

TITLE PAGE

BEGINNING

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

Pallas O'Fiddian passed the potato chips over a messy pile of bills on the kitchen table. Her father, Connell O'Fiddian, took a huge bite of grilled cheese.

Pallas tapped the bills. "Dad, you forgot to pay these." Forgot had a polite ring to it.

"Oh, did I? Sorry Pals, I'll get right on it."

"Dad, why can't you invent something that makes us money?"

Connell gripped the chair. "Pallas, don't worry, it's not as bad—" He vanished.

Pallas' mouth fell open, her grilled cheese hung between her hands. "Dad?" she said quietly.

He flashed back. "—as it looks!" Connell put down his grilled cheese, got up and hurried out, back stiff, like he was holding himself together.

Pallas heard his thumping footsteps down the basement stairs.

Sun spilled into the shabby kitchen.

Outside, birds chirped.

Pallas O'Fiddian slowly lowered her grilled cheese. She could have sworn she'd just seen her dad disappear.

Then reappear.

Dash off to the basement.

But that was ridiculous.

Pallas thought of the inventions in the basement. She wasn't sure what her dad's inventions actually did. She and her dad lived in her dead grandfather's old wooden house, on a dwindling inheritance. She hadn't seen her dad much lately...

I'll just check on him. Pallas left her grilled cheese and walked down the hall, heading for the basement.

Pallas reached the basement stairs. Down the stairs was dark. But someone was there. Not her dad. Someone—or something—loomed at the bottom of the stairs. The metal face glared up at her. Eyeless slits stared vacantly.

Pallas jolted back. She wanted to slam the door, but her dad had gone down there. A monster, gleaming, silver headed, tilted its head back to roar through vicious teeth.

Its head tilted all the way up off its neck. A face appeared underneath.

Pallas exhaled. "You scared me."

A girl of about seventeen, confident, pretty; a strong face and sharp grey eyes.

"Hurry up and get down here." The girl said. She turned, helmet under her arm, and walked deeper into the basement. "I've got a job for you."

CHAPTER TWO

Pallas had no idea who the girl could be—her dad's weird friends showed up all the time. Out of nowhere. "Dad? What's going on?" Pallas called as she came down the stairs. She slowed on the last step, her voice echoing in the silence. She gripped the flimsy railing. Where is he?

The basement glowed under a grime-covered bulb in the ceiling. Jumbled inventions sat on long tables like angry, tangled insects. "Dad?" she said, glancing around.

"He's not here." The girl leaned against a worktable. Her helmet gleamed in the clutter on the table behind her.

Pallas' eyes landed on the long, sharp spear the girl held. The girl wore a fake costume. But in the dull glow of the basement the spear tip looked shockingly real.

Pallas walked past the girl like she wasn't there. "Dad! You can come out now!" she called, stepping into the boiler room. Empty.

Pallas came back, looking around. She looked over at the girl who stood watching her.

"Done?" The girl's grey eyes held hers.

Pallas crossed her arms over her chest. The girl couldn't scare her. "Where is he?"

"I've sent him on ahead. To a parallel universe."

Great. One of the crazy ones. Pallas tried to retrace her steps; she'd definitely heard her dad come downstairs. She would have met him in the hallway if he'd come up from the basement.

"I'm the goddess Athena, daughter of Zeus, protector of cities, proud member of the Olympians."

"Good for you," said Pallas looking around stacks of boxes, under a table. She wasn't worried about the girl anymore. She had experience with this sort of thing. In a way, it was the most comforting thing about the situation. Like her dad's friend Govind after he'd been in the woods for three days on a vision quest. He came back saying weird things, needing water, and had to be forced to lie down.

Then she remembered. The kitchen. Her dad there one minute. Gone the next. Disappear reappear. Pallas straightened. She felt her limbs grow still. She turned and stared at the girl.

The girl, eyes hard. Tall, imposing, the older girl had dressed like some kind of ancient Greek statue out of a museum. Only the dress was saturated color, like the sun; russet orange, with patterns and embroidery and swaths of dark purple. And she had a shawl, a lifelike, intricate, silver blue-green pattern, like scales or chain mail. The shawl was folded over, hiding part of it, and had green tassels. She could have been some kind of reenactor. A really good one. Dressed for a convention or something.

The girl looked sporty. Intimidating. Like someone's older sister. Someone you wanted desperately to hang out with because she was popular, smart and cool, and really good at volleyball or softball.

Athena's hand slid down the spear, idling it. Like a soldier at ease, toying with his gun. "Pallas, I am the patron goddess of a number of cities. As such, I look after them. Some I send heroes, others require..." She picked up something big and dark and round leaning against the table. It looked plain. Thick, clunky. It was made of a dark reddish wood. "You'll need the world jumper." She held it up, admiring it. "The design was taken from my shield. See that?" She tapped the crude relief carved on the front. "It's my snake, Eric."

Pallas looked. It just looked like a wavy line. A jagged, ugly, wavy line.

"Your father carved that, for the two of you to travel on," Athena said, suddenly looking less like an adult and more like a proud kid. "Some invention, huh?" She smiled, her eyes meeting Pallas' conspiratorially. For a second Pallas thought the girl was going to ask her to grab a wooden sword and play soldiers.

The girl seemed very proud of the shield. But it just looked like a crudely carved piece of wood. Like nothing. Her dad made that? Why? He tinkered with metal and wires. Not wood.

Athena flicked her fingers and a card appeared between them. "Give this to the head librarian at the Peplos Public Library. She'll explain her case."

'Peplos Public Library'. 'Her case', Pallas thought. The card appeared in her hand.

Pallas felt goosebumps on her flesh as she turned the card; it was blank on both sides.

The shield clattered onto the cement floor. Pallas jumped, startled. She bumped the table behind her, her heart thudding.

Athena appeared beside her.

"Have a seat." Athena pulled her down onto the shield, crouching with her, the colorful folds of her dress spread across the dusty floor.

"Hey!" Pallas said, surprised. Athena's grip was vise-like.

"Trust me," she said. She had a strong, beautiful voice. "You don't want to do this standing up. Knees under. Imagine you're on a flying saucer sled, getting ready to sled down a hill in the snow. They speak English, so that should help. Now get ready—" Athena's hand gripped, firm and oddly reassuring. Pallas looked into her grey, serious eyes. Athena smiled. "You don't have to take the case."

The air changed. And with an eerie fright, Pallas got the sneaking feeling this was real.

Athena had sat on the ground, legs crossed under her. "Good luck, Pallas. I'm counting on you to do the right thing. The city is counting on you."

The wooden shield jolted under Pallas' legs and her insides lurched. The universe whipped out from under her like a tablecloth out from under a plate. Darkness smothered her, making her feel like she couldn't breathe. Pallas clamped her hands down on the rim. Hold on was all she could think.

Legs tucked under, head tucked in, the feeling of rapid motion gripped her as the shield arced, the world in motion under her.

Like being in a car taking a speeding, hairpin curve, Pallas had the sensation of being about to fly off as she clung to the shield, though it also seemed like her very motion held her on.

For an instant, she tried to look up and see where she was, but everything was dark, a void whose only feature was the dizzying awareness of intense speed. The shield an oddly stable place while the universe passed by.

Then suddenly light. Whatever force that held her on released. No pressure. A sudden sense of being let go. No amount of gripping could stop it. The world jumper slipped out from under her. It caught on her foot for a second before it flung back behind her like it had been attached to a rubber band, as though it had gone back to Athena like a boomerang. Her eyes adjusted to the blue, and clouds, as she fell through the sky.

Pallas screamed, her heart raced and she felt a strange exhilaration. She was terrified but kept her eyes open. She was falling, down, down.

Faster than any fall she'd had. So fast it lifted her hair straight up.

Pallas tumbled through the sky. The wind raced past her and the unfamiliarity of a new world struck her in the very air. She twisted, and caught sight of unfamiliar buildings below her before the wind twisted her back around. Buildings that looked more like a town than a city. And the hard dark blue gleam of ocean in the distance. In the second she had to look, she saw she was heading for one large building in particular and she twisted around and braced for impact. She was going to die.

She whooshed through the roof, wondering how she did that a split second before she hit the floor. Pallas hit the floor hard. The air knocked out of her lungs. She stayed not moving for a second. Breathing fast. Surprised to be alive. Letting her eyes adjust to the dim indoor light.

Whoa. Pallas tried to remember the last normal thing she'd done before everything went crazy. Making grilled cheese. She knew that had been real because the half eaten grilled cheese sat in her stomach like a rock.

Pallas tried to move some toes, fingers. Nothing's broken. She felt like she'd just been on the biggest roller coaster in the universe.

CHAPTER THREE

Is this real? Pallas sat up and rubbed her neck. Achy but otherwise all right.

She got to her feet and stood in the gloomy room.

"Oh hello!" a girl exclaimed, bright blue eyes looking through round wooden glasses. Round freckly face surrounded by frizzy brown hair. The girl stood behind a podium.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in. Do you need a membership?" the girl asked.

"No, I—" Pallas began.

"Aaaar! Aaaargh—!" A horrible scream erupted. Pallas looked to the big staircase.

The girl gripped the podium.

Thudding, shouting. Feet stomping above their heads.

Feet appeared on the stairs. Black pointy shoes, black stockings, black skirt hem swishing against ankles. A terrified older woman in a dark dress buttoned to her chin, her hair pulled tight off her sharp face, raced down, mouth pinched tight, eyes blazing.

On the stairs behind her, fast on her heels, bare feet, hairy legs, army green cargo shorts; a wide-eyed wildman, begging apologies.

"Dad!" Pallas cried.

"Ms. Sternly!" cried the girl.

CHAPTER FOUR

At least her dad was in the dream.

Ms. Sternly, all in black, hurried over. She shot the frizzy haired girl a look. "This man," Ms. Sternly jabbed a finger at Connell, "came in a window to play one of those pranks!" She spun on Connell, wild with determination. "How did you know that room was there! WHO ARE YOU! Speak or suffer!!!" Ms. Sternly reached, grabbed a club from under the podium, and headed toward him.

"Wait!" Pallas threw her hands up. "He's with me—" She stepped between them. Ms. Sternly artfully dodged around her and swung.

"Yikes! Hey that hurt!" Connell cried, blocking his head with his arms. He backed into the stairs and stumbled.

"Wanted to see what goes on up there, did you?" Ms. Sternly snapped. "A private area of the library? OUR HOME?!?"

What should she do? Pallas thought of the card. But it was blank. What else could she do—she reached into her back pocket. "Here! Look!" She waved the card at Ms. Sternly. "I'm supposed to give this to the head librarian!"

Ms. Sternly stopped and turned. "Head librarian?" She paused and looked to the girl.

Pallas looked at the girl.

In the gloomy room, the short kid stood alone. Striped shirt and homespun baggy pants, short and wide and kind of desperate somehow. The kid stood by the stairs, close to the wall. For the first time Pallas noticed the huge, jagged, gaping hole in the wall behind her.

The girl's chest puffed. She held out her hand. "I'm the head librarian, I'll take it."

Pallas balked. The girl wasn't the head of anything. "No you're not."

"I am so!" The girl was going pink.

"She's the head librarian," said Ms. Sternly, club against her shoulder.

"See?" the girl said, with as much smugness as she could muster. "Now what do you have? Let me see." She put her hand out.

Kid librarian. Whatever. "Fine." Pallas held out the card. The girl snatched it.

Pallas frowned. She crossed her arms. "It's blank," she said defensively. "But I was told to give it to you."

"Blank?" The girl looked down at the card, confused.

She stared at it a long time, her eyes devouring it.

She looked up and stared at Pallas with a peculiar expression. Eyes bright behind wooden glasses. Wooden glasses?

She screamed.

She began jumping up and down. "Oh Zeus! Oh Zeus!" She jumped, excited, her hands in fists, frizzy hair bouncing.

Pallas wouldn't have believed someone would do that in public.

The girl stopped abruptly, feet thudding down. "THE Athena. She sent you?"

How did she know? "The one with the helmet and spear and long dress," Pallas said, trying to sound normal. "Yeah, that one."

The girl's fists flew above her head, triumphant. "Finally! This is incredible." She turned to Ms. Sternly, her eyes glassy with shock and pride. She was red as a beet now. "Do you know who this is?" she pointed at Pallas. "Do you?" She flashed the card at Ms. Sternly. She breathed hard in triumph.

The girl put her arm around Pallas and drew her away, speaking lower, privately. "I'm Libby Biblos, you probably know, I asked you to come a week ago, but I didn't know if you'd come or not. I know you only take particular cases, important cases, meaningful cases. Oh Zeus!" she exclaimed uncontrollably. Her fists clenched, she turned as if needing a private moment. She turned back, looking like it hadn't helped. "This is perfect. Perfect! Athena's Detective, come to fix my monst—GHOST problem!"

"Ghost problem?" Pallas said, startled.

Libby grabbed Pallas' hand, giving her a start. She trapped it in a squeezing handshake. "I know you can fix it!"

Pallas had never had anyone look at her like that. Like she was the greatest thing ever.

"Libby, what are you talking about?" said Ms. Sternly behind them.

Libby hesitated, then, pushing her glasses up, she hurried over and pushed the card in front of the woman's sharp nose. "Ms. Sternly, look! Look! It's Athena's Detective. She's come to help us with our—GHOST problem."

Ms. Sternly stopped. "Athena's Detective?" She snatched the card and lowered the club. Suddenly she looked efficient, bookish. Her mouth in a prim line, brows raised, if a little out of breath.

Libby pushed her glasses up. "Remember I told you about writing to Athena for help?"

Ms. Sternly flipped the card, front and back. "Yes dear, I do, but I didn't think she'd answer. This is her card?"

"Sure is," said Libby, a puffed up owl.

Ms. Sternly threw the card aside, raised her club high and made to have at Pallas' dad again.

"Ms. Sternly!"

"Stop!" Pallas cried.

Ms. Sternly turned her iron glare on Pallas. "Who are you? Athena's Detective. That was nothing but a blank card!"

"What?" The girl stopped and went over, picked up the card discarded on the floor. She grinned, excited. "Very funny very funny," she tapped the card with self-assurance. "Says it right here. Athena's Detective! For the case no one else can take!"

Athena's Detective?

"Libby, I don't think—" Ms. Sternly began.

Libby jabbed her thumb into her chest. "And I'M head librarian, not you. I say she IS Athena's Detective, and she's here to help us!" Libby gestured to Pallas' dad. "He wandered upstairs and got lost. He must have found a secret room. He could have found it by leaning on a wall. It's happened—'course I've never seen it. I'd like to," Libby finished, a little anti-climactically.

Ms. Sternly looked like she didn't believe it. But she put the club under the podium. "You're in charge, Libby, do as you wish. A couple of odd vagrants with an unlikely story and no proof. If it were up to me I'd throw them out. Now if you'll excuse me I have a pie to check on. Libby, you finish making the soup because I did it yesterday." She walked briskly out.

Libby turned around and smiled, embarrassed. She handed the card back to Pallas. "I'm so glad you're here."

There wasn't any glass in the girl's glasses.
CHAPTER FIVE

"Oh no, we don't have a ghost problem," Libby was saying, thumping up the old stairs. She held a small wooden oil lamp that glowed feebly against the dark wood.

The place is sure creepy enough to have a ghost, Pallas thought. And huge.

Pallas and her dad climbed behind Libby on the wide stairs.

The stairs narrowed and they kept climbing.

Libby continued, beginning to breathe hard. "I had to say we had ghosts to keep in practice. If the city knows about our real problem, they'll blow up the library."

"Oh," said Pallas. Maybe blow up meant something different here.

Libby gripped the banister, thumping up the stairs. "See, we really have a monster problem—hey, where did you say you're from?"

Connell's mouth popped open. "We're from a little planet called—"

"Out of town," Pallas said quickly. Monsters?

Libby turned back to look at them, agog. "Really? Where—Look at that!" she exclaimed. At the top of the stairs, halfway down the hall, a narrow door stood open.

"That's where I came out," said Connell cheerfully.

"I've never seen it before," Libby breathed. On closer inspection the door didn't have a knob on the outside and looked like a panel in the wall.

Pallas, Connell and Libby stepped inside.

"I didn't know this was here," said Libby, excited. "There's always more to learn at the library." She held up her small lamp, moving it to bring out the dim shapes. Then she found all the niches in the wall, distributed out oil from the lamp and lit each. When she was finished, little flames glowed on small wicks along the walls.

Pallas looked around. The small, dusty room was a bit like a prison cell. There was a bed, a desk, and a closet. No windows.

Pallas' dad ran his hand down a wall panel, knocked, like another secret door would pop open. "That's fascinating," he said. "What a wonderful place. I'll definitely take this room, if you don't mind."

We're staying?

"Oh sure," Libby said with a smug wave. "The library has a lot of secret rooms, secret compartments. They were built long before I was born. Most of them are forgotten or known only to...well, she's dead." Libby paused, then smiled brightly. "You're welcome to stay," she said cheerfully.

Where else did they have to go?

After settling her dad in, Pallas and Libby went back down the hallway, to the room where Pallas would be staying. "It's right across the hall from mine," Libby said, pushing up her glasses, excited.

Pallas' room was decidedly not a secret. It was bigger than her dad's and had windows. But it was still dusty. It had an oversized old bed and a normal door. But like all the rooms she'd seen, there were no electric lamps or light bulb fixtures, no electronics, no electrical outlets that she could see. Just those niches in the walls. What kind of city is this?

Pallas went to the window. It looked out the front of the library onto a street covered with dry grass or straw and lined with trees, with quaint one and two story houses pressed together and window boxes with flowers, and little picket fences—she even saw a chicken strut across a yard.

The people coming and going dressed the same way Libby did, normal, but different, like you'd have to look twice. Like the fabric was heavier, somehow. And nearly everything was made of that same dark reddish wood.

It looked like a wooden version of a city. Charming. It kinda looked like a nice place. Pallas' gaze drifted to the trees. The whole street was lined with odd trees, all with smooth dark trunks like they'd been polished, and pointed bright green leaves.

What are those? She squinted at the trees. Hiding among the leaves were the strangest birds she'd ever laid eyes on.

