” Kiel shouted at her, his face contorted with disgust. “UGH. I need to bathe.”

“But he's the Magister!” Owen said from where he sat on a nearby table. “You
love
him.”

“It's amazing what happens to your relationship when your adopted father tries to kill you,” Kiel said with a shrug. “Plus, if he hadn't forget-spelled the magic out of my head, I'd never have had to steal my own spell book in the first place.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny still-sulky book, which quickly expanded into a normal-size still-sulky spell book.

“So you're sure this book has the spell?” Bethany asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously.

“Trust me,” Kiel said, winking at her. He tried to open the cover, and the book snapped at him.
“Hey!”
he shouted. “Bad book! Don't do that again.” He pointed a finger in warning at the book, and it pouted, then flipped open to the right page. Kiel held the book up for Owen and Bethany to see.

Illumination of Location,
the page said.

“So who wants to find Bethany's father, then?” Kiel asked, grinning widely.

•  •  •

The memory hit Kiel hard, and it almost staggered him.

Just like it did to Owen, who looked around almost in disbelief, his head throbbing. Where had
that
come from?

01:42:56

M
emories weren't supposed to almost knock you over. Since when did that happen? And why had it hit him so suddenly, out of nowhere? For a second Owen almost lost track of where he was, but the sight of a police officer filling out paperwork at the counter of the police station reminded him quickly enough.

Someone bumped into him, and Owen looked up to find a burly man who smelled like burned hair staring down at him. Owen quickly backed up into the police officer, who pushed him back toward the man.

One meaty hand hit Owen's shoulder. “Excuse me,” the man said politely. “Sorry about that. Didn't mean to bump into you.” And with that, he pulled off a beard and tossed it onto the counter, followed by his stinky overcoat.

As the man peeled off his disguise, he revealed a tailored suit, hair that wasn't even mussed by a wig, and a face with no smile lines. He patted Owen's shoulder once, then dropped the rest of the disguise onto the counter and turned to walk away.

“How'd it go, Inspector?” the officer at the counter shouted.