by Anna James
“You knew her?” Tilly said.
“Why, yes, we actually went to university together. She would have so loved to hear about your first bookwander. Anyway, there will be time to reminisce soon enough. Let’s go and find the Reference Librarian to get you two registered,” she said, giving both Oskar and Tilly an encouraging nod.
They went back out into the long corridor and walked a few meters down to a door where the number was covered by a handwritten sign in spidery letters that read “By Appointment Only.”
“Ignore that,” Amelia said. “Much as he hates it, I am still his boss and definitely do not need an appointment to see him.” She pushed the door open at the same time as knocking, and the others followed her into a room that was almost identical in shape and size to hers, but much more sparsely furnished and with walls covered with metal filing cabinets and shelves full of huge, uniformly sized books.
“I do not tolerate people opening my door without knock—Ah, good afternoon, Ms. Whisper. I see you have guests,” an icy voice said.
“You,” breathed Tilly as Enoch Chalk turned round to face them.
19
Getting Lost in a Good Book
Grandad nodded curtly at Chalk, who swept a handkerchief covered in what looked like soot into the top drawer of his desk and shut it firmly.
“Good to see you still in your old office, Enoch,” Grandad said in a polite but chilly voice.
Chalk’s face contorted into a twisted version of a smile. “Why, yes, Archibald. Still here, still Reference Librarian, as you well know. I like it very much here—less politics, fewer opportunities for things to go awry. You know how it is. As you can see Amelia is doing an admirable job.”
Amelia coughed. “Well, as heartwarming as this reunion is, we’re here on official business. Enoch, we need to get Matilda and Oskar registered as bookwanderers.”
“Of course,” he said, going to pull out one of the huge volumes on his shelves.
Tilly looked at Grandad in a panic. “He works here?” she whispered, but Grandad was entirely focused on watching Chalk.
Tilly steeled herself. “Why are you here?” she croaked.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“What did you say, girl?” Chalk said.
Tilly swallowed and thought of the look of righteous indignation when Anne had cracked the slate over Gilbert’s head. Be brave . . .
“I said, ‘Why are you here?’” she repeated, her voice more even this time.
“Where else would I be?” Chalk replied. “This is my office.”
“But wherever I’ve been in the last few days, you’ve been there too! Are you following me?” Tilly said, a little more fiercely again.
At this Amelia started. “When have you met Matilda before, Enoch? This is the first time Archie has brought her here.”
Tilly jumped in before Chalk could reply. “We’ve met three times before! The first time when he came to visit Grandad in the shop and then twice inside books. He was in both of the books I visited.”
Everyone stopped looking at Tilly and turned their heads toward Chalk.
“You stamped Tilly?” Amelia said quietly.
“A mere routine check, I assure you,” Chalk said. “It was such a pleasant surprise to learn of her existence when I popped in to Pages & Co., and she clearly has bookwandering in her blood, so I thought no harm in a quick trace stamp to see if she’d encountered any characters yet.”
“That’s very . . . dutiful of you,” Amelia said.
“You know my research interests lie in the earliest signs of bookwandering and the abilities of our younger wanderers,” Chalk said, still calm. “With such potent genes as Matilda here has it seemed a waste not to monitor how her abilities were developing.”
“It seems a slightly irregular use of stamping,” Amelia said, tilting her head. “We’ll come back to this, Enoch.”
“What’s stamping?” Tilly asked.
“It’s something a Senior Librarian can use to access a book they do not physically have possession of,” Amelia said. “But it’s not something you need to worry about.
“And why did you visit Pages & Co. in the first place, Enoch?” Amelia turned her focus back to Chalk.
“I had a query I thought Archibald might be best placed to help with, but I’m afraid he was not.”
“I really think, considering the circumstances, that you should have let me know in advance of your visit to Archie,” Amelia said.
“I would remind you that, while you may be the Librarian, I am not required to have visits to bookshops approved in advance,” he said coldly.
Amelia frowned and cleared her throat. “We will talk about this more in private, Enoch, but now it’s time to register Tilly and Oskar.”
Chalk nodded his head a fraction and beckoned Tilly over and gestured to the ledger.
“Name?”
“Matilda Rose Pages.”
“Age at first bookwander?”
“Eleven.”
“Home bookshop?”
“Pages & Co., I suppose?” Tilly looked questioningly at Grandad, who nodded.
“Owner of said bookshop?”
“Archibald and Elisabeth Pages.”
“You’re done. And the boy next.”
Amelia nodded encouragingly at Oskar.
“Name?” Chalk said.
“Oskar Lucas Roux.”
“Age at first bookwander?”
“Eleven.”
“Home bookshop?”
“Pages & Co. as well, I guess?” Oskar said, unsure.
“I think so too,” Amelia said, and Grandad nodded.
“Owner of said bookshop?”
“You literally just wrote it down for Tilly,” Oskar said.
Chalk waited.
“Archibald and Elisabeth Pages,” Oskar said.