Bright red, of all different sizes, the birds sat stone still. The weirdest part had to be their eyes. Huge, glowing red balls of molten fire. The birds cluttered up the trees like pigeons. And amidst them, glowing red like their eyes, was cherry-like fruit hanging in bunches.

Pallas stared down at the city street. Her hands were steady, but her heart beat fast and her throat was dry. She felt unreal. But the world felt real. Not at all like a dream.

Could this be real?

Libby began shaking out the bedding, coughing a little. "So you'll help with my monsters?"

"Huh? Oh sure," Pallas said.

"Because you didn't seem to know about my case. I mean, you're Athena's Detective and all, I'm sure of that." Libby paused.

"Uh-huh," Pallas said, half listening. Down in the street, a group of kids rode by on bikes. They were hurling stuff at the library. Maybe eggs. She could hear them laughing as they raced off.

One of the strange birds flew on heavy, awkward wings up to a higher branch and landed again. It stared with unblinking eyes.

The bed pounding stopped. There was silence behind her. "You're not gonna leave, are you? 'Cause it gets kinda scary around here."

CHAPTER SIX

Pallas peered out her bedroom window. Night had come. Curtains drawn at distant windows, the red orbs that Libby called firefruit glowed among the trees, decorating the street like an eerie holiday.

Sometimes, the red orbs moved. Or snuffed out for a second and came back. Pallas figured those were eyes, blinking. The trees rustled in the cool night breeze.

Pallas wore one of Libby's nightgowns. A long, heavy frock with a frilly neck. The nightgown hung loose at her neck but only reached her knee, making her feel like she was in a tent.

Libby wore a similar nightgown but it fit her, coming down to her calf, and tighter around the neck. She had Pallas' pillow by both ends and fluffed it vigorously. For the third time that night. "So yeah, like I said, I'm sure you wouldn't be scared of the dangerous monsters, or stuff like that," Libby said, fluffing.

Pallas turned and leaned against the windowsill. "So you've seen them, these monsters?"

Libby stopped fluffing the pillow. "No." She sat on the bed, the pillow on her lap. "You know, you can stay for as long as you want." Libby looked down, picked at the pillow, pulling out a pink feather. "I'm just glad you're here."

Pallas didn't say anything. She had no idea why she was here. Or if she was even awake. "So what do monsters look like?"

Libby shrugged.

"Are they big or small? Green or blue or pink?"

"I don't know."

"Do they have a name other than monsters? Monsters is pretty vague."

"I don't know!"

"Have you seen them?"

"I've just heard them."

"Ms. Sternly hasn't seen them either?" Pallas paused. "How do you know the monsters are real?"

Libby looked up, surprised. "You saw the big hole they made in the wall."

"Yeah but, this place is pretty old, maybe." Pallas rubbed her face, tired. "I mean, maybe the wall fell down and that's what you heard," she thought of the kids throwing eggs. Ms. Sternly saying people had snuck upstairs before, "mice or trespassers or something—"

Libby put the pillow down and stood. "You don't have to see them to know they're there. And you don't have to help me get rid of them if you don't want, so you don't have to pretend you don't believe me just 'cause you're scared." She raised her arms, in a fed up way, and dropped them. "The whole world has monsters! Duh!" She turned and stomped out.

"Libby, wait, I didn't mean..."

"You'll see!" Libby called from her room across the hall.

Pallas didn't know this world, or what was in it. After what she'd experienced today she could believe in almost anything. But she flat out had a hard time believing in anything some spooked kid called monsters. It's not like saying you've got raccoons.

Pallas had once lived in an abandoned house. A big old condemned place, up near Buffalo, with her dad and a couple freegans—those were people who didn't believe in paying for anything. Connell had thought it was a great idea until a big chunk of the floor fell in for no reason. Didn't need monsters for that.

What made a kid scared and lonely didn't have to be monsters.

Pallas had felt angry up in Buffalo, eating food out of garbage cans and rewiring old computers. But Libby didn't have anger.

Libby must have been ashamed that the library was run down so she made up the idea of monsters to feel better.

CHAPTER SEVEN

That night, in her big, dusty bedroom upstairs in the library, Pallas awoke with a start. The room sat silent. The oil, burned low, left a small, weak flame flickering to survive. Dark, unfamiliar shapes loomed. Pallas' heart raced. Had a noise awoken her? She didn't think so. A ghost? This is stupid. There's nothing there, she told herself, feeling like an idiot. Pallas pulled the sheet up around her neck. Her skin prickled with fear. The fear made her want to listen, hard, and if she strained she heard distant crunching and muttering, crunching and muttering like someone complaining while they ate a human skull. Then a sudden noise, deep, reverberating...

THUD.

Pallas jumped. It sounded pretty far away, hadn't it?

It sounded again. Deep, a large hand—or paw—dropping a large object, or maybe the sound of a footstep. THUD.

That one sounded closer! It rattled to the bones. Pallas gripped the sheets harder. It's just something on the street outside...

THUNK!

Pallas heard rustling just outside her door. She thought to jump up, get a weapon or better yet, hide, where's Dad? she thought, suddenly afraid he'd go out to check on the commotion when, in the dark glow of the firefruit shining in from her window she saw the shadow of the doorknob turn. The door flew open with a thundering crash.

Pallas screamed.

Libby rushed in. "Do you hear them?" Libby climbed under the sheet. "Can you feel it?" she said, her head under the covers.

Mouth dry, Pallas thought her voice would come out in a squeak, but it was normal. "Feel what?" She clenched the blankets and stuck her head out.

"The fear!" Libby whispered, emerging from under the sheet. "It's always like this. The fear is alive. It's coming for us!"

"That doesn't make sense—"

THUNK-A-BOOM!

They screamed and dove under the covers.

"You aren't crazy," Pallas whispered under the sheet. Then realized how it sounded.

Libby's eyes were wide beside her. "They're not mice. Like I said, they're monsters and the cops will blow up the library if they find out we've got a monster infestation. You're the only one who can get rid of them!"

Pallas sat up, shoving off the covers. The fear nearly stifled her. Like a pressure. This place isn't safe. I've got to get my dad out of here! She shot a look at Libby, clutching the sheet, trapped. Pallas hesitated, but slid back down under the covers. She heard in the distance, very faintly, the weirdest sound... Snorgle... Snorgle...

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Pallas whispered.

Libby turned and looked at her in the dark.

And looked at her.

"I guess not," said Pallas.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bright sun spilled into Pallas' room. In the bathroom, there were these long old fashioned pumps. It had taken Pallas a while to figure out that you had to pump the handle until your arm ached before water came out. But at least there had been a hot water pump too. Pallas had washed in a ceramic tub and her brown hair was damp against her shoulders. In the bright of day her mind buzzed; it was hard to believe everything that had happened. Especially the noises last night. "I mean, what were the monsters doing down there? Looking for something?"

Libby sat on Pallas' bed, pulling on her tan canvas loafers. "They do all kinds of things down there," she said. Libby explained that the monsters had been showing up for two weeks now. "What I'm afraid of most is that they've decided to move in."

"But if they've moved in, then where are they hiding during the day?" Pallas ran her fingers through her hair and snagged on a knot.

Libby shrugged, sullenly pushing up her wooden glasses.

"So where do they normally live?"

"Baleful Forest. No one's supposed to go in there. It's forbidden."

"Huh." Pallas scratched her pants. She had on a pair of baggy pants that tied with a drawstring and made her looked like she'd be clamming today or ready when the flood came. On top she had on a black and white striped shirt like a sailor or a convict, completing the nautical or prison look. Aside from how nice it felt to wear clean clothes, Pallas wore Libby's stuff to blend in. Only Libby's feet were too small and wide so Pallas wore her own sneakers. Baleful Forest. "And it's forbidden..."

"'Cause of monsters." Libby had on a pair of faded overalls the color of the trees outside, which Pallas had learned they called firetrees. Libby had on what looked like a t-shirt under that. She hugged her legs, her loafers buried in Pallas' sheets. "You know, being Athena's Detective is a pretty good job. It's a lifetime appointment, and you get an office."

"What happened to the last one?" Pallas asked, going to the dresser to brush her wet hair.

"That's Ajax Celeris Longus. He retired. No one knew who'd replace him. Do you think there's a reason Athena picked a girl who wasn't from Peplos?"

"I don't know why she picked a kid at all. I mean, how long have you been head librarian?"

"A month," said Libby, rocking on the bed. "It's a trial period. My dad said that if I could get the library back on its feet in a couple months then I can run it."

"And he doesn't care that you're a kid?" Pallas brushed harder, working out the pesky snag.

"Why should he?"

She put the brush down and turned back to Libby. "Where I come from kids don't have important jobs."

"That's weird," said Libby. "Here, kids work in their chosen profession. As long as it's a job they like."

"What about school?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you have to go?"

"Sure, once a week, nights, like adults."

"Adults go to school?"

"Sure, no one stops learning. That would be weird. What are you going to do about Athena?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to tell her no? She made you her detective and gave you that card..."

"Libby, no one can see anything on that card."

Libby shrugged. "I can see it."

"I know but I can't, and Ms. Sternly couldn't. And I showed my dad this morning. He can't," said Pallas, feeling bad for some reason.

"The last detective worked for over sixty years, solved over a hundred cases. I mean, he didn't make a lot of money, but it's an important job."

"When you first said it, I thought it was a made up job."

"That's silly. Why would she give you something made up? It's a job. Like head librarian." Libby sprawled on the bed. "Head librarian is who I am, it's what I've always wanted to be. It's my job—it's me. Do you already have something like that? Is that why you don't want the job?"

"No."

Libby propped herself up on her elbows. "Really? Nothing you wanted to do all your life, ever since you were little?"

Pallas laughed. "No." She didn't want to do anything—she needed to make money. When she got older she was going to make a lot of money and buy her dad a mansion. That way no one could laugh at his inventions anymore. They'd be behind a wall of credit cards, just like the girls at school. She'd already practiced being like them so she'd fit in when she was rich. Pallas hated the feeling that her dad's weird might have rubbed off on her.

Libby was looking at her funny. Making her uncomfortable. "But Athena picked you," Libby said. "Athena's detectives care about stuff like justice, don't you?"

"Nope."

"Don't you believe in justice?"

"I've never seen it," said Pallas.

Libby sat down on the bed, thinking. "You know, being Athena's Detective is a pretty good job. It's a lifetime appointment, and you get an office." As if Pallas hadn't heard her the first time.

"That's nice," said Pallas.

"Are you going to tell her no? She made you her detective and gave you that card..."

"Okay, fine," Pallas put down the brush and turned.

Libby sprawled on the bed. "In the book Ajax Celeris Longus wrote about his life he said 'Athena's Detective is who I am, it's what I've always wanted to be. It's my job—it's me.' He was preparing to be Athena's Detective when he was a kid. But he was thirty-five when she offered the job." Libby propped herself up on her elbows. "Is it like that with you?"

Pallas laughed. "No."

Libby was looking at her funny.

Justice, Pallas felt herself frown. Justice for me. Pallas thought of the town by the lake they'd camped near once. The girls in that town had everything. They were happy and safe while Pallas sat on the edge of hunger. Or balanced on a pile of bills. Teetering until her and her dad fell off and had to go searching for another place to live. Where was the justice in that? So yeah, she cared about justice. But she wasn't going to wait for someone to hand it to her like Libby, waiting for 'Athena's Detective' to rescue her like she was a helpless kid. She wasn't going to wait for someone to give her justice. She'd make her own, she thought, tying her ugly old cheap sneakers tight, wanting to burn them.

"It's a good job," Libby was saying. "Athena's Detective."

"Yeah, well, it's not for me."

"Then what do you want?"

Power. Because having power makes a person safe. "I dunno."

"I don't care what any of them say. I can see it. Pallas O'Fiddian, Athena's Detective." Then, Libby added quietly, as though to herself, "I bet you could be one of the legends."

Pallas straightened from tying her shoes and put her hands on her hips. Last night Libby had whispered to her about the monsters. The kinds of things Libby woke up to on any given morning was surprising. With last night's banging around downstairs Pallas wondered how much Libby had to clean. "Let's go look at monster damage."

*

Pallas and Libby crept downstairs. The library stood quiet as a tomb. Slobbery, half-eaten veggies, dropped as though in disgust, trailed from the entryway, through the library, down the back stairs to the kitchen with its open storage jars and tipped bins, a wooden ice box with the door ripped off its hinges.

Pallas stared at the mess. They got buckets and brooms and scoops. A library full of monsters! Why me? Pallas thought angrily, helping Libby clean up the mess. She found a fork on the floor in the corner. In another corner black bread that looked like it had been missed from a previous round of clean up. Pallas hurried up, throwing bread, gnawed tubers and stringy roots into a basket for composting. Libby said the library was supposed to open in ten minutes.

The huge hole gaped, splintered and jagged, like a giant cannon ball had hit it. "Do they come in from here?" Pallas asked, peering in.

Libby came over and peered with her. "I don't think so." She pointed into the hole. "See? No tracks. The dust isn't disturbed."

"Yeah," Pallas paused. "It's like they smashed the wall for fun."

Libby frowned to herself. "Maybe." She pushed her glasses up.

Pallas looked in the hole for any sign of something left behind, but there wasn't anything. "Wait a minute." She pulled out something bony, like a big claw. "Look at this."

Libby tossed a tooth-marked, slobbery beet into the basket, wiping her hands on her overalls. She took the weird, sharp bone-like claw and stared at it. "I don't know. I'm not very good at knowing which monster is which."

"How many?"

"I'm not sure." She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the whole, like a farmer his crops. "I don't know which kinds, but those were monsters. Big, encyclopedia, A-class monsters."

Pallas looked at her, surprised. "Encyclopedia? Do you have those?"

"Monster encyclopedias? Not accurate ones. The ones we have are old; full of mythical creatures. You know, drawings of monsters that have the wrong number of eyes and limbs, or the wrong head entirely, maybe extra wings. The kind of books they wrote before explorers went into the forest and sketched the monsters. The more accurate monster encyclopedias—everyone knows those are all newer books."

Wow, this library really is useless, Pallas thought, then felt bad for thinking it. "What about some other library?"

"The new one?" Libby's brow furrowed. "I'm not going there." She went over to the door and began unlocking it.

"Fine. Anywhere else?" Pallas asked, picking up a damp wad of stringy grass off the floor.

"Well, a drakonia might have books..."

"What's a drakonia?" She tossed it into the basket and wiped her hands.

Libby had lifted the big wooden bar from across the door. She turned to Pallas, hand on the door handle. "Drakonia aren't a what they're a who. They have shops with potions and books, magic books and monster books—"

Ms. Sternly, looking crisp this morning in a long grey dress that matched the shadows under her eyes, walked briskly past carrying a heavy pile of books. "These need to be burned," she said, hurrying along.

"Fine," Libby said, in a clipped, irritated tone. She watched her leave, eyes narrowing. After Ms. Sternly had gone, Libby turned to Pallas. "Every day, she's at it. Telling me what to do, when she knows I'm head librarian," she whispered hotly.

"She didn't tell you what to do."

"It's in her tone. 'Oh, I'm Ms. Sternly, I'm so great, look at me, walking in front of you, so busy. I'm doing all the things you should be doing because I've been doing it this way for years....' Like she should be the one telling the staff what to do. It undermines my authority."

"But there's no staff. Isn't it just the two of you?"

"Yeah, but for when I do get one. She wants to make sure I never get used to the feeling of being the head librarian. So I don't enjoy it. You know why?"

Pallas shook her head.

Libby leaned in. "She thinks she should be head librarian."

"Has she said that?" Pallas asked. She thought Ms. Sternly seemed pretty dedicated, although she was about to burn books for some reason.

"Not to my face. But she worked here before my grandma died and left me the place, so she thinks she should be running it, not me."

Ms. Sternly walked through with what looked disturbingly like a Molotov cocktail, a bottle with a rag on fire sticking out of the top. "I'll be outside if you need me," she said.

"I'm sure I won't," said Libby under her breath.

Ms. Sternly didn't react. "Around the back, in the yard," she added. "I won't be able to hear you so you'll have to come and get me when you get into trouble." She vanished around a corner.

Libby's mouth dropped. "When I get into trouble!" she hissed. "When? Did you hear that? She doesn't think I can do anything right! She didn't ask me if she should be burning books. Does she ever ask me what she should do? No. She bosses me around. Look at how she wants me to abandon my post at the checkout desk. I'll bet she thinks someone's coming today."

"Why is she burning books?" Pallas asked.

"To get the dust off them. It doesn't hurt them."

The door flew open.

Kids. Half on bikes, half on foot. They tossed a ball around, and shoved and clutched and wrestled each other, laughing and banging into things as they streamed in.

Libby turned pink. "Oh no." Steeling herself, she took a breath and pushed up her glasses. "Stop throwing that!" She waved her arms and chased after them. "You can't have bikes in here!" she said, and the bikes began circling her. She bit her lower lip and looked like she wanted to push them over if she'd had the guts. They began singing around her:

*

"Old Dementia haunts in white,

through the libr'y day and night,

crying 'cause they caught her lying,

screaming 'cause she can't go flying,

knots and rats all in her hair,

wouldn't touch her on a dare,

screaming, crazy, telling lies,

lies that she can fly!"

*

"—Whoah! Is that it?" A red haired freckled kid broke ranks. He halted his bike at the giant hole. His big-toothed mouth gaped. "Was it really Old Dementia's ghost did that?" he lisped. The other kids biked over and huddled around the hole, murmuring. Pallas stood by the basket of monster-mangled veggies, not saying anything.

"Get away from there!" Libby cried.

A boy with chubby cheeks, pale freckly skin and a red shaggy hairdo, who looked pink and winded from singing, pressed his fat little hand against the battered wood. "Look how this wood breaks off."

The other kids crowded forward to pull chunks loose, making the hole wider. Pulling and giggling.

The kid that looked like a redheaded bunny turned to his friends. "Bet we could tear the whole library down. Let's tear it down!"

"Yeah!" some of them cried.

"No!" Libby exclaimed.

A kid closer to her shot Pallas a look. "Who are you?" His eyes narrowed.

Pallas glared back.

He looked away.

A girl in pigtails who'd been circling on her tasseled bike, put her hands on her head and cowered. "The old library's gonna fall down?"

"Yeah!" said chubby cheeks, laughing.

