Prologue

Ten-year-old Oliver ran his finger along the dusty books, their binding hardened from neglect and age. Tha, The… Thi… Thimmer! He wedged a finger into the cover and pried it from the shelf.

"The Theory of Magic, by Martha Thimmer," read the book in clear silver letters. Delighted to have found the book, Oliver flipped it open, the binding quietly cracking in protest. He skimmed through the pages, engulfing himself in the smell of an old, untouched book that many ranked among the most wonderful smells of the world, but one that Oliver had no taste for. It made him feel like sneezing.

Wait—where was it? Oliver flipped through the pages again, but noticed no irregularity. Where was it? Where were his notes? He'd left them right there… how could they just disappear? Maybe they were in another book?

No, it has to be in this book, he assured himself.

He'd had his notes yesterday, and the only book he'd read today was The Theory of Magic. But they couldn't have just disappeared. Who would have read this book? He glanced down at the yellowing, typeset pages. Nobody had read this book for all the years it had been sitting on the public library shelves, save for himself, so why would anyone read it now? He flipped through the pages again, frustration building.

Where did they go?

He flipped through the pages again and again, incredulous. But they weren't there. They were just gone. He had to face it. Every scrawled note he'd taken during hours of research were gone, there was no other explanation. Tears built up in his eyes, the realization weighing heavily in his chest.

How could this happen to me?

Copyright © 2009 Elise Penn