Chalk finished writing the details down, recapped his fountain pen, precisely replaced it in a groove on his desk, and closed the ledger. The others watched as he brushed the already completely clean front cover, stood up, and ceremoniously slid it back onto the shelf. Tilly was sure she caught Amelia rolling her eyes.
“Are all these books full of bookwanderers?” Tilly asked. “Why do you keep all these records?”
“Yes, they are,” Amelia replied. “The Underlibrary has been operating for a very long time and we believe people have had the ability to bookwander since books were first invented. More importantly, we keep records so we can keep track. We can’t have unmonitored readers wandering around important texts, and we can’t have characters straying out of their assigned pages without our knowledge.
“And it’s also a wonderful record of our history,” Amelia added. “A family tree of readers.”
“Are you in here?” Tilly asked shyly.
“Yes, of course!” Amelia said, pulling down a ledger from a top shelf and flicking through its pages. “Here we go!”
Oskar and Tilly peered over her shoulder and saw her details recorded just as theirs had been.
“Can we see yours too?” Oskar asked Chalk.
“No, you may not,” he said. “It would be an invasion of privacy.”
“Nonsense, Enoch,” Amelia said, sounding exasperated. “What harm can it do? It’s wonderful that new bookwanderers want to see more of our history. What year would you have been registered?”
Two pink spots of rage flashed on Chalk’s pale cheeks.
“I have no desire to share personal information with these two children.”
Amelia sighed and let it go.
“I have a question,” said Oskar, putting his hand up as though he was at school. “Would we be able to see ourselves in a book after we’d been inside? Can we go back to Pages and find ourselves in Anne of Green Gables?”
“Good question,”
Amelia said, smiling. “When you walk into a book it’s one of usually thousands of copies of that book, and you can’t do any lasting damage to it, whatever you do while you’re inside. As soon as you leave, the story will revert to the original, and your actions while you were inside it won’t affect anyone else’s version of the book. We don’t recommend straying too far from the original story when you are bookwandering, but it’s not possible for you to permanently change a story that you didn’t create. Apart from in the Source Library, of course, where—”
Chalk interrupted her. “That’s classified information, Ms. Whisper.”
“Not for bookwanderers, Enoch,” Amelia replied. She pulled out the key that was on the chain round her neck. “There are only two of these keys in existence: this one here and the one that belongs to Mr. Chalk. They are the only way to access the Source Library, where a first edition of every book in English is kept. Two copies of every book are delivered upstairs to the British Library. One goes into their stocks, and one comes down to us via Julian, the librarian upstairs whose job it is to liaise between the two libraries. Once it’s delivered it’s stamped and cataloged as a Source and imbued with the protections and powers of one. Those editions are fiercely protected because, if you travel in those books, you risk permanently altering the stories inside for all readers to come. And not to mention the fact that those books are particularly potent, and the original characters in them have a permanency and power that other editions don’t; it’s very important we keep Source characters in, and readers out.”
“And changing the story would be bad, right?” said Oskar.
“It would be a disaster, Oskar,” said Amelia. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you two how powerful books are. Books can change minds and change worlds, open doors and open minds, and plant seeds that can grow into magical or even terrifying things. Stories are things to be loved and respected at the same time; never underestimate the power of them. It’s why books are often casualties of censorship; those who ban or burn books are those who are scared of what can be found among their pages. But imagine what might happen if those people also knew there was a way to permanently damage those stories; it’s why we are so secretive. What we do could be put to such terrible use in the wrong hands.”
“But regular bookwandering isn’t dangerous, right?” Tilly asked nervously.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” said Amelia. “Though the stories will always snap back to the original text once readers return to the real world, it gets a little bit more complicated while they are inside the story. As you’ll know from visiting Avonlea, the world you are in is as real as it feels when you’re reading it. You can touch things; you can eat and drink; you can interact with the story—however, that also means that you can get hurt, and even die. And, of course, there is always the danger of getting lost in a book. If you stay for too long, your knowledge of your real life starts to become hazy and time gets muddled. Although everything would come flooding back the moment you left, you run the risk of forgetting there is a real life to return to, not to mention you age unpredictably inside books. Stories enhance our lives; they shouldn’t replace them.
“And that is just the good books; it’s even easier to get lost in a bad book. Plot holes can be lethal.”
Chalk shot Amelia a look, clearly growing impatient. “Much as it’s delightful for me to listen to this, do you think you could take your personal conversations outside my office?”
“Come on then, we won’t intrude on Mr. Chalk’s time or carpet any longer. Any other questions you have will be answered in your induction,” Amelia said. “Let’s go and see if Sebastian has time to do that for you now.”
Chalk watched them leave in silence before shutting the door firmly enough for it to be categorized as a slam, if you were paying attention, which no one really was anymore.
20
The Absolute Safest Books You Can Travel Into
Grandad, Amelia, Tilly, and Oskar walked back into the main hall, which was still a flurry of activity. A librarian came up to Amelia and talked quietly into her ear. Tilly pressed close to Grandad, trying to hear what the woman was saying, but she couldn’t make it out.