"Stop it!" Libby tried to push into the crowd, but a kid turned and pushed her back. She fell on her butt, catching herself with her hands. Pallas flinched. "Hey..." Pallas said, "Do that again and I'll—" a random boy biked over and before she could think she'd pushed.

"Hey!" He went sprawling, bike clattering.

Pallas calmly took out the club from under the podium.

She was ready.

Just then the door opened, letting in a beam of light, a hint of a better world in the fresh outdoors, and a beautiful older girl sauntered in. The older girl was clearly a part of that other world, away from the dingy, crumbling library.

Blond hair swishing like a horse's tail, she wore a sunny yellow dress, and looked light and lovely and out of place. Her eyes scanned the room, went past the squabbling in the corner like it was nothing special, and landed on Pallas. She smiled, waving her over. "Hi."

Pallas hesitated, then she shoved a kid as she went over. "Do I know you?" she asked, then remembered Libby yesterday asking Pallas to join up and added, "Are you a member?"

"Of this library?" the girl said, wrinkling up her little nose. "Oh no, but my father is. Actually, I came in looking for a book, but it's pretty new. Tell me, are you new here too?"

"Sure, I'm..." Pallas looked over at Libby. The chubby kid was biking around a table in the next room and Libby was trying to stop him. He kept moving to the other side of the table. "I'm passing through," Pallas said. "I'm new to the city..."

"Oh, I see," the girl smiled knowingly. "You're not part of the library staff." The light, easy material of the girl's dress and the shoes she wore, gold sandals that laced up the calf, looked expensive. The girl pulled her braid around to toy with the ends. "You're here with your dad?"

"How did you...?"

"My father's a very important man." The girl twined her hair around her finger. "He learns things fast in this town. He'd love to hire you, on a permanent basis. He'll pay more than this library." She wrinkled her nose. "Say, why don't you stay with us instead of this dusty old place?"

Pallas glared at her. She could just imagine the mansion a girl like this lived in. "All right," she said slowly.

The pretty girl bounced on her toes, making her hair swish. "That's wonderful! My father would love to have you. We can go shopping, to the theater, all the best restaurants!"

"Sounds great," Pallas said carefully. She leaned forward. "Listen, this place is crazy; run down, but my guess is that your father might like to buy it."

"How did you know?" The girl's eyes widened.

"Wild guess. Listen, what's in this place that he wants, hm? Maybe I can get it for him and afterwards, I can't wait to leave—" Give me the information.

Libby stood off to the side, hair mussed, her hands on her hips, listening with an angry expression.

The girl straightened, a sour, pinched look on her face.

"Oh, Libby, I..." Pallas straightened.

Libby had flushed red and she was breathing hard.

"Where is everyone?" Pallas asked. Like the kids had been friends visiting. She didn't hear them anymore, anyway, which was a good thing.

Libby exhaled hard. "They ran out the back." She pushed her glasses up her nose. "I chased 'em," she said proudly. Pallas would have believed that only if paid. Libby pointed her finger at the girl, and the girl recoiled like Libby had tried to touch her. "Do-you-know-who-that-is?"

Pallas had an idea. "No. We just met, it's no big deal—"

Libby shouted. "That's Dusty. Her father's the man who wants the library. The Developer!"

Pallas shot the blond girl a look. "I'm shocked," she said, not sounding shocked. Rich people were nice to poor people when they wanted something. Never trust a smile. She'd learned that a long time ago.

Dusty smirked, with a shrug. "The brand new library Daddy funded already has ten thousand members. How many members do you have now? Five?" she said meanly.

"Ten!" said Libby proudly. "And we'll get more!"

Dusty ignored her, fishing around in her bag. "My father wanted me to give you this." She pulled out a card. It looked like the card Athena had given her, only this one had lettering on it.

Pallas took it. "What's this?"

"It's my father's exclusive business card. See?" She held up another one. "I have one just like it. You can buy anything you want with it. If you need a hotel room, new clothes, whatever you like. Just hand it to the salesperson. Consider it a little gift to let you know how generous my father is." She paused. "Feel free to use that as much as you want." She walked out, turning at the doorway, her lemony, breezy skirt twirling with her. "Bye!" she called back to both of them.

The door slammed. Silence.

Libby came over and looked down at the card. Pallas frowned at it.

The Developer—making things happen in Peplos. And it had an embossed seal on it.

"You can see that, right?"

Libby nodded, frowning. "With that you could buy anything."

"Anything?" Pallas felt a little thrill. The guy was rich. It was like having his credit card. Was there anything good to buy in Peplos?

Libby turned and walked away.

"Libby wait! We've got to visit the drakonia shop. You don't get it, I didn't mean..."

Libby stopped and turned. "Yes You Did!" She stopped. "Forget it. The whole town hates this library. I thought maybe, because you're Athena's Detective... but you hate this library too!" She poked through her glasses and wiped her eyes. "You're embarrassed to be here, and to wear my clothes, fine! Go somewhere else!"

"Libby listen, she came in here to get me away from the library. My guess is that she knows about the monsters."

"Knows?"

"Her and her father. But they're not calling the cops, right? So there's something she wants in the library. Get it? I was leading her on, trying to find out what it was."

Libby hesitated. "I don't believe you."

Pallas threw her hands up. "Fine. Don't believe me. I wanted to leave. In fact, a part of me really did want to leave, okay? I mean, this is serious. This place is dangerous. It's got monsters!"

Libby looked taken aback. "I know that," she said softly.

"I don't understand it, why is it so important for you to be head librarian? It's just a stupid job!"

Libby looked stunned. "Just a stupid job?"

"Yes! You know what I think? I think you should take her father's offer and run! Let him deal with the monsters and the fact that no one ever comes here anymore. What do you care? With the way he throws around money—he'd pay anything. You'll be rich!"

Libby looked like she'd been punched. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.

"I just don't understand why you want it so much," Pallas said, feeling rotten. But it was the truth. "Give me one good reason why you want to be head librarian."

Libby's face was pink. Finally she shouted. "Because it's all I ever wanted to be!" and ran upstairs.

Pallas almost followed her, but didn't. Let Libby stew. Someone should have told her the obvious truth by now anyway. Pallas had only been here one day and she could see that Libby wasn't qualified to run anything. She was just a kid and this library was a mess. It should probably be condemned, or at the least run by an adult like Ms. Sternly. If Libby thought she could return this place to some former glory she was delusional. The sooner she gave up, the better.

Pallas stared down at the business card. Credit card, really. She imagined booking into the best hotel in town. Order up one of everything. Her and her dad living like kings for the first and maybe last time ever. She heard a thud and a cry of frustration, like Libby had thrown something in an angry fit and it bounced back and hit her.

Resigned, Pallas stuffed the Developer's card in her back pocket, behind the blank card Athena gave her.

CHAPTER NINE

Before Pallas could go upstairs, Libby came downstairs wearing a light but long brown coat that made her look like a little munchkin, and said, in a cold voice, "I'm going to the drakonia."

"Wait. I'm going with you," Pallas called after her.

Pallas hugged herself against the chilly breeze, wishing she'd brought a coat too. It was sunny, but crisp. She walked along with Libby, hurrying to keep up.

The city looked like something out of an old postcard. Donkeys and goats pulled wooden carts in the grassy streets. Cottages squeezed against two and three story wooden apartment buildings. Neighborhood shops had windows packed with pastries. Every building built of the dark-red wood of the library. Firetree wood. The whole thing was crazy, Pallas thought to herself, like a gingerbread town that took itself seriously. Strange place. Flower boxes and picket fences that kept goats and pompous roosters in, strutting across the yards.

A charming, wooden version of a city.

Pallas and Libby walked under the trees, along the grassy sidewalk. She wondered what was happening back home. Had a day passed? An hour? She'd only been a week into ninth grade. At another new school. No friends. Not much hope of any with the way they moved around and it wasn't like she brought kids home... ever.

A sheep brayed, carts creaked, Pallas reached up and tugged a fruit; hard and small like a cherry. "Where's the shop? Down one of these side streets?"

Libby didn't look at her. "No," she said sullenly.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said."

"It's no big deal," Libby replied, sounding angry. Her fists were clenched and she walked in a choppy, angry way, picking up speed.

Pallas picked up too. "I just don't get it, okay? Where I come from kids don't have jobs." Except actors, she thought. "I mean they might have some kinds of jobs, but not important ones where they tell adults what to do. If a kid has a job in my world it's probably illegal, like in a sweatshop."

Libby stopped. "What's a sweatshop? Is that with candy?"

"That's a sweet shop. A sweatshop's where hundreds of kids sit all day in a room and do boring work and barely get paid. Like putting shoes together and stuff. Something like that."

"Huh." Libby huffed. She kept walking. "You sure come from a rotten place," she said with relish. "Do you work in something like that?" Is that why you're such a jerk, she meant, if her tone was any indication.

"No, they're illegal. Most kids don't. And I DON'T come from a rotten place."

"Sounds rotten," Libby mumbled and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She continued up a steep hill, refusing to look at her.

They walked up and down hills, across roads made of a straw-like grass that sprang up, alive in the wake of their sneakers. Everyone went around in work clothes. A few women and girls had dresses on, but most wore jeans and overalls. A few women, men and even kids had on handmade looking suits. None of the women wore girlish hats, only men's styles, brim tipped back, canted at a jaunty angle as they sat confidently, with a leg up, and argued with other suits and workmen in overalls. People in Peplos seemed to take off their hats and smack other people with them to get attention or emphasize a point.

Libby spoke up. "In Peplos kids can have any job they want, as long as it's what they really want to do. You know, a career, and they can apprentice if they want, but if they think they can do the job, well they don't have to apprentice. Instead they have to prove they're up to the job, otherwise their parents can make them go back to school."

"So you picked being a librarian."

Libby nodded. "It's what I've always wanted to do. For as long as I can remember. My mom and dad promised to give me a chance, since it was what my grandma wanted, for the library to be handed down. But I heard my dad tell my mom he wants to sell." She hesitated. "He doesn't say it, but he doesn't believe I can be head librarian. No one does."

Well I do, Pallas wanted to say, but it would sound fake considering she didn't believe it. "If a person works hard, they can usually get most of what they want to do done," she said instead.

Libby beamed at her. "Do you think so?"

No. "Sure." Pallas looked around at the bustling streets and noticed how many kids were out, hustling around. This was a weird city, where kids worked. She shrugged. "Why not. Kids can do anything they put their minds to—"

They arrived at an old fashioned, painted sign on a corner building. Pallas looked up at it. 'Plaza Athenée' the swinging sign proclaimed in bold script.

"A lot of the drakonia have small shops with just a table," Libby was saying. "You tell them what's wrong and they go in back to get stuff. But this part of town has a shop for the drakonia trade and other people, who are interested in some of the practices. So it's a pretty big shop. Over here by the universities." Libby said some people do nothing but go to the universities, spend years and years, practically their whole lives.

They passed bookshops and pottery shops. And little boutiques of clothing that looked like one or two people's special style. Musician and artists' shops. Pallas could see, at the end of the cul-de-sac, a large café that people hung out at. Mostly kids and people in their twenties. "The kids who came in the library, how do they know you? Were you in their school?"

Libby kept walking, the sun glinting off her hair. "Yeah, I only stopped going about a month ago, to run the library, so they still know me." She slowed at a shop with a cluttered window display. Above the window the old sign read 'Athena's Place.' "Here we are."

Pallas looked up at the place. Statues and powders, vials with strange symbols, cluttered the window display. Drakonia. So these are the city's witches. She pulled open the door, and a clanky bell rang.

The place smelled...of powder. Colored, scented powder. The only way to describe it. Powdery puffy incense and lamplight made clutter flicker and dance. An army of statues stored everywhere they could. Walls, shelves and counters brimmed. Everything in red firetree wood, sometimes painted. Replica Athenas sat crammed against owls, snakes, firetrees, temples, what looked like heroes and heroines with swords and shields, tons of stuff.

Hanging high up by the ceiling colorful medusa heads grinned down.

The drakonia, a girl younger than them, sat on the counter. She looked up, full black bangs over exotic eyes, leg swinging, blue eyes following Pallas and Libby as they walked to the back of the store to where the books were.

Another girl, maybe a little older, came through the beaded curtain out the back. She had a little scowl, unlike the blank look of the girl who sat on the countertop.

In the alcove sat a table and two chairs, and in a cabinet under the books were dice and bird feathers and a jar of something moving. Pallas peered down into it. Ants.

"You want something?" The shopkeeper's voice rang out like a bell.

Pallas shot up, startled. She hadn't heard her coming. The girl's bob of blue-black hair and thick headband made her look like a doll. She wore a dress only a grandmother could love. A weird contrast to her dark hair and sharp haircut, it was plain linen, off-white, jumper style, with a lot of embroidered flowers.

Libby had sat in a chair and looked scared, like she'd done something wrong.

"Uh, no... we're just looking," Pallas said.

The Doll's eyes narrowed, big blue suns squinting. "A reading? Dice reading? Send an ant? A spider? Charms? Incense? What do you want? Just tell me."

"We want to look at the books," Libby chirped.

The Doll's mouth thinned. "Well, that's the table for readings and consultations, this ain't no library."

Libby didn't get up. She looked too nervous to move.

Across the store, the girl glanced up from fiddling with an embroidered bracelets display on the wooden counter.

The way the Doll said 'library' gave Pallas the feeling she knew who Libby was.

When Libby tried to get up Pallas put a steadying hand on her shoulder and kept her down. "We're gonna buy stuff." Pallas looked around fast and saw the wooden statues on the cabinet under the bookshelves. She pulled out one. Three girls with an open box, looking kind of upset. "Maybe this. How much is this?"

The Doll crossed her arms over her chest. "Ten drachma."

"Ten drachma!" Libby blurted.

Pallas looked closer at the statue she'd picked. The girls' small wooden hands were claws of terror. Their bodies sharp and angled and scared. Even their eyes were weird. They'd been carved so wide and surprised they looked eerie. Like they were crazy. "Who's it of?"

"Can't you tell? It's the daughters of Cecrops opening the box that held baby Ericthonius. See the eyes? That's good detail. They're going mad from the sight of him."

"Oh," Pallas said softly.

"If you're looking for a good statue of Eric," the Doll pulled out another statue from the shelf, "here's a great one."

Pallas recoiled. "Yeah," she said, her voice halting. From head to waist the statue was of an attractive man. From waist to tip of his scaly tail, the bottom half was all snake.

The Doll put it down on the shelf with the books. "Or how about this." The Doll grabbed another, getting into it. "These are Eric's daughters before he killed them. Great huh?" She held it eye level, so Pallas could see the mournful faces. Three girls huddled together, arms around each other for support. Faces defiant, or resigned. "Uh, yeah, really something..."

"I could give you a deal for all three?" the Doll chimed, suddenly extra friendly. She put them down on the shelf, adjusting them as if emphasizing what a nice set they would make. "Huh? Whattaya say?" She grinned, eyes bright. Going in for the kill. "An Ericthonius special."

Libby sat half turned in her seat to watch them by the bookshelf. "I've got stuff like that already," she said. "We need a book on monsters."

The girl's eyes snapped over. "Monsters? What for?"

Pallas spoke before Libby could. "For the library. We need a new book on monsters to put in the Peplos Public Library."

"Really?" the Doll said, looking wary. You could just see her thinking A new book in that old place? Then she rolled her eyes. She walked over to the far end of the bookshelf, her stiff linen dress barely moving. She reached up and pulled down a book so giant she grunted and had to grab it with her other hand before it fell on her. She hefted it over and dumped it on the table. "Here, an encyclopedia of monsters," she said sourly.

Libby pulled it toward herself, keeping a numb stare glued on it, probably because she was afraid to look up at the girl's annoyed face. "And we'll be looking at it here," Libby said firmly, still not looking up. "To see if we want to buy it."

"That's right," Pallas agreed.

The Doll scowled, looking bored now. "Sure you will," she grumbled, turning away from a lost cause and walking back up the main aisle of the store. She leaned in and said something to the other girl, who shook her head in disgust.

Trying to ignore the hospitality, Pallas pulled up a chair next to Libby. The book had to be a thousand pages long, each page or two a new monster. How were they going to find theirs?

Pallas tugged the book over so that it was more between them. She kept her voice low. "Okay, we have the claw from the wall, so we can start looking for that," she whispered, so the shopkeepers across the room wouldn't hear. Luckily, the bell on the door clanged and an older woman came in and began asking questions, taking up the two shop girls' attention.

Pallas and Libby flipped through. The pages were big and each page had the drawing of a monster and piles of description around it, and in one corner a little map to show where the monster was from. There were so many of them. "All these are real?" Pallas asked.

"Yeah," Libby said in a breathy whisper. "But most of them don't come into the city."

Pallas felt a spike of hope. "Wait, which ones do?" she whispered back.

Libby shrugged. "No, what I meant was most of them aren't supposed to come into the city. But they're all rumored to come into the city."

"Thousands of monsters, in the city when they're not supposed to? Sounds to me like the city would be overrun with monsters," Pallas said, growing exasperated.

Libby shrugged again. "It's just a rumor."

"Great, okay, so it could be any of these." Pallas thumbed back to the front of the book. "Maybe there are different categories? Like for monsters with claws and stuff?"

Libby shrugged, her eyes big and lost.

"Well, at least we know it's not the water dwellers, right?" Pallas said, trying to be positive, even though she felt desperate too. "Unless you have a swimming pool or river under the library," she mumbled, then stopped. "You don't, do you?"

Libby shook her head. "No, it has to be something that can live out of water."

"Good," Pallas said, looking. She turned giant page after giant page.

There were categories of monsters at the front, but the categories were all long scientific names and so even if they'd meant 'with claws' or 'freakin' loves to take apart libraries,' Pallas and Libby had no way of knowing.

After a while, with Pallas still flipping the pages, trying to land on something that might have long claws or remind her of that weird feeling she had last night, that weird fear... she glanced over at Libby and stopped, mid page flip.

Libby stared into the shop with a vacant expression. She looked worn out from the long morning. Her mouth, down in a numb frown, eyes looked like they were stuck. "It's impossible, isn't it?" Libby said. "The police are going to find out about the monsters and then they're going to blow up the library, aren't they?" She paused. "Even if we do find out which they are," she said quietly, "how are we going to get rid of them? I mean, you're supposed to be Athena's Detective." She turned and looked at Pallas with pleading eyes. "You should know how."

