Suddenly the page lifts, although Jules hasn’t touched it. Itflips backward, and then the next sheet does the same, and so on, a cascade of paper like a curling wave.
“What’s happening?” Delilah whispers.
But I have no idea. I’ve never seen this before.
The paper falls flat at the very beginning of the book—the copyright page. It’s a territory we’ve never explored—mostly empty space with small clouds formed of letters that cast shadows on the ground. It’s quite far away from all the other pages, and without mountains or trees or water or castles, there just isn’t any reason to tread there, which is why we characters have pretty much forgotten it even exists.
Jules looks up at us, her eyes shining. “This night just keeps getting more awesome,” she says, and in that instant, she disappears.
EDGAR
I’m going to kill him.
It’s been two days since Frump disappeared, and ever since then, I’ve been trying to shake this stupid dog, which has basically become my shadow.
“I love biscuits,” Humphrey sighs as he walks beside me, practically vibrating with joy. “Delilah gave me biscuits. They’re my favorite food. Do you like biscuits? We should get some biscuits.”
“Is there a mute button for you?” I ask.
I walk a little faster, trying to put some distance between us. “How about we play a game,” I suggest.
“Games? I love games!”
“Shocker!” I say, sarcastic. “This one is called Count Every Room in the Castle.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. Can we use a Frisbee? I really like Frisbees.” He sits back on his haunches, his tongue wagging. “Once,” he says, “I ate a shoe.”
“And?”
“I threw up.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, then. So that game . . . ? On the count of three, I want you to go find every room in the castle, and then you come back here and tell me how many there are. Ready? One . . . two . . . go!”
Humphrey doesn’t move.
“What are you waiting for?”
“You didn’t saythree.”
“For God’s sake. Three,” I sigh, and he takes off like a shot up the stone staircase, his toenails scabbering as he rounds the corner.
Immediately I head in the opposite direction and slip into a broom closet. In the dark, I try to figure out how long I’ll have to stay here until Humphrey loses interest in trying to find me. His attention span, from what I can see, is less than a nanosecond—but I can’t be too careful. I swear, that stupid animal has some kind of radar, because every time I think I’ve escaped, he turns up out of thin air, wagging his tail.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a shelf of folded sheets and towels. The sheets on the bottom are printed with small purple flowers. Just like the ones that are always on my mother’s bed.
The door to the closet opens, and my heart sinks when I think Humphrey has found me. But it’s only Queen Maureen, who blinks at me, and says, “Oh, hello, dear. Could you pass me that mop?”
I hand it to her, expecting her to ask me why I’m hiding in a broom closet in the middle of the day, but either she doesn’tcare or this is just something people do here. “Have a nice time,” Maureen says. “Let me know if you get hungry. . . .”
“Shhh,” I warn her. “I’m trying to hide from Humphrey.”
“Ahh. I see,” she answers. “Well. Carry on, then.”
Before she can shut the door, however, there’s a crash so loud that it shakes the timbers of the castle. I step out of the closet to find Humphrey sitting in the hallway with his tail between his legs. “Something happened in the kitchen,” he whispers. “And I love you so much.”
It’s easier to come up with battle tactics to defeat Zorg than to distract Humphrey long enough for me to get a moment alone. “Humphrey,” I say, waving a toy the fairies made out of sticks, acorns, and straw. “Fetch!”
I throw it as hard as I can, practically into the margins.
