The Crown of Zeus: The Library of Athena Book 1

by Christine Norris

  “I know the story.” She carefully put the sword back on its shelf. “But why is it here and not in a book?”

  “As I said, not all of the objects were put into books. Sir Gregory…ran out of time. They remain here in Sir Gregory’s workroom.”

  “So why didn’t he just leave them in here?” Rachel said. “Why put them in books at all? If this place is a magical room, inside a secret library, why bother?”

  Bailey pursed his lips, as if looking for the right words. “Because the nature of these items is so…powerful…that no chances can be taken. The safest vault in all the world would not keep them safe for long if someone were to discover them. As it is, I believe these items have passed into the annuls of legend.”

  Megan spotted a familiar-looking box. She swallowed hard and stepped away from the shelf. “That looks like the box we found in the Minotaur’s cave. Is it Pandora’s box?”

  Bailey nodded. “Yes, and I was always a bit nervous that particular object remained here.”

  “So what did we throw into the sea?” Megan said, confused.

  “Part of the spell of the book. A perfect replica of Pandora’s Box Sir Gregory wrote inside the story to put off the adventurer. I remember when he came up with the idea. He thought it rather inspired. Ah, here we go. If you would hand me the crown, I’ll just put it in its place.”

  Bailey stood in front of the last shelf, near the back of the room. Megan handed him the golden circlet, almost relieved to be rid of it.

  Nearby was a small round table. Megan skirted around the butler and took a look at it. There were a few unlit but well-used candles, a long thin wand made of wood, an inkpot and several feather quills, one fountain pen, and more books. One lay open. The page was blank.

  “This was also Sir Gregory’s workshop. Here is where all the enchanted books were written.” Bailey stood by the shelves, the crown still in his hand, watching Megan with a look she couldn’t quite read. Was it happiness, or regret? Maybe he just missed his old master.

  Megan blew the dust off the cover of one of the books in the pile. She looked at Bailey, and he nodded that it was safe.

  This book’s story had never been finished, but the magic was already inside. The words literally danced across the page. The ink swirled on the paper, formed and re-formed words and images. It was beautiful, but made her dizzy. She shut the book and put it back on the table, then picked up the wand and waved it over her head, like she had seen wizards do in the movies and on TV. Nothing happened.

  “It won’t work without an incantation.”

  She put the wand back on the table. Magic is pretty cool, I guess. Who would have thought? She considered all she’d been through, and what this place meant to Sir Gregory. She had been brave, hadn’t she? She’d come through with flying colors—with the help of Rachel, Harriet and Claire, of course. Why shouldn’t she take the job?

  “So, this being the Librarian thing. What would I have to, you know, do? I wouldn’t have to do any magic, would I? ’Cause I can’t.”

  “No, not unless you wanted to learn. Just make sure the library stays safe. That’s the primary job requirement.”

  Bailey turned back to the shelves and set the crown in its place on a high shelf. “Back where you belong.”

  “Well, okay then,” Megan said. “I guess I could do it, if it’s that easy. I mean, it’s hidden. How hard could it be? It’s not like there’s a whole mess of people waiting to break in here, right?”

  Rachel smiled. “I knew you’d change your mind.”

  Bailey dusted his hands against each other. “Very good, then. I suppose I must come back here later and clean this room properly. Now, let’s go and collect your friends and go upstairs. Maggie is busy preparing you a lovely brunch.”

  “Uh, isn’t anyone worried about us?” Rachel led the way out of the vault. “We were gone, like, days.”

  “Not as long as you think,” Bailey replied. He waved a hand over the entrance, and the arch closed up. The wall was solid again, complete with owl. “As it is with reading books, days pass within the story, but here in the real world, it is only a few hours. Which, I would venture to say is how long you have been away. I don’t know when you left, so I can’t be certain.” He looked at the ceiling. “Yes, only a few hours, I think.”

  Megan followed his gaze and gasped. The dark sky and stars were gone, and the dome was now the color of a robin’s egg. Clouds floated across, white with just a hint of sunrise pink on the edges. It was fabulous and…magical.