That's not fair, Pallas almost blurted. She was tired too and they hadn't even eaten lunch. Pallas tried not to feel angry. But getting the monsters out of the library wasn't her responsibility. It was Libby's problem; it had only become her problem because Athena had dumped her and her dad in a library in an alternate world which, she couldn't believe, she was getting used to the sound of. Now it felt like Libby kept looking to her like she'd have all the answers, when she didn't have any, she thought, growing more upset. How could she? Libby was from here. Libby should be the one handling her own problems.

Pallas exhaled, anger leaving her as fast as it came. Libby didn't look like she was able to handle anything right now. The kids taunting her this morning, even the shop girl seemed to turn up her nose at her because she was linked to the Peplos Public Library. That had to be hard to live with. To want to be a part of something so badly, that other people ridiculed, despised. And on top of that not getting enough sleep last night. Pallas had had one rotten night. Libby probably hadn't had a good night's sleep for a couple of weeks.

Pallas looked down at the page under her hand, with its upright, crocodile-looking creature with clawed hands and giant fangs. The claws looked too small, but— "Hey, could this be one of them?"

Libby mustered. She seemed to wake her body a little and she leaned forward. "Wow, maybe."

"Look at the teeth. Maybe what we found was a tooth, not a claw." Pallas felt a growing enthusiasm, whether or not it was the right monster. She pointed, "And look here, that big alligator tail. That would be great for smashing into a wall."

Libby bit her lip and stared at the book. "It could be."

Pallas read the description, her eyes flying over the words. A thrill shot up her spine at what she read. "And look at this," she whispered excitedly. "Says here that they use their tail to smash things, whip it at their prey and stuff. And those little hands it has, maybe they could tear an ice box off its hinges."

"Maybe," Libby said, more skeptical.

"You never know." Pallas felt a stab of worry. Maybe it wasn't the right monster. But for a second it felt like finding a little piece of gold in the sand. She snapped her fingers. "And that feeling last night. The sense of fear, it was weird, you know. It felt like it woke me up."

Libby nodded. "It wakes me up every night," she agreed.

"—it's like a force or something. I don't think I heard anything before I felt afraid." She kept her voice down. "Now that I think of it, I just assumed I'd heard something in my sleep and only half remembered it."

Libby was nodding, her eyes distant, remembering. "That's true. Sometimes there's noise, but a lot of times I just start out of a dead sleep, scared out of my wits."

"So that's a clue!" Pallas said excitedly.

Libby grinned.

Pallas shifted in her seat, excited. "Okay, okay, so let's go back to the front and see if there's anything with a name that sounds like it might do that."

"Fear monster." A voice from above them.

Pallas nearly jumped out of her chair.

Libby gripped her chair. She looked up into the face. "Did you say 'fear monster'?"

"That's right." It was the other girl, her hair a red mass pulled back with a black strip of ribbon. She wore a really dark green dress that had black embroidery all through and made her look like a bonfire at midnight. She leaned down and tugged the book over. She flipped the pages like she knew them well, coming to a quick stop on the monster she wanted. "There," she jabbed a finger. Fearghal, Fearghall, Fergall. "Often accompanied by..." she flipped the pages, keeping a finger in the page with the fear monster to hold her place. She jabbed again. "This one. They tend to live next door to each other in the Baleful Forest." She'd landed on a monster Pallas recognized immediately. Gorgolina Gorgonza it said at the top, and the map in the corner showed a lush patch of forest by the city.

It was a medusa.

Midnight straightened, arms crossed in front of her. Dark green dress, reddish orange hair, like a flame in an ornate candle holder. "You gonna buy that book?" It was obvious; buy the book or leave.

The tone annoyed Pallas. What made her think they had no money? Then Pallas remembered her clothes; who'd wear them if they could afford better? And the fact that she'd mentioned the library, which it seemed like everyone in town knew was broke.

Pallas reached into her pocket. "You bet we're buying it. That and more." She pulled out the Developer's credit card and smacked it on the table. The seal big as an apricot and hard to miss. "You take credit?"

The girl's mouth dropped, her eyes on the card like it was a bar of gold.

Libby's mouth popped open in a little 'O'. She looked from Pallas to the shop girl.

Midnight hugged herself a little, like she was holding back her hands from snatching it. "That real?" she said. "I'm Ellanna, by the way."

It was like the shop girl had developed a second personality. Pallas got a quick rush of satisfaction, knew it was wrong to feel that way—but didn't care. This was what having money was like. People bend. "Of course it's real," she said as if very insulted by the question. "We're going to need this book." She smacked it with authority. "And to go along with our new book we're also going to do a... a display on killing monsters and stuff so we'll need the equipment for that. Real stuff, not like fake stuff. This is going to be an important display at the Peplos Public Library, that a lot of people are going to come and see. So we want it to be accurate."

Libby was looking at her with wide eyes.

"It's in the back," Ellanna said, and to Pallas' surprise the shop girl turned and without further questions walked off to get her request.

She came out five minutes later and dropped a large, unimpressive paper bag on the table. The kind that looked like some of the lunch bags kids brought to school that had been used and reused and had wrinkles in its wrinkles.

"That's it?" Pallas said, feeling a heat creep up to her cheeks. Some display, she thought, embarrassed.

Ellanna listed them off on her fingers. "For Gorgon, Croc M'sieur and Fear Monster, use liberal portions of Flubane."

Libby spoke up, brow furrowed. "Use how?"

The shop girl walked to the shelf and pulled out another book. "This is the latest book on the subject." She turned her head. "You may want this for your display too," she added with hard eyes.

"We'll take it," Pallas said.

That seemed to brighten her. She dragged a chair over and put a foot up on it, balancing the book on her knee. "Here, these three monsters you've pinned down are all from the same general locale in the Baleful Forest, and all of them were stopped by this explorer, in the tenth year of the Great Competition, while experimenting with powdered flubane against monsters in case of future infestations in the city." She handed it down to Pallas, open to the page. It was clear Ellanna considered Pallas as the one to talk to.

Pallas took it and made a point of putting it evenly between her and Libby so they could both look.

Libby and Pallas both read.

Libby looked up. "So he managed to throw this flubane on the monsters?"

Ellanna nodded. "And managed to die in the process," she said with satisfaction. "The monsters take a few minutes to die and can do a lot of damage in the meantime."

Libby nodded, going a little white. "I've heard that a lot of the explorers who went to find out about the monsters didn't come back."

A voice came up the aisle. "Their notebooks were found, though." It was the Doll. She was munching from a bag of warm roasted nuts.

The sweet smell made Pallas' mouth water. She wondered if she could buy those off her too. She looked out the window, noticing the sun big in the sky. "We better go," she said to Libby. "My dad will be wondering where we are." Not. But she felt like getting out of there.

The Doll took them up to the front to check out. The two books and the flubane came to a whopping 40 drachma and Pallas wondered with annoyance whether the shop girls were ripping her off. Then she remembered it was the Developer's card.

The Doll turned it in her hand, looking it over like she was trying to memorize it. "I have to check this out in the back," she said.

Pallas grabbed the card. The Doll still held onto it, a little tense tugging match between them. "Whoa, wait a minute, what do you mean, check it out?" You don't just let anyone take something that valuable 'into the back'.

"I have to contact the Developer's office and get them to okay the sale." The Doll tugged hard, pulling the card out of Pallas' startled hand. "O-kay?"

"Oh," Pallas said softly. Like send a messenger? So he'd know what they were buying?

"You still want to buy everything?" the Doll said.

Pallas hesitated. What would be the harm in the Developer knowing? She'd bet a grilled cheese he already knew about the monsters. Only maybe it wouldn't be so great if he knew Pallas was using his card to buy stuff to try to get rid of them. She'd gotten the feeling that pretending to be on his side had been a useful stalling tactic. But to prevent... what? She didn't know. It was only a hunch. But what else could they do? She needed to get rid of the monsters and they didn't have any other money.

Libby put her hand on Pallas' wrist. "We don't have to..." she said just low enough that the shop girls couldn't hear.

Actually, they did have to, Pallas thought. None of them were safe until the monsters were gone. So they had to. No matter the consequences. And besides, if it worked, then what did it matter if the Developer knew they had monsters and Pallas had helped to get rid of them? The monsters would be gone by then. "Okay, go ahead."

The Doll gave her a funny, one eyebrow raised look, and took the card with her into the back. They waited. And waited. And after a long, tense wait it was done.

The Doll came back out. "It cleared."

Pallas nodded, her hands clammy. "Did they say anything else?"

"Just that you can buy anything you want," the Doll said. "Lucky you," she smiled, flat and maybe jealous.

The Doll tied up the books with twine and just handed them the bag of flubane. "Don't drop it," she said sarcastically. "That's all we got."

Libby insisted on carrying the books, so Pallas carried the bag of flubane. Pallas was quiet coming out of the shop, trying to work over the consequences of what she'd just done. "We'd better hurry," she said, the day growing long around them. "Who is this Eric guy anyway?" They certainly had enough statues of him.

"Athena's son."

"Oh." Hadn't expected that.

They were crossing one of the quieter streets when two men appeared in front of them, blocking their path. Big guys, and a meaty hand reached out and grabbed Pallas' arm. "The Developer would like to see you, little girl," he snarled, his voice like gravel. Pallas' heart leapt in her throat.

The other guy shoved Libby. "Not you, shrimp."

Pallas struggled. Too strong. He pinned her arms. Pallas' fingers gripped the paper bag. The flubane. An instinct had kept her from dropping it when the goon grabbed her. An old homeless woman once told her in a fight, Use what you have to hand. A split second decision. She kicked. He cried out. Distracted. Enough for Pallas to sneak her hands together in front of her and open the bag. Stick her hand in. Feel soft powder in her fingers. Reach up—throw it in a wide arc at the guy's eyes.

He swore. Pallas felt the goon's grip come off. He'd dropped her, backed up to his partner and put his hands over his face. Libby and Pallas ran.

Moments later Pallas turned but Libby went the other way and waved her down a street. "Come on!" she shouted.

Pallas ran after her. Her lungs hurt by the time they slowed, and she couldn't run anymore as her feet thudded like dead weight, gasping for air. "We... we lost them."

"Yeah," said Libby, panting, still gripping the big books. "Wow, he must really want to talk to you," she said. "They could have grabbed us this morning, when we came out of the library," she said. "Why didn't they?"

Pallas shook her head. She leaned against a tree. "Because I was telling you the truth. This morning I went along with his daughter to give us time, and maybe get information from her. Now that's blown." She breathed hard. "That street was dead empty." A brisk wind blew, chilling her warm skin. Her throat was dry as a cornhusk. She straightened. "Just who is this guy?"

"The Developer? Gee, where are you from? Everyone knows the Developer. He's first citizen. The most important man in the city."

"Great," Pallas said.

CHAPTER TEN

That evening they ate a sparse dinner with Pallas' dad and Ms. Sternly in the library's gloomy dining room. Dinner was served downstairs. In the library part of the library. Which surprised Pallas. The librarians she'd run across never allowed food and beverages near the books. Shelves of thick books surrounded them. The bookshelves went as high as the ceiling, and some frayed, faded chairs sat in corners. Everything, from plates and bowls, to the old carpet, to the scuffed old dining table seemed rundown. Like the elegance of an earlier time when the library had been in its prime.

Libby and Ms. Sternly placed large, cracked tureens of steaming food. They sat at a heavy wooden dining table with ancient looking carpet under their feet. Everyone passed the tureens of food around, but the table was big, and so they had to stretch to reach.

"Back when the library was founded it was a centerpiece of the city," Ms. Sternly explained over their spartan meal. "In fact, the city was built around this library; the only things built before the library were the city walls, a few houses, and the market. That's how people felt about a library back then, it was a founding building. Couldn't have a city without it."

"So you have books that old?" Connell O'Fiddian asked.

"Oh yes, the very first head librarian, Libby's great great great great grandmother, saw the first books bound and brought into the library. It was built up, room by room, over the years. Till it was full to bursting. Of course, nobody cares now." Ms. Sternly tore a piece of bread like she was tearing the head off something. "Unfortunately," she bit out the words, "the citizens of Peplos have decided that libraries with old books are a waste of time. And that the new library across town deserves all their business."

Pallas' father seemed like the only one who was enjoying his food. He munched contentedly, reaching for the potatoes tureen. "How long have the patrons been staying away?"

Ms. Sternly cut a dry looking brussels sprout sort of thing. "About one hundred years—No. One hundred and fifty."

Libby's eyes raced over Pallas and her dad. No one said anything.

After dinner, Pallas and Libby went up to Libby's room and hit the books.

Libby opened the door and put the wooden lamp down on the bedside table. She went around and lit little flames in small wall niches that contained firefruit oil and a wick. There were numerous little niches on each wall. Libby lit them all. Until the room glowed golden like a secret amidst dark water.

A cluttered secret.

Pallas had never been inside Libby's room. It felt like being inside her mind.

Stacks of books with names like 'Library Management' and 'Great Libraries of the Twelve Cities' sat around.

Above a writing desk lined with statues made of firetree wood, sitting like a collection of action figures, hung a big inky drawing of a dozen buildings lined up like a chart, and Athena at the four corners of the drawing, and Libraries Through History in large letters across the top.

On another wall, above a small table with a bucket of fake flowers and a badly rendered stuffed toy owl, was another drawing of Athena, sitting down as though after a long day's battle, her helmet beside her, reading a good book. A big scrawl said, After a hard day, why not relax with a book?

On the floor was a big round throw rug, with a giant book crocheted in the middle.

Pallas kicked off her sneakers. "Lock the door, we don't want Dad or Ms. Sternly coming in while we're looking at the books."

"Right." Libby locked the door behind them.

Pallas climbed onto the bed and put one leg under her, opening the giant book on monsters. "Okay, let's see what we're up against tonight."

Libby climbed on the bed beside her. Pallas flipped through to the entry for the first monster they'd identified. "Here it is. Croc M'sieur," she read:

*

The croc ruins anything it tries to build with its little, ineffective hands. Being that its little, ineffective hands cannot destroy anything properly, however, the croc is frequently in a rage of smashing with its giant tail. A giant, bumbling monster with little, vicious, wriggling hands eager to tear flesh, who would just as soon crush anything that got in its way with a gleeful stomp, these horrible creatures are known to love the taste of roasted human flesh despite the fact that they have a hard time building anything so constructive as a fire with their little hands.

The croc is a massive monster with no sense of how big he is, or how easily he breaks things, or what he should value in this world. His giant tail is only matched by his giant teeth and hot breath, and the ugly snarl he croaks out while he glares around hating everyone and everything in his way.

A horrible, scaly, evil creature that is not allowed into the city. Crocs swing their tails in destructive arcs, smashing just for the pleasure of it. Crocs live alone in the forest and tend to rarely mate, despite their unbridled bellowing mating call every third moon. Or, perhaps, because of it. (Often found living adjacent to a fear monster and/or a gorgon. Enjoys tea and card games.)

*

"We have one of those here? In the library?" Libby said, sounding worried.

Pallas shrugged. "If the tooth fits..." she said, trying not to sound scared. "There's more." Pallas flipped to the next monster. She read, tugging at a piece of lint on the bed:

*

Fearghal, Fear Monster—Possibly originated in the Warlands.

*

"Warlands? What are those?" asked Pallas.

Libby shrugged. "They're past the Baleful Forest. No one knows much about them anymore because no one can get to them. No one can get through the Baleful Forest, 'cause of the monsters."

"Huh." Pallas kept reading:

*

The fear monster brings fear like a stench. Terrorizing its victims, savoring them like a cat does a mouse, the fear monster will taunt and toy with its prey, often waiting for months, until the hapless victim is in a stupor of fear, to actually kill it. Unless angered; then the fear monster has been known to act in a frenzy of rage and revenge, destroying in the most brutal way it can, by acting out the fears that it extracts from its victims in a kind of 'lunch session' of terror, where it forces the victim to expose their greatest fears and then tries in extremely creative ways to recreate these fears while forcing the victim to cook it lunch, clean up around the forest, and sometimes even pretend to play a game of cards with it. DO NOT BE LULLED by a fear monster that only frightens you a little, or even, for the adventurer, in an exciting way, and then lulls you into a game of cards. It is only figuring out what to do with you. Consider yourself trapped. (Frequently found living adjacent to croc and gorgon. Enjoys tea and card games.)

*

Pallas tugged at the hem of her pants, twisting it nervously. She flipped the page fast.

"Hey, I haven't finished," said Libby.

"Sorry." Pallas flipped back and waited. Her eyes landing on such choice morsels as 'terrorizing its victims,' and 'lunch session of terror'. A weird nervous buzzing had begun in her head. Like thoughts went by too fast. How were they going to do this? Go right up to the monster and... do what? Throw flubane and run?

Pallas glanced at the wrinkled, pathetic looking paper bag of flubane on the table. Did that stuff even work? Sure, it stung that guy's eyes, but sand could do that. She grabbed the other book and flipped through quickly to get to the flubane chapter. "Okay, I'm done," Libby said just then. Pallas pushed the flubane book aside and turned the pages in the monster book. Gorgon, gorgon... Her nerves were getting to her, reading about these monsters.

"This is going to be hard," Libby said. Pallas heard the faintness in her voice and got annoyed because it made her more worried.

"Well, we've got to do it," Pallas said. She swallowed dryly.

Libby didn't say anything. She looked pale.

Pallas flipped to the next monster. The gorgon leered up at her. Why did they have to sound so mean and rotten? She wished the monsters would just go away and die. Why did she have to deal with them?

*

Gorgon

*

There are numerous species of Gorgon. For gorgons living in the Baleful Forest see p. 292.

*

Pallas flipped to page 292 and read:

*

Forest Gorgon, Gorgolina

*

The forest gorgon is especially known to prey on the loved ones of her victims. One of the most dangerous monsters to be banned from the city, the forest gorgon has been known to travel great distances to seek revenge for intrusion into her forest homeland. Many explorers have been turned to stone by her horrible visage, but she does not stop there. The forest gorgon will then go after the explorer's entire family in an attempt to eradicate any potential enemies.

