The Accidental Keyhand by Jen Swann Downey Read Free Book Online

Dorrie.
    Marcus helped himself to a piece of hard candy from a glass bowl sitting on the desk. “Sure, why not. ‘How do we get out of here?’ is a question.”
    Dorrie reached for the strange phone.
    Marcus caught her arm. “You do know we’ve been down here way longer than ten minutes, right?”
    The realization that she’d lost to Tiffany without even getting the chance to try and beat her almost brought Dorrie to her knees. She’d failed in the most frustrating way. She covered her face with her hands. “Poor Mr. Kornberger.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Marcus, pulling tiny drawers in and out of a heavy cabinet that stood beside the desk. “He probably won’t even notice that you’re wearing it.” He ran his finger over the cards that filled one of the drawers. “What is this thing?”
    Dorrie wiped her nose, which had gone all damp and drippy, and walked slowly toward the nearest bookshelf. No longer in a tearing rush to return to the park, she gave in to her desire to really take in the grand room. She ran her fingers over the soft spines of the nearest books.
    â€œOld penny, dirty dog, coffee, mud,” Dorrie murmured, giving the colors of the leather bindings names. Nearby stood a stepladder, a sprinkling of orange peels littering the floor around its feet. Dorrie lifted a book from where it sat facedown on the top step, propped her sword up beside the ladder, and sat down on the stepladder. The book’s muted green cover felt thick and soft. Gilt letters glowed upon it. With a small cry, Dorrie let the book tumble to the ground.
    â€œWhat?” said Marcus from where he stood spinning a globe.
    â€œThe letters on that book. They moved! They…they…squirmed.”
    Marcus hurried to her and retrieved the book from the ground. “What are you—” He broke off sharply, almost dropping the book again himself. “Whoa.”
    â€œSee!” With a sharp intake of breath, Dorrie watched the figures that made up the title writhe and finally leap into focus as letters she recognized. Index to 14th Century Angry Letters Left on Tables by Girls Planning to Run Away from Home . With trembling hands, she flipped open the volume.
    â€œSo many,” murmured Dorrie. Her eyes ran down the list of entries to the last one on a page that smelled strongly of oranges. After more twisting of symbols, it read: “Mohamad, Saffiyah. Baza, Kingdom of Granada, March 11, 1350. ‘To My Parents Who Just Don’t Understand.’”
    â€œThis place is weird,” said Marcus emphatically and with great pleasure. Dorrie and Marcus exchanged a look of tense excitement, their eyes alight.
    Dorrie carefully closed the book and pushed it into the gap between Index to 14th Century Novels, Poems, and Other Fictions and Index to 14th Century Treatises on Physics . She let her eyes dart back and forth across the bookshelves, her heart beginning to pound, as over and over again, squiggles became words before her eyes.
    She heard a jingle and spun around to see Marcus swinging open a wrought-iron door set in something that looked like an enormous, ornate version of Moe’s cage. A large key dangled in the door’s lock.
    Marcus stuck his head inside. “Come look at this.”
    The back of Dorrie’s neck began to prickle. “Marcus, I don’t think we’re supposed to go in there.” She crept to his side.
    Inside the cage stood a long, battered table upon which lay thick, red books chained to it at intervals. Dorrie and Marcus edged farther into the room and peered at the closest book, which looked worn, its title faded. Dorrie squinted at it, not shocked this time to see the letters wiggle and rearrange themselves until they stood out as clearly as anything she’d ever read. The History of Histories .
    In fact, all the books on the table bore the title The History of Histories . As Marcus reached