“And how does that make you feel?” the man asks.
She leans closer to me. “Oliver,” Delilah whispers.“Speak!”
I can feel her breath ruffling my hair. She seems to want me to speak, but then again, maybe this is a trick. And besides, even if I yell at the top of my lungs, Delilah is the only person who’s ever heard me loud and clear. Better to be safe than sorry, to stay the course so that Delilah doesn’t come off as completely mad.
I carefully remain frozen on the page.
“Fine, then. Let’s trythisscene,” Delilah says, and she flips through the book. I find myself tumbling sideways, smacking into several trees, the lettery,and Socks’s considerable rear end before landing in Seraphima’s embrace on the final page. Her lips are locked against mine, and herbody is pressed along the length of me. The other characters stand in a semicircle around us. I roll my eyes upward, only to see those famous last words:THE END.
“Hmm. Let’s look at that again,” Delilah says, her voice sugary sweet, as she flips backward a few pages. This time I tumble across the slick deck of the pirate ship, splash into the frigid ocean, and get my tunic caught on thecof the wordcaptainbefore finding myself facing an angry dragon.
Pre-orthodontia.
Pyro barely has time to blow a stream of fire at me before Delilah flips back to the last page, slamming me once again into Seraphima’s sloppy kiss.
She is totally doing this on purpose. Well, two can play this game. I tighten my arms around Seraphima and kiss her like… like… well, like she’s Delilah.
Seraphima melts against me, her eyes widening.
Twice more Delilah jumps between the scene with Pyro and the last page of the book. By the time Seraphima leans in for a fourth kiss, I can’t even pretend it’s fun anymore. She’s mauling me, and from behind, I can hear the slightest whimper escape from Frump.
That’s it. I am ready to say anything Delilah wants me to.
“I give up,” I cry out, and immediately, Delilah turns to the strange man.
“Did you hear that?” she says, and she lets the bookfall open, mercifully to the page with Pyro instead of the one with Seraphima.
“You heard something?” the man asks.
“Didn’t you?” Delilah says.
Pyro is snorting small puffs of smoke.
It is the strangest feeling, to have words drawn out of your throat like water from a well, as if you have no control over stopping it from happening. I know these same words will float across the minds of Delilah and this man as they read the story. “Wait!” I cry, my mouth twisting into a conversation I’ve had a hundred times. “I didn’t come here to fight you. I’m here to help!”
The dragon’s scales shimmer in the strong sunlight. He pulls himself upright, to a full muscular height of twelve feet, and his teeth gnash as he takes a step forward. He belches, and sparks shoot from his nostrils.
I cannot take my eyes off Pyro’s mouth, the smoke seeping through his lips. One more line and he is going to shoot a fireball that sets a tree beside me into flames.
Suddenly I realize: this is my chance.
Pyro’s huge jaws open, and a blazing streak curls off the run of his tongue. I grab the fairy-tale book I’ve stolen from Rapscullio, hold it up to cover my face, and leap forward, setting myself on fire.
The last thing I remember is hearing Delilah scream.