She tends to 'comb down' her snakes, but beware, if you see her face you will be turned to stone.

This gorgon is extremely dangerous and should not be offended in any way. The forest gorgon is frequently found living adjacent to a fear monster and a croc in a sort of monster cluster. (Enjoys tea and card games.)

*

Libby was looking at her. "So?" she said in that hollow way, "What do we do?"

Why do I have to decide? "How do I know?" Pallas snapped. "Don't freak out, okay? We look at the flubane chapter and figure out what to do." She grabbed the other book roughly. She felt a lump of fear in her chest. I'm the one freaking out, she thought. But why is this my responsibility? It's your library. This wasn't fair. She found the page on flubane and opened it up on the bed, shoving it close to Libby so that they both could see, but so that Pallas had to lean closer to Libby to see the book, letting her own it. "There it is," she said.

Libby pushed her glasses up. "So what do we have to do?"

"Read it and find out," Pallas said testily, looking down to read it herself:

*

Flubane Powder

*

Flubane is a rare substance deadly to monsters.

*

Pallas read the page, growing more fond of her bag of flubane every second.

*

A monster attacked with flubane will often twist and writhe in agony. It is a horrible death.

*

Okay.

*

Very little flubane is necessary to kill a monster.

*

Good.

*

To kill a monster with flubane, sprinkle a pinch of the powder on the monster's skin. The flubane will cause excessive bleeding. May take a few minutes for a monster to die.

(Harmless to humans, flubane may cause stinging and temporary blindness. If it gets in eyes, rinse well.)

*

"Good," Pallas said brightly. The entry sounded very authoritative. "Okay, so we know what we have to do," she said. "We have to throw the flubane on them. Says here we just have to get it onto their skin."

Libby nodded, her hand pressed to her mouth, eyes wide as she stared at the instructions. "Says they bleed," she said quietly.

Pallas frowned to herself. She didn't want to think about that part. "So?"

Libby pinched a corner of the page and turned it. "Says the flubane hurts them really bad. Should we use only a little like they say?"

No way, Pallas thought. She was the one who had to do this. Fine. But if she had to do this then she was getting rid of the monsters tonight, now, with no chance of them surviving. "We'll use the whole bag."

"But it says that you only need to use a little and that they still die. Shouldn't we do that? Shouldn't we save some?"

"So that they can come upstairs and attack us with their last burst of strength? No way. We have to use the whole bag. We'll throw it on them and run," Pallas added, dearly wishing she didn't need to get near the monsters at all. The thought of it made her go cold.

"Maybe we should wait, and try to think of something else," Libby said, hesitating. "Maybe we could come up with a different idea. After all, the monsters have been roaming around for two weeks and haven't hurt us yet."

"But they've scared you, isn't that bad enough?" said Pallas. "And remember what that book said about how the fear monster plays with its victims. He could be waiting to eat you."

Libby looked worried. She began chewing a thumbnail. "But how do we know these books are right?"

Pallas poked the monster book. Poke poke. "Look, this book is brand new. Both these books are. You heard what the drakonia said; no one used to make it out of the Baleful Forest. That's because they didn't have information." She poked again, pressing the book into the bed. "It's up to date on all the information."

"I don't know..." Libby hesitated.

"We gotta do it. It's too dangerous to have monsters. Libby, I'm not from here, I'm from...elsewhere. But I can tell that if anyone finds out... let me just say, even though I haven't been here long, I get the feeling that... there are a lot of people in this city who'd like to blow up the library."

Libby's brow furrowed. She looked down. "I know."

"Sorry, Libby, I..."

"No," Libby said. "It's the truth." She looked up again, determined. "We have to do it."

Pallas nodded. "Okay." A part of her wanted Libby to back out of it. Keep fighting to convince her not to do it.

Run up to a monster and throw stinging powder on them? I'm not brave enough, Pallas thought to herself angrily. And I don't want to be! Why do I have to be? If only there was a way out of having to do this. She couldn't make Libby do it alone. But after taking a good look at those monsters, she was going to confront them, throw poison on them and then run for her life? It was crazy. There had to be a way out of it! She stopped, looking at the bucket of fake flowers Libby had on a table.

"...We could sneak up on them," Libby was saying. "We'll hide, and then run at them," she was suggesting. "You know, throw stuff and run past, back up the stairs maybe."

That sounded suicidal, Pallas thought. There had to be an easier way. "Some kind of trap..."

"Trap?" said Libby.

"Yeah, you know, like a bucket above a door and stuff. We could get them all," she said, feeling a little bit better. Not enough, but a little. That way, she wouldn't have to get close to the monsters. "We can rig it, you know, like Halloween pranks."

"What's Halloween?" Libby asked.

"You don't have Halloween? Only the best holiday ever, but that's beside the point. You know what I mean, like when a bunch of kids rig a bucket over a door to dump water on the next kid who opens it. You know, some nerd too stupid to..." She stopped.

"Oh. I get it. Sure. One of those." Libby was frowning. She looked to Pallas. "Do you think we can?"

"Sure, why not?" said Pallas, breezing past, trying not to sound weird. "I used to set things like that up with buckets and strings." Pallas looked away quickly. Scratched her neck.

"They won't be expecting it," Libby said thoughtfully.

"It'll work," said Pallas, trying to sound reassuring. "I know it will." Pallas' fear uncoiled a little; she felt guilty relief that she didn't have to face the monsters. She was too afraid. That's as good as I can do, she thought. And it doesn't make me a bad person.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

By the time they'd gotten things ready it was eleven at night, almost time for the monsters to show up. It was all pretty ingenious, creating levers and pulleys out of empty spools of thread and things. Libby watched nervously as the gizmo was built and kept asking for explanations of how things worked but Pallas didn't worry; she grew more confident that it would work the more intricate the pulleys got.

They set up the last traps over the door to the kitchen and over the icebox where the food was kept.

"Okay, that's it." Pallas picked up the wrinkled bag of flubane that had dropped on the floor and shook it; empty. Except for some dusty dregs they'd used the whole bag. Except for what she threw at the guy. I hope this works, she thought.

*

Pallas sat up in bed. A crawling terror. Something awful was going to happen and she couldn't stop it.

Dad! Was he okay?

The first chilling scream came from downstairs. The distant, growling cry slithered up her spine, sending tendrils of fear down her arms and legs, making her body tremble. Then it changed—or came from a different monster. Low, braying howls. Like something in pain.

Pallas pulled her knees up to her chest and put her head down.

The library shook. Pallas clamped her teeth tight, waiting.

BANG!

Every muscle in her body popped like a cork. What was happening down there? She could just imagine the monsters' surprise. The pain! Furiously trying to get the powder off.

BANG! A huge crack and the sound of wood splintering. Growls now. The monsters sounded really mad. And they weren't dying yet, Pallas realized. The monsters weren't dying yet.

They sounded mad.

A frantic knock on her door. Pallas jumped.

"Pallas! Pallas!" came the tiny frightened voice. It was Libby.

"Go to bed!" Pallas hissed. "I mean it. Lock the door!"

Then nothing.

Then the stairs creaked.

*

They're coming up the stairs.

Libby? Had she gotten to her room in time?

A cold sweat gripped her. Her room was dark except for the glow of firefruit in the trees below, the winking eyes of firebirds. Pallas groped for the empty bag of flubane on the table by the bed. It crinkled, soft and useless in her trembling hands. She hadn't brought a knife or a club or any weapon to bed with her.

Another creak on the stairs. Like something sneaking up. She gripped the bag tighter.

Pallas braced herself, heart pounding, and threw off the bed covers, went to the door and listened.

She took a deep breath. Threw the door open.

She rushed out. The dark hall sat empty. She rustled inside the empty bag of flubane, fished for powder, scraping the sides of the bag with her fingers. There was barely enough to dust her hand. She stood at the top of the stairs, trembling.

Behind her she heard movement in other bedrooms.

She heard a door open. Turned fast. Heart racing, mouth dry. A head poked out of the wall. It was her dad. "Pallas? What's going on?"

She hid the bag behind her back. "Uh... Ms. Sternly said everyone should stay in their rooms. That's where I'm going now."

Her dad nodded. "Get back in your room quick. Lock the door."

"Right!" said Pallas.

He nodded and retreated. She heard his bolt lock. At the same time Ms. Sternly hurried out. "Get to your room. Immediately. Everyone to their rooms!" she said, pulling her robe around her.

Pallas had turned, still blocking the stairway. "Right! We should all lock our doors."

Ms. Sternly nodded. "Right! Hurry up then." She slammed her room door and bolted it.

Pallas turned back to the head of the stairs and waited. She heard another door open. Someone come up beside her.

Pallas stared hard down the darkened, winding stairs. "You should go to bed, Libby." She didn't want to look at her. This was a mess. And my fault.

"But..." Libby began.

"There's nothing you can do," Pallas said. There was no use them both risking it. Her hand tightened around the tiny amount of flubane she had left.

Libby grabbed the bag. "I'll throw this at them. Okay?"

"No! There's none left in there anyway—"

"It's my library!" Libby hissed, not budging.

Pallas frowned. She watched Libby tear the paper bag open so that the dusty insides would get on anything it touched. "Okay," she said. "Ready."

Pallas heard a loud smash in the distance, wood splintering. The steps she'd heard before had been light, stealthy, like someone had come half way up the stairs and waited to pounce. Now she heard the heavy steps of something BIG coming up the stairs, moving slowly, deadly, getting closer. It sounded like his giant feet crushed the stairs with every step. She was breathing hard, she could barely see! It was too dark... Her ears had never listened so hard. Whatever it was cried again, a long low bellow. She could barely stand the sound of anguish. He'd been really hurt.

The closeness of the cry. The screaming and growling got louder. "SNAAAR-SNAAARGLE! SNAAAA-RGLE!" it raged.

A shadow appeared on the stairs. Huge, looming. Long jaws, sharp teeth, snarling in a low fury, the croc monster! It was coming.

A cold white fear cut through Pallas' bones like icy wind. Libby gasped and was backing up and suddenly ran back to her room. Pallas refused to run. This was her fault for trying to hide upstairs. She wouldn't let the monsters get past her, she'd die first!

Suddenly Libby came bolting out of her room carrying the giant monster book over her head. She raced up and stood beside Pallas, the heavy book over her head, arms trembling. She waited to smash it down.

There it was. The long snout, coming around the corner. The overwhelming terror brought by the fear monster. The distant hiss of the gorgon's hair growing ever louder.

Then the snout stopped. The growling stopped. The trembling, pounding fear. Everything stopped. The monsters were just around the corner. The snout vanished back around the corner.

Pallas' heart beat loud in the silence. What were they waiting for?

She heard voices, almost whispers. Low arguing. And then they were moving away. There was a final giant, crunching thud, like a foot had gone through something. The croc let out a final bellow in the distance.

Gone. Defeated. Silence. But were they really gone? Or hiding in the library? Are the monsters just waiting downstairs?

Pallas sat with a thunk on the floor, legs trembling; a sweaty, trembling mess. Libby plunked down beside her, the giant book of monsters on her lap.

Was it over? Pallas kept her fist clenched around the dusting of flubane in her palm and pressed her other hand into her face, realizing just in time not to touch her eyes. She closed her eyes hard. "We have to go check," she said to Libby. It was the last thing she wanted to do. She just wanted to go to bed. Maybe the monsters were downstairs, dead. Or would be soon. "We'll wait a few minutes."

CHAPTER TWELVE

The library was creepy in the night, the entryway dark and looming with shadows.

But when Pallas and Libby got downstairs the library was just... a mess. A mess but no monsters to be seen.

Pallas and Libby went deeper into the library. The flubane dusty air stung their eyes. It smelled acrid, like a chemical or something. Like a skunk rolling in rotten peaches.

A trail of blood led them through a narrow corridor and into a large room. "What is this place?" Pallas whispered.

"Myth and Folklore room," Libby whispered.

With flubane powder dusted over one hand, Pallas raised her wooden lantern in the other. She could just make out the heavy, dark books along the walls that went up into pitch blackness. "Wow, this place is big," she whispered. Her hand had begun to itch. She put her lantern low and followed the sticky dark blood on the floor. The trail ended at a bookshelf. In the dark, with just her and Libby's small lantern, everything was hard to see. But there it was, reddish-black and sticky. "Hey, look at this, there's blood on these books," said Pallas. The pattern of blood across the old books seemed like a hand or paw print. Pallas put her lantern down on the floor beside the trail of blood. She put her hand over the stained books. "Why does the blood end here?" She pushed. The wall behind the books gave, like a spring mechanism. She heard a latch click and a section of bookshelf about the size of a large door, rolled out about a foot. Pallas pulled, hard, and the bookshelf swung open.

It looked like a narrow stairway. Pallas couldn't see the end of it because it was too dark. But she could guess it went down a long way.

They waited, listening.

"I think they're dead," said Pallas finally.

"Are you sure?" said Libby.

"I don't know. I guess so." Pallas peered down the dim stairs. Maybe the flubane powder had overwhelmed the monsters and they went off to die. "The book said the flubane powder took a few minutes to kill, so maybe they crawled off to die. Maybe that's the end of it."

"Is that where they came out of every night? I've never seen this before," Libby said, reaching out her lantern to try to see down the narrow stairs. "I wonder where it leads."

"Does the library have a basement?"

Libby shrugged. "Just a cellar." She peered in. "Did they live down there?"

"...Pallas! Pallas, you down there?"

The voice made them jump. Pallas exhaled; it was her dad, calling from upstairs.

Pallas shut the bookshelf door hastily, the locking mechanism clicking back into place. "Yeah, Dad, I'm coming!" she called up, trying to be as quiet as she could and still yell. "We'll have to check," she whispered to Libby.

"You mean go down there?" Libby's eyes went wide in the lantern glow.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean," said Pallas. "We gotta make sure. That they're dead or run away or something, gone."

Libby frowned to herself.

"But we'll wait," Pallas decided then and there. "See if there's noise tomorrow night. If we don't hear noise at night then it could be it worked."

"Good idea," said Libby, looking relieved.

Pallas and Libby hurried back upstairs to bed.

That night, Pallas lay in her bed and wondered if they really had killed the monsters. The library was silent; not a peep from downstairs.

Maybe it worked, she thought, uneasy.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They waited a tense day and night. The next morning light streaked across the walls. Sounds of a waking city lifted on a pleasant breeze. Pallas' door flew open and banged the wall. Pallas sat up like a bolt and Libby charged into her room, fluffy slippers sliding across the floor. She waved her arms. "Nothing! Did you hear? Nothing!" She bounced onto the bed.

Pallas rubbed her eyes. She was tired. It had taken her a long time to get to sleep.

Libby bounced up and down, sending tremors through the mattress. "No monsters! We did it! The monsters are gone!!" She jumped up and twirled, her nightgown flaring out.

Pallas smiled to herself, sinking down in the bed, tired. They'd really done it? She wished she could sleep all day, but Libby was tugging her arm, "Get up! Get up!"

Libby tugged and Pallas sprawled across the bed. "Stop!" Pallas said, half falling out of bed along with the bedding.

Libby giggled and pulled. "Food—breakfast... grunt."

"STO—OP!" Pallas tumbled in a heap to the floor. "Ow," she said and laughed.

Libby sat with a breathless thud beside her.

Did they really do it? Pallas lay there.

Libby giggled, heaving, and then sobered.

"Maybe they're not gone."

"They are," Libby said with conviction.

Pallas could tell that Libby wanted so bad for it to be true. It would be nice to believe that one night without monsters meant they were gone.

Libby laid on the floor next to her. She looked serious.

"Well, why the face if you think they're gone?" Pallas said.

Libby stared at the ceiling. "Because without monsters— I'm sure you've got a lot of important cases waiting."

"Oh." Pallas looked up at the dark wood ceiling. They lay in silence for a minute.

"You're probably leaving today."

Pallas didn't say anything. She didn't know how she'd get back to Earth. She didn't know where they could go. Her dad didn't seem interested in leaving. Every time she saw him he was reading library books and muttering.

"I mean, you could stay here while you set up shop," Libby continued after a moment. She sat up. "You could have an office in the library. And I know you're from somewhere else, but you'll be staying in Peplos now that you're detective. Right? Where are you from?" Libby thudded down onto her back again.

"Like I said, pretty far away," said Pallas quietly.

Pallas felt like a little kid, the two of them on the floor in their nightgowns. Like they'd had a sleepover. She felt kinda silly. Libby lay there smiling. "What are you so happy about?" Pallas asked.

"It's just that," Libby paused. "You know, I've never had a best friend before." She stared at the ceiling, her face pink. She waited, expectant.

Pallas picked at the old throw rug on the floor, uncomfortable.

Libby sat up quickly. She pushed up her glasses. "Well, let's get downstairs. We've got breakfast to pick from the yard." She got up and, without waiting for Pallas, hurried downstairs.

"Hey, wait for me!" Pallas exclaimed.

*

Pallas had to shout to stop Libby from stepping into the hole in the bottom step. They'd put a plank over the hole so that no one would step in it, then threw a rug over it, but it had moved. So they moved it all back. As they were doing so the door swung open and Dusty, the Developer's daughter, strode in. Blond hair swishing, flowy dress. An unwelcome intruder.

"Leave," Libby said.

"My father sends a message."

Pallas stared at her sharply.

"Say it and go," Libby said. Pallas heard the worry.

"My dad's First Citizen. And he's taken an interest in this library and offered a good price. You're a fool not to accept, Libby."

Libby's mouth opened, her face tightening. "If that's all you've got to say—"

"—My dad wanted me to relay a message. This is for both of you. There's a fairytale you might like." Dusty turned and headed to the door absently. "'The Flubane Fool.' Look it up in one of your old books." She put on a hat she'd been carrying in her hand. Seemed sort of gangstery. "Daddy seemed real tickled by it." She tilted the pink fedora.

Libby stood stiffly, her face red, stunned. "The Flubane Fool?" she said quietly.

"I have to go now. Daddy's business calls! Let me know if you want to sell tonight. The papers can be drawn up this evening."

Pallas watched the bright day disappear behind Dusty as she walked out of the library. Sealing them in like the entrance to a tomb. Flubane Fool? Her heart had begun to thud.