  Yeah, magic is definitely cool.

  She pried her eyes from it and walked with Rachel and Bailey back toward the center aisle, where Claire and Harriet waited for them.

  “So no one’s noticed we were missing?” Megan asked.

  “Not yet,” Bailey said. He shrugged. “Who truly expects young ladies at a sleepover to wake early?”

  Megan giggled—she knew her father didn’t. “Good point. I usually don’t wake up early on weekends anyway. Dad knows better than to wake me up early on a Sunday.”

  “Your father has already left. He said he had some errands to run this morning and won’t be back until after lunch.”

  “Well, at least we won’t have to explain anything to him,” Rachel said. “What would we say?”

  Bailey looked stern. “I would ask you to say nothing. It is enough that three people outside…besides the new Librarian and the servants know about the library. Can I trust you all not to mention the library or its purpose to anyone?”

  “You can count on me,” Megan said. Obviously. If I’m the new Librarian, I can’t very well go blabbing it all over, can I?

  Bailey nodded. “And your friends? You will make sure that they keep the Parthenon’s secret?”

  This was the moment Megan had been afraid of. “I guess so, but…” The moment of truth had come. There was no way to avoid it any longer.

  “I don’t know if they’re still my friends or not.”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding? We’re best mates now, aren’t we? After everything we’ve been through, how could we not be?”

  “But I…all this…” Megan stumbled over her words. “You all almost died, like three times. You should be super mad at me! You should yell and scream at me and run from my house like a crazy person. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  Rachel placed a hand on her chest. “I’m a little offended you would think something as small as being sucked into a book and almost being killed would stop me from being your friend. No, dear, you’re stuck with me. And I’m sure Claire and Harriet feel exactly the same.”

  Claire nodded. “Absolutely. How could I turn my back on you now? We all have our little quirks. Rachel doesn’t know when to quit, Harriet can’t stop complaining—”

  “You’re a bloody walking encyclopedia,” Rachel chimed in.

  “—and you, Megan, have a library in your basement full of books that could kill us,” Claire finished. “It all works out.”

  Harriet, the bruise over her eye an even deeper shade of purple, remained silent but nodded slowly.

  Rachel gave an impish smile. “Besides, you throw the best sleepovers.”

  Megan laughed, and gratefully, with a few tears, accepted the hug Rachel offered. “Thanks.”

  “And as for keeping your secret, well, that’s what best friends do, isn’t it?” Rachel looked at Bailey “I won’t tell a soul.”

  Bailey gave a short nod and looked at Claire and Harriet. “And you ladies?”

  “I’m sure Claire won’t,” Rachel said. She glared at Harriet. “Harriet here might take a bit of convincing. But we’ll make sure she keeps her mouth shut or I’ll kick her in the bum.”

  Harriet looked at Megan, her eyes glassy. “Where did you go?” she said crossly. “My head hurts.” She touched the spot gingerly. “I think I hit it on something.”

  “What happened to her, Claire?” Rachel muttered.

  “I don’t know,” Claire said. “After w
e saw you go by, she passed out for a few seconds. When she woke up, she didn’t remember anything.”

  Harriet looked dazed. “We were looking at that Greek statue on the landing. It was the middle of the night.” She looked around. “How did we get here? Looks like a library.”

  Megan gave a grateful sigh. At least that problem was solved. She wouldn’t spill the secret, even by accident. “It’s okay, Harriet. It’s not important, and we’re going now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure, Harriet. Tell you what, no horseback riding today. We’ll go shopping instead.” Megan pulled the library door open and held it for Harriet and Claire.

  “But first, some breakfast. I’m starved.”

  Rachel gave her a little bow. “You first, best friend.”

  Megan grinned. Who needs New York?

