James Bow

The Unwritten Books 3-Book Bundle


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wide, Peter nodded.

      “Fear not,” said Puck.

      Peter and Rosemary scampered back.

      Puck tapped his foot. “Do you doubt your very own eyes? Shall I prove that I am Robin Goodfellow? Observe my powers, as I transform into a goat!”

      And, before their eyes, he changed into a large goat, at least as tall as Puck had been, with green eyes and great curling horns.

      Peter and Rosemary clutched at each other and screamed.

      The goat rolled its eyes. “Oh, Lord, what fools these mortals be!” He transformed back. “I say again, fear not, for I mean you no harm! Here, let me help you up.”

      He grabbed them by their wrists, hauled them to their feet, and brushed the snow off them. Peter and Rosemary edged closer together.

      “Who is he?” asked Peter. “Where did he come from?”

      “He followed me home.”

      “And you’re going to ask your parents if you can keep him?”

      Rosemary shoved Peter into the snow bank.

      The creature pulled Peter back onto his feet again and shook his hand. “You must be young Peter McAllister, who saved Rosemary at the library,” he said. “It is an honour to meet one so valiant. Puck at your service, sir.”

      Peter’s brow furrowed. “Like from A Midsummer Night’s Dream? That Puck?”

      Puck beamed.

      “Why are you here?”

      “To be Rosemary’s guide in her great quest to find her brother, Theo.”

      Rosemary pushed forward. “You know what’s wrong with Theo?”

      “He is a prisoner within his mind,” said Puck. “You must journey inside to save his hind.”

      “I must what?”

      “Come with me to the library,” said Puck. “Your quest starts there.”

      “And if I don’t?” demanded Rosemary.

      For the first time, Puck stopped smiling. “If you do not, Sage Rosemary, brother Theo will not come back. The hauntings will get worse and worse, alack.” He raised a hand as Peter started to speak. “I know your thoughts, young fellow, but be assured that I have naught to do with this. I have no quarrel with Sage Rosemary. I only wish to see her free.”

      Rosemary and Peter looked at each other. They looked back at Puck. They started to back away.

      Puck raised his hands apologetically. “I understand your doubts, my good children. Let me show you that I speak the truth. Go home and go to Theo’s room and read the book he’s reading. Then you shall understand what ails him.” He stepped aside and extended a hand towards the road. They had a clear path.

      Rosemary and Peter looked at each other again. Then, giving Puck a wide berth, they ran to the road and back to Rosemary’s house.

      The house was still asleep. Shamus slunk up the stairs behind them, his toenails clicking. Rosemary led the way to Theo’s room.

      She pushed open the door. Theo was sitting up in bed, staring into his book.

      “Hello, Rosie,” he said. He looked up and smiled at her.

      He did not look at Peter. His eyes trailed down to his book, and then up again sharply. “Who’s your friend?”

      “You’ve met Peter,” said Rosemary, shutting the door behind her.

      “Really?” said Theo.

      “Yes, at the library. And he was over for dinner the day before.”

      “You brought a boy home for dinner? Good for you.” He turned back to his book.

      Shamus whimpered. Rosemary patted him. She and Peter crept forward and leaned across the bed to peer at the cover of Theo’s book. It was just a normal paperback, with a painted image of a figure in smoke emerging from an open book. But there was no title on the spine.

      “It’s not a book,” she said. “It’s a journal; a blank journal!”

      Peter peered over Theo’s shoulder. “Something’s been typed in it.” Theo turned the page. The new page started blank, but text appeared in the top left corner and streamed down the paper. “Something’s being typed into it right now!”

      “What?” Rosemary reached for Theo’s book.

      Theo snapped out of his trance. He pulled the book to his chest. “Rosemary, no!”

      She gripped the book by its spine. “Theo, let me see.”

      Theo shook his head. He wrenched the book back. With a tremendous yank, Rosemary pulled the book out of Theo’s grasp.

      “No!” Theo’s voice choked off.

      Rosemary looked at the pages and saw a line saying, “Rosemary looked at the pages and saw a line saying, ‘Rosemary looked at the pages and saw a line saying, ‘Rosemary looked at the pages and saw a line saying, ‘Rosemary looked at the pages and saw —’”

      Peter tore the book from her hands.

      Rosemary staggered back and covered her eyes.

      There was a tapping at the window. Puck’s face was centred upside down in the frame, hanging by his feet from the roof. He waved.

      Peter opened the window, but Puck did not come in. Instead, he said, “Do you believe me, Rosemary?”

      “What the — what happened?” Rosemary gasped, wincing and rubbing her temples.

      “I don’t know,” said Peter. He picked up the book by one corner as though it were something toxic. “You just stared into the pages, and you ... froze. You just stood there. I couldn’t reach you.”

      “How long?” asked Rosemary.

      “Long enough!” Peter thought a moment. “A minute. You didn’t even blink.”

      Rosemary screwed her eyes tighter. No wonder they hurt.

      Peter opened the book.

      “Peter, be careful!”

      “No, it’s okay, I was just reading it. Maybe it doesn’t affect me.” He flipped to the first blank page. The text was still scrolling down. He frowned.

      “It’s listing what I’ve said — what I’m saying right now,” he said. He flipped back a few pages. “And here we are talking to Puck in the snow.” He grimaced. “Here I am screaming. It’s all written from your point of view.” He snapped the book closed just as Rosemary was creeping up to peer over his shoulder. “When you looked at the pages as they were being written, you started a loop.”

      “Theo has been reading the world from your eyes, Rosemary,” said Puck through the window. “Look at your brother now.”

      Rosemary looked up and then darted forward. “Theo?” She shook her brother by the shoulder. He stared blankly ahead. “Theo!”

      “Give him the book,” said Puck. “It is his only link to us.”

      Rosemary pressed the book into Theo’s hands. She felt his fingers tighten against the covers. His eyes lowered, and he began to read.

      Rosemary held his hands a moment before letting go. “I’m responsible for this?”

      “No,” said Peter, frowning at Theo. “How could you be?”

      Puck shook his head. “You are not the fault, but you are the cause. Because they could not get at you, they stole away your kin.”

      “What are you talking about?” Peter rounded on the window. “What do you mean, steal Theo? He’s