"Sell tonight!" Libby exclaimed. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. "She's crazy," she said softly. "I can't—" She stopped, dropped her hands. Expression changed. "Flubane fool?" Libby said, perplexed.

Pallas had never spoken to the Developer personally, but she could almost hear him laughing.

The monsters!

Pallas headed straight for the myth and folklore wing of the library.

"Wait!" Libby called out. She hurried after her. "Do you think it means anything?" she asked. "What the Developer said?"

"You mean is he just trying to scare us?" Pallas said, feeling her nerves spike. "I don't know. It's in that myth room, right?" Where the monsters came out of that bookshelf.

"Should be," Libby said, looking worried.

They walked through a small corridor of books which opened up into the huge Myth and Folklore room. High up, a balcony went around the bookshelves.

Pallas looked up and around. She'd been here yesterday, at dawn, to clean up the blood. Her and Libby had kept their heads down. Worked quickly. This was where the blood trail ended.

"Folktales are up here." Libby's voice echoed as she walked across the long room. The room dwarfed them, with books up to the ceiling, higher than anyone could reach. As if three big bookshelves stood on top of each other.

Libby began climbing a narrow spiral stairway at the far end of the room that led up to the balcony.

Pallas followed, keeping a hand on the railing. The rickety balcony creaked and wherever she put her hand left a clean print where thick dust had been. Seemed like no one had been to look at these books in ages.

Libby walked halfway across the rickety balcony when she stopped at a bookshelf of really old looking books. Older even than the books Pallas' dad was always looking at.

Libby ran her finger over the bindings. "Here it is," she said. She pulled out a slender volume, bruised and battered on the edge, whose title read 'The Flubane Fool and Other Stories'.

Like walking on a rickety bridge over a canyon, they made their creaky way back down and sat at one of the many tables.

Pallas and Libby leaned over the book, reading in the thick silence. It was a simple story, and the more Pallas read, the bigger the black hole of despair and terror pooled in her stomach.

It was a brutal story of disembowelment and card playing.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Flubane Fool.

One day monsters started coming into a village at night to eat the villagers. This wasn't so strange, as the foolish villagers had built their village not just next to the forest, but almost half inside it.

The most foolish of these villagers was a boy called Dorkus. Dorkus did something really stupid. You see, at night, when everyone hid, Dorkus stuck his head out his window to watch the monsters.

One day a monster spotted him and told Dorkus that he was going to go eat his father.

Now, as is the way with most monsters, this monster didn't just tell Dorkus he was going to eat his father, but told Dorkus' father as well, because that would make Dorkus suffer even worse. The monster started to come every night to the window of the hut and discuss this with Dorkus' father.

Dorkus' father wanted to live, and so he tried to prolong his life by pretending to enjoy the great detail with which the monster would describe the various ways he might kill him. Soon the other monsters would join in at the window for the discussion, or come in for a good card game, and for a time, the eating of villagers stopped.

Dorkus' father was starting to be considered a kind of a hero around the village, but one night, Dorkus got it in his foolish head to try to kill the monsters. The next day Dorkus set off for the next village, a much smarter village who'd had the sense to live further from the forest.

There, Dorkus found a wise old woman who told him that to kill monsters, you simply needed flubane. She couldn't quite remember how much, although she thought he would just need a pinch of flubane in the face of each monster, that would probably do the trick.

But she was wise enough to know she didn't know everything, and urged Dorkus to go to the next village, even further away from the forest, and thus an even smarter village, and check with the wise old woman there, for she was the only one who had actually killed a monster.

But Dorkus thought the old woman was wise enough, and he decided not to seek any further. He hurried back with what he'd learned.

Dorcus hid the flubane behind his back and when the monsters came to the window, this time with beverages, cards, and a list they'd created of even more creative ways to kill his father that they wanted his father's opinion on, Dorkus rudely threw his pinch of flubane, pinch, pinch, pinch, into the faces of each monster.

It stung their eyes horribly, and they screamed, and then they leered back at him and broke down the wall and ate his father.

And then they ate Dorkus.

Ate parts of him for days.

While keeping him alive.

For you see, if Dorkus had gone to the wiser, older woman at the smarter village further from the forest, he would have discovered that the only way to kill a monster with flubane is with a massive cart load of it. And the monster has to be immersed in it, and held there, until the flesh burns off its bones, and the screaming would be horrible, but by the time it was over you wouldn't care, because by then you'd be deaf from the blood curdling screams—as the wiser, older woman was.

*

Done. Libby sat back, eyes a little glazed. "I guess we should have read this." She sounded like she was in shock.

Pallas stared at the gleaming spot on the floor where the blood had been. Stared like her eyes were stuck. "Yeah, guess we should have." I'll bet they're really angry.

A numbing fear had descended over her. Libby swallowed in the silence.

"In the story," Libby began.

"Yeah?" Pallas said slowly. A small stray piece of paper sat on the desk, a torn sliver, she reached out and crumpled it.

"In the story, it says the monsters ate parts of him for days..."

"Yeah." Pallas crumpled.

"I wonder how he stayed alive? You know, while they ate him?"

The numbing fear squeezed like an invisible, stifling parka. She crushed the paper hard, squeezing it between her fingers. We're dead, she thought. Wow, I really messed up that one.

Libby put her cold hand on her arm. "Pallas?"

"Yeah?"

"Are they going to be as mad as that?"

"Probably," her voice sounded hollow. She was freaking Libby out. She had to snap out of it. She sat up straighter, put her arms on the cool desk. "But we don't know if this is true. Maybe it's not," she said quietly. "Maybe he's trying to scare us..." She thought of how the drakonia had said the explorer who had discovered flubane—or rediscovered it, had been eaten.

Pallas thought of Dorkus' dad in the story. How the monsters took out his foolish behavior on his dad. She had a dad in the library.

"What are we going to do?" Libby's voice was high and soft.

Pallas didn't say anything for a second. She stared at the gleaming patch on the floor, the bookshelf where the monsters came from. "We've got to go see for ourselves." She stood, the chair dragging back with a loud, unnerving scrape along the floor like someone screaming.

Libby stood too. Her face looked tight, eyes too wide.

Pallas tried not to feel scared. "We'll need that club. The one you keep under the podium."

Libby shook her head. "It's upstairs. Ms. Sternly's got it. Her room's locked."

"Okay, then we'll need knives and stuff. If we find anything hurt down there we'll try to kill it."

Libby nodded like a sleepwalker. "Okay," she said softly.

"Come on!" Pallas said, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the room.

They grabbed knives from the kitchen, a hammer and saw from the back yard, and lanterns. Then they went back to the room, and stood in front of the bookshelf.

"Ready?" Pallas asked and raised her hammer.

"Ready," Libby said weakly.

Pallas found the three books that the bloodstain had been across. And pushed.

The heavy bookshelf swung open like before, revealing the dusty stairs and the dark stain trailing down into the unknown.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Pallas lifted her lantern high.

Pallas and Libby's feet echoed on the dusty stairs. It grew colder the further down they went. When the stairs ended, they reached a barren corridor. It looked like natural caves that had been used a long time ago and forgotten. A secret. Like something pirates would use.

Libby spoke up, whispering. "I didn't know anything about this. Look! It goes all under the library. There's always more to learn at—"

"Come on," Pallas said, "we'll follow the trail, and then we can explore the other way."

They followed the trail of blood past many doors. Heavy old wooden doors, fit into natural rock archways. Pallas and Libby tried a few on their way, all locked. Finally the trail ended at another door. The door had a deep gash in it. Like claw marks.

"This is it," Pallas whispered. It had to be. She crouched and held her lantern down, following the trail of blood that slid under the door.

Libby held her saw ready, and Pallas lifted her hammer. They had the knives in their pockets. Pallas held her breath and reached for the doorknob.

Turned.

Twisted harder, both ways, and pushed at the door, pulled, yanked, shook—Pallas exhaled. "It's locked," she said, relief creeping into her voice. She heard Libby exhale too.

They made their way back down the corridor checking all the doors—locked. "Who would have the keys to these doors?" Pallas asked, thinking about what could be behind any of them.

"Nobody. Ms. Sternly gave me all the keys to the library. Or said she did."

The tunnel branched a distance away. Looked like it went on and on. Pallas and Libby reached the stairs that would take them back into the Myth and Folklore room. Libby began to climb but Pallas hesitated. They should see where these tunnels go...

Just then they heard a terrible scream.

"It's coming from upstairs!" Libby exclaimed. "It's in the library!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Pallas and Libby raced up the stairs and into the library. It's bad, Pallas thought. Something really bad happened.

They headed back through the small corridor of books that led from the Myth and Folklore room into the main library, Libby going first and at the end of the corridor Libby turned. Pallas had taken her eyes off her for a second. Gone.

Where had she got to?

Pallas' heart thumped. "Libby?"

She walked through another vast room. "Libby?"

"Over here," called a faint voice.

Pallas followed the voice to a pleasant, if dusty, book lined room where a man sprawled dazed on the floor. Libby crouched over him, fanning with a book. "He's muttering about monsters," she said, looking pale.

"Oh boy." The thread of hope Pallas had left plummeted to her toes.

The man wore a thin v-neck sweater, yellow like a lemon, with dark curly hair. He had a paunchy gut, chinos and sandals. He didn't look in very good condition. He could have been scared to death, Pallas thought. Across his torn sweater a scraggly note had been pinned. Written in a chalky red mix of what smelled like flubane and looked like blood, was 'AVENGE. TONIGHT.'

"Mr. Gorran, are you all right?" Libby asked. The room had grimy windows not much light got through. There was a small oil lamp by one of the chairs that was still lit. "He works with my dad as a cabbie, I recognized him right away." She started to get upset, her voice louder. "He's a new member. MR. GORRAN DO YOU NEED A DOCTOR?"

He groaned.

"We better get one," said Pallas.

It was as though Libby hadn't heard her. She spoke rapidly, a little breathless. "He hasn't come to," she said, still fanning him.

"Where's Ms. Sternly?" Pallas asked, glancing around.

"She has civic activities today," said Libby. "She won't be here all morning."

They crouched near the muttering man. Libby leaned forward. "Are you okay, sir?" She reached out and touched his wrist.

He flinched and yelped, terrified. "Monster!" he cried. "Get away from me!"

Pallas put her hand his shoulder. "You're all right."

He shook his head, eyes wide and glassy. "I was in that chair..." he pointed to the comfiest chair in the room. The one by the oil lamp. "...reading. Then suddenly, suddenly, this thing...!" He covered his eyes. "It grabbed me!"

Pallas spoke up fast. "What did it look like?"

"I couldn't see it!" he said. He grabbed her wrist, hard. "It grabbed me like this! Only the neck. And it... I don't know, it roughed me up. I was so afraid I think I passed out." He was rubbing his neck, eyes dazed, he looked around. "I'm getting out of here—" he pulled his legs under him and, using Libby's head to brace, managed to stand. He touched his sweater. His face twisted, surprised. "What's this?" He tugged it, hands trembling, and began tugging it off. He pulled the shirt up, trying to get the narrow v-neck past his thick neck and head. "This is a new sweater," he shouted, the sweater over his face. Then, like he'd just realized. "You have monsters!"

"Monsters?" said Pallas lightly. "That's ridiculous, it was probably some kids, you know they come in and ride their bikes in here..."

"It was the ghost, sir, not monsters," said Libby quietly. She looked pink and nervous. Going with her plan to tell everyone the library had ghosts instead of monsters. "You know Old Dementia Biblos haunts."

"That's no ghost that did this!" His head had reappeared, red and winded, over his undershirt, his dark hair frizzed up from pulling up the staticky sweater. "I only came here because your father asked me to."

"My dad asked you?" Libby exclaimed softly.

"Yes," Mr. Gorran said, preoccupied. He'd got the shirt between his hands and was looking at the message. "Great Zeus..."

"It's the ghost, sir," Libby said firmly. "I'm very sorry about this."

"That's old Dementia's writing, can't you tell?" Pallas added, going along with Libby. Maybe ghosts were taken seriously in Peplos City. Maybe everyone with monsters claimed they had ghosts. "She's been messing stuff up all over the library lately." She looked at Libby. Libby got upset when Pallas insulted the library in front of the Developer's daughter. Should she do it now?

Libby nodded. Stoic faced.

"Everybody knows that," Pallas went on. "I mean, everybody knows what a mess the library is. That's why you're here, after all, as a favor for her dad. It's been this way for hundreds of years—that's a haunting. Not monsters, sir. Old Dementia. She's always haunted the library. Like that old song." The song the kids sang. The taunt. "How old is that song, Libby?"

"Hundreds of years." Libby turned to Mr. Gorran. "The library's a real mess, sir."

"'Old Dementia dressed in white, haunts the library day and night...'" said Pallas, "The library's cursed."

"But we're taking care of it," Libby assured him.

"Absolutely," Pallas agreed. "We're getting rid of her very soon. We've brought in an expert."

"Who?" he said, suspicious.

"Athe—" Libby opened her mouth.

Pallas grabbed him, turned him toward the door. Gingerly. "It's confidential. But it's old Dementia did that to you."

He stopped. "It might be..." He turned around on Libby like a rabid dog. "This library isn't fit for this city!" he said angrily. Pallas kept maneuvering Mr. Gorran toward the front door. He wagged his finger in Libby's face. "It's a blight. You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady, for opening it to the public!"

Libby recoiled. "I'm very sorry, sir," she said quietly. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"

"I'm telling your father about this!" When Mr. Gorran hit the front door he was out of there like a bolt, half running down the steps.

"My father? He'll be pretty mad," Libby said, watching him go. "Do you think he believed us?" she said, looking nervous. "About the monsters?"

"I guess so," Pallas said. Thinking about the monsters—monsters, trying to scare them. Could they be lurking in the library, watching them now? That locked door in the basement. Mr. Gorran didn't see who attacked him. Couldn't see who attacked him...

"Did they mean it?" asked Libby. "What they wrote on the note they pinned to his sweater?"

'AVENGE. TONIGHT.'

"I'm pretty sure," said Pallas. The Developer had led them to the truth.

The monsters were coming for them.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"What do we do now?" Libby asked, looking worried. They'd moved to the front of the library.

Pallas stood, staring at the giant hole in the wall.

The book said that the monsters will chase you wherever you go and they can track you down and find you. Running away wouldn't help. They'd find us.

For the first time Pallas thought seriously about what it would mean to actually be Athena's Detective. It hadn't seemed like a real job before and maybe it still didn't.

Still, it was weird. That someone, anyone, wanted her to be anything—her father never cared what she was.

"Pallas?" Libby said, her voice going up. "Are you okay?"

Pallas frowned. "Yeah." She stared at the gaping hole. Remembering the fear. "We'll search the city for flubane. Then we'll read every book you have about monsters."

For the rest of the day Pallas and Libby went to every drakonia in town—no one had more than a pinch of flubane. Then they read up on monsters from the old books in the library, scanning quickly, for anything that said how to kill them. They came up empty.

Exhausted, that night they headed into the Myth and Folklore room to think, Libby so tired her eyes were bloodshot.

"Okay then," said Pallas, ignoring how badly everything had gone. She paced. She'd made some decisions. "When the monsters show up tonight, they're going to be angry."

Libby wiped her face. She pushed up her glasses. "Right," she said.

Pallas noticed her hands were trembling. Not scared trembling, exhausted trembling. She'd been going a long time. They both had. Pallas turned to her. "Really angry."

"I know," Libby said, sniffling.

Pallas had thought about it all day. And a simple truth hung in the air. Only one of them had to die. "You'll have to stay in your room."

"What?" Libby exclaimed, but clammed up with a sharp look from Pallas.

"You said I'm Athena's Detective," Pallas continued, having planned for a bad reaction. In thinking about it today, Pallas had come up with a reason Libby could accept. "And as Athena's Detective I have certain responsibilities. One of those responsibilities, highlighted in the pamphlet given to every new detective, is to keep our client alive." She added the pamphlet thing. Make it seem more official. "I've got to do it myself."

"Pallas, no!"

"When the monsters come I'm going to tell them it was me."

Libby pushed her chair from the table. Stood. "No. This is my library. I'm the head librarian—I'm responsible for what goes on here—"

Pallas turned to face her. She's not listening! "—So what if you're head librarian, Libby! You'll be killed!"

Libby clenched her fists. "So will you! And don't 'so what' me! It's important. I told you. The library is my responsibility."

"This isn't about the stupid library!" Pallas shouted.

Libby looked shocked and hurt.

Pallas stopped, exhaled. "Look, those books all say it—the old ones and the new ones. The monsters follow you wherever you go, they hunt you down and kill you."

"I know that," said Libby. "That's why you need my help to stop them. You can't just say give up, go hide, and make me do it."

Pallas turned away, frustrated. We can't stop them, she thought. "We hurt them. We burned their skin and made them bleed and they're furious. They're going to take revenge. I'll tell them it was me. Just me. And that I did it while you guys slept and maybe they'll leave you alone." She paused, "Libby, someone's probably going to die tonight and I think it would be best if it's just the one person."

Libby didn't say anything. The library sat dead silent around them. Old, dusty, run down. This stupid place! Pallas thought. What did I ever do to end up here? "If you don't want to do it my way, then we should tell the police," Pallas continued, her voice low and hard. "We should tell the police you have monsters and let them blow the library up." She stopped, her voice defeated. "They might get them."

"No," Libby said, her voice strained. "We can't."

"We don't have a choice."

Libby shook her head. Crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving. This library is older than the city, and I'll be dead before they knock it down."

Pallas turned away to think, then turned back and pointed. "Then you have to stay up in your room. Otherwise I'm calling the cops!"

"You hate me don't you!" Libby shouted. "You wish you could blow up the library. You think it's stupid!" She stomped off, but couldn't help herself and turned. "You don't understand because you never cared about anything that mattered! This is MY library! And I can't hide up in my room like a scared little girl while someone ... my best friend gets eaten in it!" She took a deep angry breath, jagged, upset. Her face pink. "And it doesn't even fix the problem!" She stood with her fists clenched, breath ragged.

They stared at each other.

Pallas didn't say anything for a minute. "Then what can we do?"

Libby's expression looked hard. Her face owlish. "I'm NOT going to hide." Libby glared. "Weapons."

"What? The hammer?"

"More weapons."

Pallas scoffed. "Weapons? Libby, it won't work."

