Ned Vizzini - Clash of the Worlds

Cordelia exchanged a glance with Eleanor. They never thought they would have to go back there. The other two times, they had all barely escaped with their lives. And even the seemingly good things that happened in the book world only brought them more misery in their real lives. Going back was actually the last thing in the world either of them wanted to do – aside from maybe planting a kiss on the Storm King’s withered old mug.

But they both knew they had no choice now. And so they slowly nodded, Eleanor fighting tears at the reality of having to go back. Cordelia clenched her jaw and told herself that she would do anything, anything to save Brendan and Fat Jagger and the rest of her family.

The Storm King grinned at them as he recited a spell.

Suddenly the chamber was spinning. It was spinning so fast that Cordelia could no longer make out the skull desk or bone bookshelves. She couldn’t make out the faces of the Storm King or Eleanor, or Brendan’s body crumpled on the desk. She couldn’t see anything but the blurred streaks of blue flames and concrete walls.

Then it all faded away into darkness, and there were books all around her, books spinning with her, closing around her like some sort of coffin. They collided with her body and then stuck, as if coated in superglue.

More books piled on, emerging from the blackness around her. The books seemed to morph themselves into her skin, becoming a part of her.

Cordelia screamed out in pain, but no sounds came out. Sound didn’t exist any more, there were only books and pain and spinning in the dark. It was far worse than her two previous trips into Denver’s book world. It was excruciating. But she could not even scream as she no longer had a mouth.

He had tricked them! Cordelia was sure of it. They had just willingly followed the Storm King to their own deaths.

Just as this horrible realisation hit her, she was swallowed up completely by the darkness.

The first thing Cordelia became aware of was light – light so bright that it seemed to pour right through her closed eyelids. She covered her face with her hands … and then grinned.

“Check it out, Eleanor!” Cordelia yelled excitedly, finally opening her eyes. “My hand’s healed!”

They were still in the Kristoff House attic. Except the gaping hole in the ceiling was no longer there. Sunlight streamed in through the attic windows. It was quiet except for the chirping songs of several birds outside.

“Deal, we made it,” Eleanor said, rushing over to hug her older sister. Then she stopped short. “Where’s Bren?”

They both spun around and looked across the attic. In the corner, Brendan was still tied up and rolling around trying to free himself.

“Why am I tied up with shoelaces?” he asked, spitting out a few pigeon feathers. “And how did we get back to Kristoff House?”

Cordelia marched up to Brendan and pointed an angry finger in his face.

“First of all, I want an apology,” Cordelia commanded.

“For what?”

“You bit me!”

“Why would I do that?” Brendan asked.

“You became a zombie! Don’t you remember?”

“Actually, no, I don’t,” Brendan said, suddenly fascinated. “But that is so cool! Did my eyes get all white and weird? Did my skin turn green? Was I really scary? Did I growl a lot?”

“Who cares! You wanted to eat us!”

Brendan gagged.

“OK, that’s pretty gross,” he said.

Eleanor rushed over and gave her big brother a hug.

“I’m just happy you’re not green any more,” she said. “It was really disgusting.”

As Eleanor helped Brendan untie his feet, Cordelia explained what had happened after the zombie bite. When she told him about being shot three times in the chest by an attack helicopter, Brendan pumped his fist in the air.

“No way! People at school are going to freak when they hear about this,” Brendan said. “So where are we, anyway? Transylvania? A volcano? What awful book did we end up in this time?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but instead ran to the nearest window to see for himself. Based on past experiences, he was nervous about what he would find. Seconds later, he spun around with a huge smile on his face.

“Guys, come check this out,” Brendan said. “We totally scored. There are no forests teeming with savage warriors, giant insects, battling colossi and bloodthirsty wolves; no Roman colosseums filled with lions and gladiators, nothing scary at all!”

Eleanor and Cordelia shared the same thought as they sprang to their feet and rushed over to the window: it was too good to be true!

But this time was totally different. As Cordelia and Eleanor peered outside, they both saw the same things: an open and vast prairie under a bright blue sky. The flat fields of grass and golden stalks of wild oats and weeds, spotted with patches of yellow and blue and purple wildflowers seemed to stretch out before them for ever. They’d never seen such a vast stretch of flat, grassy prairie before.

“Crazy, right?” Brendan said behind them. “I’m starting to wonder if Denver ever wrote a knockoff version of the Little House on the Prairie or something.”

Cordelia tore herself away from the window.

“Denver never wrote about anything remotely pleasant,” Cordelia said. “We’d better go downstairs and see what nasty things are lurking behind that beautiful landscape.”

“So, you’d better tell me what happened after I turned into a zombie,” Brendan said, leading the way back down the attic stairs. “Why are we back in the book world anyway?”

Cordelia remembered that Brendan had been out of commission during almost their entire ordeal. He didn’t know that the Storm King had come back to life, or about their mission to find the three Worldkeepers, or any of it. So she explained what had transpired while he was a zombie as they continued down towards the foyer of Kristoff House.

“But the Storm King said we could save Fat Jagger?” Brendan asked, as they arrived in the living room. “That by finding these Worldkeepers and bringing them through the Door of Ways … we would be able to undo all of the terrible havoc the book world caused to the real world? And, um, you know, also undo the zombie apocalypse that I accidentally started?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” Cordelia answered, sounding unsure. “Supposedly everything we need to know is in here.”

She held up Denver Kristoff’s Journal of Magic and Technology . Brendan reached out for it, but his sister pulled it back reflexively. She had already sort of assigned herself the role of official researcher and leader of the mission – she was the best at that stuff. That’s the way it normally played out, anyway, even for smaller things like simply ordering pizzas for them all when their parents were out of town. She always took charge, and they never seemed to mind.

Instead of protesting, Brendan sighed. “What makes you think we can trust the Storm King?” he asked warily. “That old sack of donkey poop hasn’t exactly been helpful ever before.”

“I don’t know that we can fully trust him,” Cordelia said. “But we didn’t have much choice. We still don’t, especially now that we’re back here.”

“He said we could save Fat Jagger!” Eleanor chimed in.

“I really don’t think Denver ever wanted the two worlds to coexist,” Cordelia added. “Why would he? It would only result in a lot of destruction, especially for his beloved characters, his creations.”