  About the Author

  Christine Norris is the author of several works for children and adults. She spends her time divided between her writing, substitute teaching, and caring for her family of one husband-creature, a son-animal, a large dog whose greatest achievement is sleeping in one position for an entire day, and a small feline who is very adept in his position as Guardian of the Bathtub. She also works at English Adaptations of novels translated from other languages

  To learn more about Christine Norris, please visit www.christine-norris.com. Send an email to Christine at christinenorris02@gmail.com.

  Look for these titles

  Coming Soon

  The Ankh of Isis

  Megan gets lost in books. Literally.

  The Ankh of Isis

  © 2008 Christine Norris

  The Library of Athena, Book 2

  Megan Montgomery is looking forward to a nice, quiet Easter holiday. No school, no homework, time with her friends. Then her father informs her Mr. Hemmlich, a potential client and archaeologist, is coming to stay with them for the entire week. Her dreams of goofing off go up in smoke—until Hemmlich arrives with his handsome teenage son in tow. Things are definitely looking up.

  Megan’s excitement quickly turns to suspicion when Hemmlich starts asking questions about the manor and its builder, Sir Gregory. Is it just admiration for Sir Gregory’s work? Or could Hemmlich know about the Library of Athena, the secret room full of magic books hidden deep beneath the manor? It shouldn’t be possible.

  But then again, if she can get sucked inside a book…

  Coming Summer 2008 from Samhain Publishing

  Some things are worth being grounded for life.

  A Fox in the Bag

  © 2007 Tamsin Grace

  Carlie Trakker lives for adventure.

  Two years ago, she chased a poacher through the national park where her dad works as a supervising ranger. That man got away, but finding evidence that someone else is poaching on “her” land makes her even more determined to catch the criminal. If the threat of being grounded for life doesn’t scare her, she’s not going to let the pain of a not-quite-healed broken leg slow her down.

  It’s going to take inventiveness, excellent timing and old-fashioned rule breaking to get the information she needs, but Carlie’s got it under control. Or so she thinks until she’s kidnapped by the very man she’s trying to track down. How’s she going to save the foxes now? And who’s going to tell her dad?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Fox in the Bag:

  Lucas Keeling was already at the station when they arrived, sitting in his dusty Ford truck and flipping through his logbook.

  Five minutes alone with that logbook, Carlie thought, watching Lucas and her dad take the fox, camera and forensic kit inside the station. Brushing the idea aside as next to impossible, she took the horses to the stable and wiped them down before feeding and watering them. By the time she finished and went inside the station, her dad was getting his jacket back on.

  “Lucas and I are going to Buffalo Woman Lake.” He picked up the phone and hit a speed dial combination. “Opal should be able to take you home.”

  “Is it the second den?” She blurted the question and then felt her cheeks flush. When she was sure she wouldn’t sound too eager, she continued. “They didn’t hit the park twice, did they?”

  Lucas looked at his logbook and pretended to ignore her while her dad called Opal, Carlie’s godmother. She was positive Lucas was only pretending to ignore her because he was grinning. She’d known Lucas almost her whole life and he was just as bad as her dad when it came to being overprotective of her. Only Lucas hadn’t lost his sense of humor. Nope, there was no way she was going to directly ferret anything from him. Visiting her in the hospital two years ago after she broke her leg on the mountain, he had vowed that she would never get another chance to play wildlife detective with any of his information again. And he’d managed not to drop a single clue around her since then.

  Carlie’s dad hung up the phone and tapped her shoulder. “Jeff will be back in about fifteen minutes and Opal should be here in thirty. Are you okay to stay alone?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Her answer held a distracted quality, her mind racing to think of where in the office she could search first. The trashcan? The daily reports?

  He put his hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. “Maybe Opal should take you to Riley’s.”

  “No!” Doc Riley would put her leg in a brace just to keep her out of any further trouble. Sometimes the whole town seemed ready to lock her up “for her own good.” She answered her dad again, only slower. “No. I don’t think a trip to the doctor is necessary.”

  “Well, we’ll see how things look in the morning.” His tone promised nothing and he gave her a quick hug before he followed the still-grinning Lucas out the door. They carried most of the evidence with them, as well as a second forensic kit.