Libby looked crestfallen.

*

But they got weapons anyway. A lot. Knives from the kitchen, axes from out back, hammers. Whatever they could find. Pallas didn't like it, but Libby wouldn't have it any other way. They stuck together.

That evening was the slowest Pallas ever had in her life. The two bites of dry dinner she got down nearly choked her. Ms. Sternly was quite surprised to hear that Libby had hired midnight workmen to come in and fix the hole in the wall, the stairs. "I got a deal, since they work, you know, at night," Libby said, with a casual reach for pie. Pallas rolled her eyes but Ms. Sternly actually believed it. She claimed it was a wonderful idea.

Libby ate a forkful of firefruit pie, swallowing dryly. "There may be shouting and some screams but those are just the saws," she added.

Pallas thought Ms. Sternly would say something for sure, but maybe she'd been around Pallas' dad too much, because she just said "Fine, fine..." sounding preoccupied, and suddenly went on about how she'd be up in her room the entire night and shouldn't be disturbed.

Pallas' dad said the same thing, that he'd sleep through anything. Pallas didn't question her luck. When they'd said their goodnights, Pallas and Libby readied themselves for the long night.

"Monsters are horrible," Libby muttered. They sat on the dark stairs, waiting. "Monsters are terrible. I hate monsters. Why do they have to exist?"

"Because rotten things exist," Pallas said, eying her blade. Pallas wished she had that big club too, but Ms. Sternly had it in her room.

"Yeah, but the gods could do something about it," said Libby. "I don't see why they don't give all of us weapons to kill off every monster we can find."

Pallas thought of the ugly statues of people suffering and that god with a half-snake body. Athena had seemed nice enough, but she'd stuck Pallas here. Because the gods are monsters too, Pallas thought. They toyed with people like mice. "Why can't Athena just get rid of the monsters for us? She's a god."

Libby shook her head. Absently turning a very large, brutish hammer from the toolshed out back. "I don't know. Did you know that gods can't read thoughts if you don't want them to? Or find secrets you keep from them."

"They can't?"

Libby shook her head. "Nope," she said. "People have a right to privacy—even from them. And people have a right to do whatever they want. Even bad things. So maybe monsters are the same way. They can hide and do bad things. It's up to us to put it right." She hesitated, looking down. "That's why Athena has a detective. For stuff like that. Same way she has heroes. Hey Pallas, if we get out of this alive, are you going to officially take the job? I think there's a ceremony for it."

Pallas scoffed. "No." No way. Why would she want a scary, dangerous job that probably turned you batty? She'd had enough of helping.

"Oh," Libby said softly. "Does that mean you're quitting after the first case?" She looked down. "I think Athena made a really good choice for her detective."

Pallas didn't say anything. But it made her uncomfortable. Truthfully? She'd never helped anyone before. Except her dad. And that didn't count. Not compared to helping a person she hadn't known a week ago, when she might get killed on top of it.

Sitting there in the dark, clutching a knife and a hammer, waiting to defend, not just people, but this place. All these dusty old books. It felt like what other people did, not her. Like police and firemen.

It felt like a job.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It happened fast. Too fast.

First came the fear.

Pallas looked down the stairs.

A blur.

Figures rushing in the dark.

Heart beating hard.

Pallas gasped and brandished her knife as a black-cloaked figure rushed up the stairs. Libby screamed behind her. Pallas heard something slam against the back wall of the corridor. She hoped it was the giant hammer and not Libby.

A fast knock to Pallas' wrist sent the knife flying out of her hand and shoved her stumbling back down the long hall.

Suddenly Pallas faced the corridor behind her. Staring as the panel that led to her dad's room swung open. She watched, numb with fear, her dad come out of his room. At what he looked like, how scary, her throat got tight and she couldn't breathe. His face! Horrible!

Her dad, caught in mid laugh. Or mid scream, his face frozen in an eerie mask. The gorgon. She did it. Pallas couldn't think. Couldn't scream. A woman in a black gown, writhing shadows in the dark crowning her head, glided out beside Pallas' dad. The woman faced Connell, her back to Pallas, writhing and hissing around the back of her head. The gorgon appeared to float, her hand on his shoulder, and he floated, a stone statue. Dead. Pallas struggled. Fear welling, building inside her throat. She pushed everything inside her to get the word out. "Dad!" she cried.

Bony hands gripped her shoulders. She couldn't see it but knew it was the fearghal. Fear was winding a rope around her. It wound tighter and tighter. She heard the heavy footsteps. The croc stomped past, his tail slamming the wall. Wood splintered. The croc turned to Pallas' dad, tiny hands wriggling. He pivoted on one foot and swung his tail, and, like kicking a football, punted her dad down the hallway. Her dad knocked Pallas' elbow as he hurtled past and down the stairs.

CRASH! Her dad shattered. Tiny pieces flew everywhere. I'll never be able to put him back together! Pallas thought. "No!" she whimpered. The gorgon floated over and leered, beaming with approval. Pallas stared at her face. Big, bloodshot eyes. Huge grin. Someone was laughing hysterically. Pallas tried to look away but she felt herself stiffen. She couldn't move! The gorgon's snakes writhed. "Face me, harder," she hissed. Anger lanced up Pallas' spine, warring with her terror. Everything this rotten city, this rotten library, these rotten monsters had done! Useless monsters who didn't do anything but scare and kill people!

Pallas glared into her eyes. "Who cares. Go ahead!" she spat out, feeling her mouth stiffen. The gorgon grinned over sharp bloody teeth. Pallas felt it, she stiffened all along her body; fingers and toes, arms and legs, and then her eyes froze, and she was all stone. And the big lizard monster was coming up behind the gorgon, with its giant tail thrashing. She'd be smashed by that tail. Splintered to bits. Pallas knew it was coming. She couldn't close her eyes. Her dad dead. Libby! she thought. The croc's giant mouth gaped in a toothy grin. She felt its breath. It roared. It lashed, and she shattered. She felt herself, pieces scattered all over the floor.

Looking down at her, laughing in their beautiful clothes, rippling phantoms, were all the rich girls she'd ever seen in her life; sneering at her with their perfect hair, dangling shiny keys to their rich dads' cars, brushing past her at endless schools. She screamed.

A strong hand grabbed her, hefting her like a kitten. She kicked at the air. I can move!

The hallway came back. Where's Libby? Pallas' heart raced, terror pooling. But she could move. Everything she'd felt, turning to stone, breaking. It wasn't real! She thought of her dad. Libby! Are they okay?

But then the thing was in front of her.

The fearghal shoved her against the wall with pale, bony fingers, gripping like iron. Pallas finally saw him, his pale face like soft, movable bone, shrouded in the folds of a black cloak. He spoke with sharp force. "Is that what you think? Rotten, useless monsters who scare you? Things you can burn and hurt? Who cares if their blood runs and their screams fill the night! They're just monsters."

The fearghal shook her. "Do you know what we do for this city?" he snapped. "If it weren't for us monsters keeping everyone out of the forest, the fighting from the Warlands would pour through the forest and destroy the city!" He shook her harder. "These fools don't remember war! Every day we protect this city and what do we get? Insults. Threats if we visit!" Pallas struggled. His bony face got closer. "This city hates us," the fearghal said, low. "They want to get rid of us, just like you. If we come into the city they blow up anything we've touched. Like we're filthy monsters they can treat like dirt!" He shook Pallas until her teeth chattered. She tried to speak but nothing came out. White hot fear licked her insides.

The fearghal bore down. She could see his face clearer beneath the folds of his dark cloak. The emptiness, smoky whiteness forming, unforming, empty eye sockets, skull teeth. Something dead but far worse. It leered. Pulled Pallas closer. She could hardly breathe. His voice, eerily conversational. "The night you poured the flubane on us? I had to pull Croc back or he would have come up here and killed you. He was in a lot of pain!" He shook her again.

Pallas suddenly remembered hearing whispering that night. First the thumping of big feet up the stairs, then how it stopped, then she heard whispered arguing, and then the footsteps retreating.

The fearghal, cloaked and floating, continued, "I should drive you insane and keep you alive for months until I'm good and ready to see you die for what you did, you insensitive little brat. I should have you pull your own guts out—" he stopped. "But I won't." He paused. "Because I'm a monster," he finished. "Now the three of us, Croc, Medusa and me, we're staying, and we'll go for our evening strolls, unmolested! Until we leave. Got it?"

Pallas didn't say anything.

The fearghal gave one good shake. "I said, 'Got it!'"

"Ye—yes... sir."

His grip loosened.

He let go of her in disgust. "Some vision. Your little friends laughing at you. You call that a deepest fear? —that's what you're afraid of? Pathetic. You don't know the first thing about being an outcast." He dusted his bony hands like she'd been dirty. "And by the way, all that stuff about your father? What are you, a toddler? Even more pathetic. A child's terror. Real fear is something you don't know. Don't make me teach you," he finished and turned, drifting down the stairs, fear ebbing as he left.

Pallas saw Libby down the hall, pinned by the gorgon. The gorgon had her arm against Libby's throat, keeping her quiet. Her snakes sat flat on her head, not writhing like Pallas had seen them in her vision. The gorgon stared at Libby, and Libby stared back, eyes wide. Libby swallowed, dryly—which meant she hadn't been turned to stone.

Down the hall, by her room, was the croc, giant and fierce. The croc had a little hand on the door, and had been watching. Pallas didn't know what a giant croc monster was supposed to look like, but this one looked disappointed. He snorted and headed toward her. Pallas squished against the wall as he passed and tried not to look in his eyes. He brushed her with his leathery skin and thudded down the stairs.

The gorgon let Libby go and glided down the stairs after him, brushing by Pallas, purposely ignoring her.

Libby crumpled to a heap, exhausted.

Pallas came over. Her legs trembled like she'd run a mile. "You okay?"

Libby nodded. "Yeah, you?"

"I'm okay." Pallas sat against the wall.

"What happened? You were sort of crying and talking to yourself."

"Nothing." Pallas said. She paused and they both sat there, a little stunned they'd survived. Finally Pallas spoke up. "The gorgon caught you. Why do you think you weren't turned to stone?"

"I don't know," said Libby.

"You stared right at her."

"I know. I tried not to but I couldn't help myself."

"Like she made you stare into her eyes?"

"No." Libby sounded embarrassed. "I just couldn't help it."

"Oh." They didn't say anything for a while. Then Pallas looked over. "Did you hear what he said?"

Libby paused. "Yeah. He sounded really mad."

He had good reason to be mad, Pallas thought. "We made a big mistake."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next morning Pallas woke early, before Libby, after a restless sleep. Dressing in Libby's old clothes, she lit a small lamp and made her way downstairs into the silent library. Dawn had crept into the sky, but the library was still dark and she needed the lamp to see.

Padding barefoot across creaky wooden floors, Pallas made her way to the Myth and Folklore room. She went up the spiral stairs and onto the rickety balcony that complained underfoot as she walked along it. Not looking down, Pallas reached the section of books she wanted.

She pulled down a stack of them, as many as she could carry, and gingerly made her way back along the balcony and down the dizzying stairs. She thunked the books onto a desk, went back for more, and when she got back with more books, plunked them down, pulled out a chair, and sat down for a long read.

She was still there when Libby came down hours later, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Libby pushed her glasses up. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," said Pallas, head down.

"I know that." Libby came over and sat with a heavy thump. She stretched her arms over her head, a yawn building. "What are you reading? I'm tired," she said through her yawn, letting her arms drop. She leaned on the table, dragged a book over. "Why are you reading about monsters? That's all done. You heard the one that caught you. Leave them alone, they'll leave us alone. Me, I'm through with it. Let them stomp around at night. As long as no one knows. Do you think they really help the city like they said?"

Pallas didn't say anything. She'd had out every old fable she could on the three monsters. Most of the stories were brutal like the Flubane Fool, but in some of them, looking at them in a new light, it seemed fair that the monsters fought back. Before, Pallas had been trying to figure out the best way to kill the monsters, but reading the stories now, instead of skimming them, she could see that other stories were of less grisly encounters.

And a lot of them involved playing cards.

"Pallas. Come on, it's over." Libby plunked her head on her outstretched arms, turned to face Pallas. "They said they'd leave... eventually. They're not going to bother us if we don't bother them."

"Sure," Pallas said, not looking up. "It all worked out great." She turned a page.

Libby exhaled, leaning back and giving up. Pallas heard her leave.

Libby came back five minutes later eating a breakfast roll. A plate clinked down on the table.

"I brought you one," said Libby. Libby began reading a tear sheet; a kind of newspaper that got pinned around the city. "Looks like a nice day, too. Are you going to eat your roll or can I?"

Pallas looked up. Libby recoiled a bit from that look.

"Does it bother you at all that the monsters protect the city but everyone treats them like they should be killed?"

Libby shrugged. "Nobody's heard from the Warlands for years."

"What do you know about the Warlands?"

"Nothing. They're more like a myth."

"Nobody talks about them?"

"Why should they?"

"And you're not worried about who lives in the Warlands? Attacking the city, I mean."

"No."

"So..."

"So...?"

"Don't you think that's the point?" said Pallas. "Nobody worries about the Warlands because they don't have to, on account of the monsters. I don't know why they've come here, but it's not to hurt any of us. And I made a stupid mistake. I hurt them." She stopped. "We hurt them," she said. "Don't you feel any responsibility for that?"

"But what can we do?" Libby exclaimed. "They asked us to just leave them alone."

"I know," Pallas said.

"Then why do you want to go and bother them again? Why won't you leave it alone?"

"Because it's not fair! We treated them just like this whole city treats them. They didn't do anything to us—"

"They ate all the food!" Libby exclaimed, her face going pink. "And wrecked the library. And scared us!"

Pallas went back to her book. "Yeah, but they couldn't help doing any of those things."

"But they're monsters! What are you going to do? Invite them for tea?"

Pallas stared at her, then spoke low. "You heard what they said. There's something really bad beyond the Baleful Forest that could destroy your city and all the people in it if it got past the forest. But it can't because of the monsters. The monsters protect the city from war, from danger. But no one knows about it. This whole city hates them. The city wants them dead. They'd be glad to hurt them much worse than we did. They'd be happy to blow them up. But the monsters help the city. They protect the city. And what do they get for it?" Pallas leaned forward. "Why doesn't the city know that the monsters protect them? Why didn't you know that? Or the drakonia? Why don't you know that you shouldn't hurt what protects you, even if it's scary!" Pallas leaned back. Crossed her arms. She was really upset, and she didn't know why. But what they'd done had been really wrong. And the whole city was as wrong as they were. Worse. Pallas wasn't even from here, and she'd been as bad as them.

"No one would believe us if we told them that the monsters protected the city," Libby said.

"I think we should apologize to them... and make up with them."

"How?" Libby stammered. "You can't really want to—"

"They like to play cards. I think we should invite them to cards and tea."

"But that's crazy!" Libby exclaimed.

Pallas slammed her fist down. "No it's not!"

"Every story we've read about them has them playing cards with whoever they finally kill at the end!"

"Because they were in a fight with them!" Pallas stopped. "We'll apologize so they won't kill us. Besides, that's just in stories."

"That's... I'm... I won't." Libby shook her head.

"Look, they'd have killed us by now if they'd wanted to," Pallas continued. "The three of them last night, we really hurt them and they didn't hurt us back. That means that all the stories, from the old books to the new, are wrong. They're not monsters because they're strong, even dangerous." She shut the book under her elbow. "They're monsters because they protect the city. And they're treated badly by this city, and I treated them just like anyone here would." She thought about school, moving from place to place, the phantom girls, leering, laughing. She was embarrassed that had been her big fear. "I'm not going to do that anymore."

Pallas got hold of a piece of paper, sat down, and started writing:

*

Dear monsters,

We're very sorry to have hurt you. Please join us for tea and card games in the...

*

"What are you doing?" Libby said.

"Writing a note to the monsters."

*

...in the...

*

Pallas looked over. "Where would be the best place to have tea with the monsters?"

Libby huffed. "I'm not telling."

"Come on Libby, I'm doing this. Are you with me?"

Libby stopped. "Fine. I guess the pink reading room. It's small, but cozy and has pretty decorations. And it's in better shape than the bigger rooms. So I guess that's our nicest room."

"Good," Pallas said.

*

...in the pink reading room. Ten o'clock.

Best wishes,

Pallas...

*

Pallas looked up. "Can I put your name?"

Libby didn't say anything.

*

...Pallas and Libby, she finished.

*

Pallas folded the note and stood.

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Where are we putting it?" Libby asked.

They stood in front of the open bookshelf. Pallas looked into the gloom. "We'll slip it under the door in the basement."

"You mean downstairs? Where they are?" Libby said, looking down, wary.

"Come on," Pallas said, going in.

They made their way downstairs. If the monsters caught them down here they'd think she and Libby were attacking. This is the right thing to do, Pallas told herself.

The tunnel smelled dank. Libby had taken a small lamp, but dropped it and it blew out. Libby wanted to go back, but Pallas wanted to keep going. "We know the way," she whispered in the dark. She remembered the gash on the door. Probably made by a claw. She'd know it when she felt it. "It won't take long." Her feet echoed on stone floor. To feel her way in the dark, Pallas kept a hand on the wall, passing door after locked door. Every time the wall indented around a door, Pallas had an instant of fear that the door was open and something would reach out and grab her. But all the doors are locked, she told herself.

Thud! Pallas' foot kicked something hard and she jumped. They'd bumped into the end of the corridor and hadn't yet found the door the monsters had come out of.

"Shh! We have to go back. I went too far." Pallas' heart raced. She could hear her friend's breathing. She went back to the last door and touched it. There it is. The deep groove of a claw mark.

Pallas crouched. Her knee touched cold stone. She slipped the note under. "There, it's done." She stood up quickly.

But exactly what she had done, she and Libby would know soon enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"We need the good stuff. We want it to look nice," Pallas said. Evening had come on. In the note, Pallas had written that the tea party would be for ten o'clock that evening. Would the monsters be on time? Would they show? Would they be eaten? Pallas wanted to do her best not to be eaten.

Libby had gotten a thick key from the kitchen and opened a sideboard snuggled between bookshelves. "These are my grandmother's good napkins."

"And the plates?"