“Thanks, Maddy,” was all Amelia said in response, and the other librarian peeled off from their group as Amelia led them to a grand staircase in the middle of one of the long walls. The steps were made of marble and had ornate copper banisters leading up all five floors. They trooped up several flights of steps and emerged on the fourth floor, which was lined with tall shelves of books. One end opened out onto the hall, where some of the boxes of books Tilly and Oskar had seen being loaded downstairs were sliding onto a pulley system and being emptied by two librarians; the other end was lined with mirrors, making the room look like it stretched out endlessly.
There were several upright burgundy-leather chairs surrounding an oval wooden table, which had a brass and green glass lamp at its center. A very neatly dressed man who wore his cardigan with a white shirt and bow tie came to greet them.
“Ms. Whisper, a pleasure,” he said, pushing the bridge of his black glasses farther up his nose and bobbing his head in a deferential bow of sorts. “Are these our new bookwanderers?”
“Hi, Seb, yes. Sorry for the lack of notice, but do you have time for an induction, even if it’s just the abridged version? This is Oskar Roux, and this is Matilda Pages. And this is her grandfather, Archie Pages.”
Seb started at Grandad’s name, but quickly composed himself and held out his hand to Grandad, who shook it firmly. “Good to meet you, sir. And thrilled to have you among our ranks, Oskar and Tilly. Happy to fit you in for an induction, of course. You’ve saved me from my cataloging. Take a seat.” He gestured to the leather armchairs and table.
“Do you need us to stay, Seb?” Amelia asked. “Archie and I have a lot to catch up on, if you can spare us?”
“We’ll be absolutely fine here,” Seb replied. “I’ll get one of the others to come and get you when we’re finished. I imagine these two are naturals anyway.”
“Thanks, Seb,” Amelia said, touching Grandad’s elbow gently to motion him to leave.
Tilly looked at him, feeling a little panicked by how quickly everything had escalated over the last few hours.
“You’re safe here, Tilly,” Grandad reassured her. “Seb can come and get me if you need anything at all and I’ll just be downstairs in Amelia’s office. Have fun. Listen carefully.”
When Grandad and Amelia had left, Seb sat down with Oskar and Tilly at the wooden table, smiling encouragingly.
“So, when did you chaps first realize you could bookwander?” he asked, smoothing his cardigan down.
“Well, Anne—you know, from Anne of Green Gables—first appeared in the bookshop last week, but we only found out it was called bookwandering about an hour ago,” Tilly said.
“Goodness, rather a baptism of fire, as the saying goes,” Seb said, smiling. “Nothing to worry about; we can take things nice and steady. We don’t need to run before we can walk. I’m here to answer all your questions and let you practice in a safe, controlled environment. Is there anything you want to know before we start? I’m unsure what you’ve been told so far.”
Tilly and Oskar sat in stunned silence for a moment, wondering where to begin.
“How come I never saw any characters in the real world but I could follow Tilly into Anne of Green Gables?” Oskar asked.
Seb looked startled. “You followed Tilly into a book? Are you sure? I’ve only heard of that happening once in a blue moon.”
“Yes, Anne took us both in at the same time, even though I couldn’t see her in the shop and we all . . . wandered? Appeared? Okay, actually I have a new question.” Oskar interrupted his own train of thought. “Are we talking about magic here?”
Seb smiled again. “In short, yes. We are talking about book magic. Bookwandering is, at its core,
the magic of books and imagination pushed to its limit, and then tipped over a little bit farther. There are millions of readers across the world and throughout time who have loved books, who can vividly imagine their favorite scenes and characters, who have real and important relationships with books, but there are only a handful of us who can wander. I’m afraid there aren’t any spells or magic words, and limited numbers of dragons and witches, but we are definitely dealing with magic.”
“I figured,” Oskar said.
“You seem very relaxed about all of this,” Tilly said. She did not feel relaxed about anything she had learned over the last hour or so.
“Well, now it’s happened, I’m glad to have some explanations for it, you know?” Oskar said. “It would be way worse if no one had been able to tell us what was going on, right?”
“I guess so,” Tilly said, unconvinced. “Hang on. Can we just go back to you saying there were limited numbers of dragons and witches? Why aren’t there no dragons and witches?”
“Well, if you visit a book with dragons and witches, you will encounter dragons and witches in the book,” Seb said. “A key part of what I need you to understand is that the things you come across in books are very real if you are inside a book. A dragon is a dragon is a dragon. Some books are more dangerous than others. In fact, that’s part of the reason we use these books for practicing,” he said, dropping a pile of slim, colorful books onto the table. “We’re going to start with the basics; it’s vital you learn how to control when you bookwander and how to get in and out when you want. You should hear some of the ancient librarian stories about people getting stuck . . .” He tailed off and swallowed awkwardly. “But we have the Archivists if things go really wrong.”
“The Archivists?” Tilly repeated.
“They’re sort of like the United Nations of bookwandering. Every country has its own Underlibrary, but then above them there are the Archivists. I’ve never even seen them, and I believe the Archive itself moves locations—but theoretically they’re brought in if things get out of hand. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if they’re a bit of an old wives’ tale themselves: no one here has ever had to deal with them as far as I know. Anyway.”