  Carlie waited until she could no longer hear the rumble of Lucas’s truck before she peeked out the window. Comfortable that they were really gone, she checked her dad’s trashcan first. Empty. She scanned the top of his desk next but, as always, he had put everything inside of it.

  She hesitated at the drawers to his desk, her face and chest warming with the flush of temptation. The drawers would be unlocked but were off-limits. Right or wrong, she had started the day with the expectation that her little act of disobedience in hiking alone to Tully Lake wouldn’t be discovered, if at all, until the contest results were announced and then only if she won the scholarship. But when it came to rifling through his desk, he’d know if so much as one pencil was out of place—particularly since she’d already given him reason to be suspicious—and then the fox wouldn’t be the only creature with its hide skinned today.

  The same prohibition applied to the filing cabinets and so Carlie moved on to Jeff’s trashcan. She picked past a half-eaten, open submarine sandwich and some coffee grounds that had spilled from a filter. Below that layer, she found only colored fliers announcing last week’s “Going to the Sun” night hike. Below that, nothing.

  She could hear the clock ticking down as she checked the recyclables bins. Nothing but newspaper. Empty-handed, she plopped down in Jeff’s chair, her eyes lazily scanning his desktop. Jeff, having already been reprimanded by her dad, meticulously kept even the most remotely confidential material in his desk or in one of the filing cabinets.

  “Not today!” Carlie yelled, her hands leaping out to grab Jeff’s notebook. It wasn’t quite the same as if she had found his logbook, which he probably took with him, but she still gave a little victory “woot!”

  She started with the most recent entry and worked her way backwards, finding precious little information she didn’t already have. Someone had reported a white Blazer in restricted areas, including the location of the first den and another near Buffalo Woman Lake. The reports, however, conflicted with one another. One witness said the Blazer had Montana plates, another witness said Idaho plates.

  “Some clue,” Carlie groaned. Flathead County alone had a couple dozen white Blazers registered in it. Heck, even her godmother, Opal, owned a
white Blazer.

  Returning her attention to the notebook, she read that Jeff also had recorded some loose conversation on poaching activity. There were rumors of a quarry farm, where wild animals were kept and then released for hunting, in Dillon and Livingston, Montana, and another outside of Bonners Ferry in Idaho.

  Still reading, she heard the door to Jeff’s Jeep slam shut. She replaced the notebook on the desk and scurried across to her dad’s desk just as Jeff finished unlocking the door to the ranger’s station.

  “Your dad gone already?”

  A little breathless, Carlie nodded. Jeff gave her a suspicious glance before he tossed his logbook and a park map on top of his desk. He sat down, gave a hesitant frown, then leaned toward her. “Did you hear anything?”

  Grinning, she shook her head. “Nope.”

  “What about the den?” His fingers strummed along the top of his desk. “Did you see anything?”

  “Nope.” Knowing that Jeff—technically an adult, although still in college—was equally in the dark sparked a certain gleeful joy that flushed her cheeks.

  “What about the pictures?” he asked.

  “You mean from the digital camera?” she said.

  “Yeah.” His head had a slightly conspiratorial tilt to it. “Won’t Lucas need a copy?”

  Love bites when a seventeen-year-old vampire and witch tangle.

  The Vampire…In My Dreams

  © 2007 Terry Lee Wilde

  Marissa Lakeland faces her worst nightmare one dark and misty night when she chases a gorgeous hunk of a guy to prove he’s a vampire. So why does the thought of tall, dark and vampiric appeal to Marissa, when there’s no way a vampire can compel a witch to do his bidding? At least that’s what she’s read in vampire lore. But lore can be mistaken.

  Fledgling vampire Dominic Vorchowski knows Marissa’s the only one who can save him. Only why does she have to be a witch? Fate has thrown him together with the bewitching Marissa and if he gains her trust, he’ll have his life back again. Except for that whole eternal thirst for blood thing. And the fangs. Not to mention the aversion to intense sunlight. In any event, he’s set his sights on one girl who’s totally off the menu.