Libby crouched down to where there were attractive ceramics. "They're chipped, and look, this plate's broke clean through." Libby held the two pieces, putting them together and apart like a jigsaw.

Pallas and Libby found an old, pale pink tablecloth and unfolded it on the table. There was a stain near the center but they could cover that up with a vase of flowers.

In the cupboard they found silverware, the thick and heavy kind that made it look expensive. Pallas turned a fork in her hand. "Looks tarnished. Do you think they'll mind?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, put them aside and we'll scrub them or something. Where's the rest of the stuff?"

"Over here," said Libby.

Libby went to a glass curio cabinet nestled in a corner of the snug room. Turning the knob she opened the glass doors, which had been so dingy that Pallas hadn't noticed the tea set inside.

Libby stretched up on her toes and with two hands carefully took down the teapot. She put it down on the sideboard next to the cabinet.

"That's really nice," Pallas said.

Libby took out the rest of the old tea set. It was lovely, a thin ceramic made of pale yellow with red firefruit painted on it. And there were firefruit on the cups, and on the inside so that when you drank down, a painted firefruit was revealed on the bottom. The whole thing had a warm, fiery look to it.

Pallas placed them all carefully.

"I hope the monsters don't break them," Libby mumbled to herself. "They were my grandmother's."

Pallas stopped across the small table. "Do you really mind? Because they're monsters, and they might break things. But I want to make a good impression. I want them to know that we trust them and we're really sorry." Pallas wanted to make sure, more than ever now, that the monsters forgave them.

"No it's okay. Even if they break them." Libby wobbled a cup on its saucer.

"Did you know your grandmother well?" Pallas asked, arranging.

"Yeah," Libby said, placing the small plates. "I used to visit her a lot. Grandma Bibbly wouldn't have gotten into this mess. She didn't like monsters either, but she wouldn't have done what we did. She'd have found another way."

After they'd finished preparing the tearoom, they ran upstairs to change into nicer clothes. Pallas wore a dress of Libby's that she picked out herself. A striped one like a long t-shirt. Libby saw what Pallas picked and picked another striped t-shirt dress but this one had black and white stripes. Pallas almost said something. It was embarrassing to wear practically the same dress. But she didn't. They each picked a belt and came downstairs. It was only nine thirty at night, but the library was quiet, her dad and Ms. Sternly nowhere in sight.

Pallas opened the door to the pink room and took a look around at what she and Libby had prepared.

The teapot rested in the center of the table, the plates and cups and saucers, everything was ready. They'd dusted the pink reading room and lit a fire in the fire alcove. The room was intimate, cozy, and the table would have them practically bumping knees. She hoped her and Libby could handle sitting so close to a fear monster and a gorgon, and she hoped that the croc could fit through the door and onto a chair. "I guess the tea set should be taken into the kitchen, for when we make the tea. But we'll leave the place for it open. Maybe we should get a bigger chair for the croc?" Pallas asked, clutching her hands nervously. It felt like a real party now that she had the dress on. At least, what she thought a real tea party would be like from the movies.

"Maybe just in case," Libby said, sounding nervous too. They hurried out, taking the tea set to the kitchen. Then they dragged a large armchair from another room. Pallas didn't think it was going to fit, but they made it.

"How will he sit with his tail?" Libby asked, sounding worried.

Pallas ran her hand over the back. "There's this gap along the back, he can stick it through there. Like a girl puts her ponytail through a baseball cap."

"Through a what?"

"Never mind," Pallas said. Her heart had begun to beat in heavy thumps against her chest. It was nearly time. "I hope they like it," she said, looking around to see if there was anything else they should do.

Warm wooden bookshelves and a dusky pink rug, side tables and cabinets sprinkled around, a couch along the wall. They'd brought a tea table into the room, made of heavy old wood.

"Do you think they'll show up?" Libby asked, sitting down to wait.

"I don't know." Pallas sat, smoothing her dress under her.

Libby and Pallas had been to market that day, and used the Developer's card. Pallas could hardly believe the card still worked.

They'd bought cake, two kinds, and had an assortment of cookies ready on a plate, some expensive tea that Libby said she knew how to brew. They'd make the tea when the monsters got there, so it wouldn't be cold. They'd thought of everything—

"The cards!" Pallas exclaimed. She rushed up to her room and grabbed the pack they'd bought on their way home from the market. She ran back into the room, breathless, and put the pack of cards down on the center of the table. She sat. "We're ready."

Now all they had to do was wait.

*

Pallas drummed her fingers on the tea table. Libby stared at the clock and adjusted her dress. Pallas glanced at the clock on the wall again. The monsters were late.

"Do you think they're going to come?" Libby asked.

Pallas shrugged.

*

An hour later.

Pallas drummed her fingers on the table. Libby tapped her foot. Libby reached for a cookie.

Pallas shivered, then stood up quickly.

Libby grabbed her napkin and squeezed.

Pallas faced the doorway.

Libby stood slowly and backed away. Pallas shot her a look and whispered under her breath, "Get back here!" Libby came back to the table and sat down quietly.

Pallas swallowed. What if that note insulted the monsters?

The room shook with booming footsteps. Pallas glanced instinctively to the other exits in case they had to run. She rubbed her palms together to dry the sweat from them.

A shadow appeared, crossed the doorway. A head peeked in.

Libby gasped.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A giant nose, the tip, appeared around the doorway. The giant nostrils opened, and sniffed loudly. Vanished back around. Pallas heard whispering.

A hooded head appeared, looked around sharply, glaring. Then up at the doorframe as though looking for a barrel of flubane.

Pallas rubbed her hands together in front of her and plastered a tight smile rigidly on her face. Her heart raced.

The hooded head disappeared again, and then the whole body glided through. The fearghal moved like he was on a dark cloud. He approached the table.

Sweat sprang up on Pallas' brow. The sensation of fear was almost overwhelming. Libby got up, knocking her chair over and backed away.

Pallas forced herself to step forward. She tried to smile through the atmosphere of sheer terror. "Hi," she said pleasantly, her voice shaking. She gestured with a trembling hand. "We're very glad you could come sit?" Nervous, she'd run the words together and they'd sounded weird.

The fearghal writhed in a non-existent breeze and glared at her, pale and insulted looking under his hood. "Don't mind if I do," he said finally. Pallas had gestured to the middle chair, hoping the fear inducing monster might sit between the other two monsters. Instead he settled into the chair next to Pallas.

"You've met Medusa," said the fearghal. "And Croc. You may call me Fearghal. Or Fear."

The gorgon was coming up behind the fearghal and behind her, the giant croc—that was the nose they'd seen.

Medusa smiled coldly, her head tilting, her snakes settled down but restless on her head. "Where shall I sit?" she said with an air of cold pleasantness.

"Snorgle..." the Croc pushed past her, banging her shoulder, and took a seat with an alarming crunch.

Medusa rubbed her shoulder and glared at him. "Oaf," she muttered and sat.

Croc snorted disdainfully and took a look at what was on the table. His tiny hands wiggling, he leaned his whole body forward, grunted, and reached the cookies. He snatched one.

Fear looked at Pallas expectantly. "Are you sitting with us?" he said, "Or are we having tea alone?"

"Oh, sure." Pallas' hand gripped the back of her chair, knuckles white. "Right," she said, embarrassed. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at that table. A giant upright gator, a fearghal and a medusa. She eased into her seat.

The fearghal shifted like smoke in his chair. "Where's the tea?"

"The huh? Oh! The tea! Libby!"

"I'll get it!" Libby screamed and ran out of the room.

I hope she comes back, Pallas thought. She laughed a little, to excuse Libby. It died in the awkward silence.

"Well, isn't this nice," said Medusa after a while.

Croc made an ambiguous grunt.

"Um hm," said the fearghal.

Pallas clasped her hands together so they wouldn't shake, and put them on the table. She cleared her throat, tapped her foot. Turned to look behind her to the doorway. "Libby should be back..." her voice trailed off.

Crash!

Pallas jumped, stifling a scream; she covered it with a quick cough. Moments later, down the hall, they heard a rattling that grew steadily closer.

Libby appeared, tea tray trembling between her hands. She had sweat on her forehead. "Here's the tea!" she croaked.

Libby leaned over next to Pallas, putting the tray down. If she spills on one of them! Pallas thought, watching the delicate operation. Libby's glasses slid to the end of her nose and nearly fell off. But then the tea tray was settled on the table. "I dropped the sugar," she whispered.

"I prefer honey. Shall I pour?" said the fearghal.

Everyone nodded, Croc grunting.

The fearghal lifted the teapot, his hand grown substantial to do so, and poured with surprising, and slightly disturbing, speed.

Needing something to do, Pallas grabbed a plate. "Cookies?" she said, swinging them too fast, a cookie flew into Fear's lap.

He shot up from his chair and glared at her. Something in his eyes made Pallas recoil. But after a moment he wiped the crumbs off his cape and sat down. "That's all right," he said, his voice like silk hardened into a blade edge.

Everyone took the tea and plates of cookies and cakes and passed them from hand to hand. Finally Pallas, Libby and the three monsters had full plates, piled alarmingly high, and steaming cups of tea with lots of milk and honey.

Pallas took a deep breath. "Thanks for showing up," she said. "Me and Libby, we wanted to apologize for what we did the other day. See, we didn't know, all you do, and... Well, it's just, we're sorry. Right Libby?" Pallas looked to Libby hopefully.

Libby had a cookie half stuffed in her mouth. She swallowed dryly, then nodded. "We're really sorry," she said through some crumbs.

"I mean, no one knows what you do for the city," Pallas went on, "and that's not fair, right Libby?"

"Right," said Libby. She lifted her teacup. "We think they should know."

The monsters stared at Libby. They stared at Pallas.

They're going to eat us, Pallas thought, and she looked at the fear monster and got the feeling he knew what had crossed her mind.

"Did you tell that to anyone?" Fear asked nonchalantly. "That we protect the city?"

Medusa scowled.

Pallas shook her head. "No, no! I mean, we'd never do that. Not unless you wanted us to. Besides who would..." She looked around at their faces. "...believe us," she finished reluctantly.

They didn't say anything for a moment. In the silence, Medusa's snakes hissed in their sleep.

Finally Medusa took another cookie, a different kind, now that she'd finished the ones she must have liked. "Well, it doesn't matter what people believe. It's good that you didn't tell anyone. We can't have that getting around."

"Why?" asked Libby.

The fear monster forked another bit of cake. "This is lovely cake, did you get it at the Market?"

"No," Pallas said, "we got it at the bakery on Flat Street." Why did he change the subject?

"It's very good," he said and the bite of cake vanished behind his smoky mouth. "I'll have to remember where you bought it." When he said it, he didn't sound like he had any food in his mouth. Like the piece of cake had slipped into a bottomless void.

"Can I..." Libby began.

Pallas' nerves shot up.

"Can I ask a question?" Libby asked, looking to the forest gorgon.

Please don't ask about the city's protection again, Pallas thought. It didn't seem like something the monsters wanted to discuss.

Medusa raised her eyebrows. "I suppose, little girl."

"It's Libby."

Medusa smiled, her fangs bared. Pallas couldn't tell if that was a kindly smile or a 'you'd look great in marble' smile. "Libby," Medusa corrected herself.

"How come we don't, uh... turn to stone when we look at you?"

Medusa's brows shot up, and she looked affronted. She turned to the fearghal with an expression that said 'See? They are rotten.'

"I mean, maybe you don't turn people to stone," Pallas said quickly. "People get a lot of stupid notions."

"They really do." Medusa's snakes began to writhe, unsettled.

Fear leaned forward... and took a cookie. His cloak brushed Pallas' arm. At the touch a scream popped into her throat like a surprising hiccup. But she stopped it, even if her eyes widened a little. He spoke up beside her. "Gorgolina only turns people to stone when her snakes are in the upright position."

"I thought everyone knew that," said Medusa, her snakes growing restless, hissing and beginning to rise up.

"Gorgolina?" Libby asked.

"That's my given name. Medusa is an honorific," said Medusa.

Was that a stiffness in her limbs Pallas was feeling?

"Snorgle!" Croc said sharply.

Pallas and Libby jumped. Libby cupped her hand over her mouth, muffling a tearful cry.

Medusa snapped around to glare at Croc, but her hair flattened out, the snakes settling down into an intricately interweaved sort of flat hairdo.

"Croc is right," said Fear. "We're guests." He gestured with a bony hand. "They invited us. Let's not cause a fuss..." He smiled and something in it made Pallas uneasy. "It would be impolite at a tea party."

"Snorgle," Croc said, in a kind of definite agreement. Croc leaned his whole body forward, making Libby, who sat across the table, dodge his snout. When he sat back up, Pallas saw that his tiny hand had snatched another piece of cake.

"We have cards, after tea and cakes," Pallas said. "I hope you can stay for a game."

Libby nodded. "Yeah, I don't know what kinds of card games monsters play..."

They looked a little affronted at that.

"But we're willing to learn!" Pallas said quickly. "I'm not from here, so I won't know any of the games, and I'd like to learn."

"Yeah," said Libby.

Fear took another wandful of honey and drizzled it over his cake. "You are the new head librarian?" he asked Libby.

"That's me," Libby said, nervously.

He put his black draped elbows on the table and folded his bony hands. "How's that going?"

For a second Libby looked like she'd just gotten the worst question that could have been asked. Then she smiled and laughed to cover it up. "It's great! Just great. The place has really turned around. I mean, we've cleaned some rooms, and I'm sure we'll get a patron soon..."

"Our being here hasn't made it hard for you?" asked Fear.

"Oh no! No..." Libby insisted. She frowned a little. "Only the walls, here and there..." She looked quickly to Croc. "But that's not your fault! This place has a lot of sharp corners..." her voice trailed off and she looked down.

Croc made a noncommittal snuffling noise and ate his cake.

"We have made it difficult for you," said Fear. "Well, we'll only be here a short while. And then we'll leave and won't bother you again. You don't need to do this..." he gestured to the heaped leftover cakes and cookies, "for us again. I know monsters are unpleasant and frightening to humans. Thank you for the tea and cakes, we'll skip the cards," he made to stand.

Pallas stood too. "Oh no, won't you please stay?"

He stopped, surprised.

Pallas didn't know what to say for a second. "It's true, you scare us some, but that doesn't mean we don't like you. It's okay to be scared, sometimes," she said. "I mean, it's fun. As long as nobody gets hurt." She paused. "Won't you please stay for cards?" She hesitated. "I got us to the draconia shop where we looked up the flu—that stupid powder," she looked at Croc and the others, "and I didn't think about how you'd never hurt us." She paused, feeling rotten. "It was really wrong," she said. "And I'm sorry."

"We both are. Really sorry," Libby said.

Pallas looked down, not wanting to meet their eyes. It didn't matter if they were monsters.

A bony hand clawed her shoulder, and she jumped. It was Fear.

The bony hand squeezed, then was removed.

A fork clanked against a plate. "Well, let's play cards," said Medusa. "I haven't had a good game of humans—I mean with humans, for ages."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

'Humans' was a lot like Go Fish, only there was a pot, like in poker, and whoever won got their pick of the humans that had been 'bet' in the game.

"It's just for fun," Medusa said with a toothy smile. "Maybe we should play in teams?" she said brightly. "Libby, I want you on my side, I'm trying to win you."

"Okay," Libby enthused. She scudged her chair closer to Medusa.

"I'll take Pallas," said Fear, and hearing her name on his ghostly lips sent a chill up her spine. "Is that all right?"

"Sure..." said Pallas.

"Snorgle?" said Croc, sounding put out. His little hands spread in a 'what-am-I?'

"You play alone," Medusa said.

Croc blew a puff of breath. With a huge, full body lean over the table, Croc grabbed the cards. He shuffled, fanning the cards between his tiny hands and doing all sorts of tricks with them like a pro. He whipped the cards out, dealing fast. His giant head tilted to stare at his own cards with one eye, then he whipped a five onto the pile like a frisbee.

"Wow," said Libby. "You're really good at cards, you must play a lot."

"Snorgle," he said in a low, satisfied voice. He quickly tilted his giant head to stare at his cards with one eye again.

"He says, 'Not as often as he'd like,'" Medusa said, fanning out the cards in her elegant fingers. "Come closer, Libby," she crooned. "You can't see our hand."

Libby leaned closer to Medusa. "How can you understand him?"

"It's all in the tone," Medusa said, organizing their cards. "This one, I think." She glanced at Libby, who nodded.

Medusa leaned forward, serious, eyes intent on Fear.

"Two."

Fear handed it to her with an annoyed flick of the wrist.

Medusa snatched it and slammed the pair down. "Nine."

He flung the card at her.

Snatch! Slam. "Five!"

The card whipped at her. Snatch! Slam.

Pallas and Libby looked at each other.

The play went on for an hour. Fierce, card slamming. Then abruptly, stopped.

Fear frowned to himself, thinking. He stood. "A draw."

"Too bad," said Medusa, getting up.

Croc rose.

Pallas stood. "Uh, won't you all come again?"

They looked at her like she'd grown a spare head.

"When?" asked Fear.

"...Tomorrow?"

Fear nodded. "Good night, little girls."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pallas awoke to shouting, the sun high in the sky. Libby hurried in, over to the window, with a grim expression. Pallas came up beside her.

For a moment they watched, in numb surprise.

They hurried down the stairs.

"EVACUATE THE LIBRARY! EVACUATE THE LIBRARY!" A voice boomed.

"The Developer is responsible for this," Pallas said, hurrying to the window. "I'd bet my last grilled cheese on it."

To Pallas' surprise she felt a sudden chill, terror rising. But not from what she saw in the window. Behind her.

Libby turned, rubbing her arms. "They're awake?"

Fear, Medusa and Croc came out from various directions, drifting down stairs, stomping in from the Myth and Folklore room, heading in from the kitchen. They had serious faces.

Fear drifted to the window. "I hope it's not what I think it is."

Medusa and Croc took another window to peek out of. Medusa frowned and shook her head, snakes writhing, waking. "Oh dear."

A large crowd had gathered. Behind the rows of police.

"There's Ms. Sternly!" Libby exclaimed, poking the glass of the window. "She must have gone out early for breakfast and got caught behind the police lines."

Pallas looked out, studying the crowd. She found her. Ms. Sternly had a paper in one hand and a cinnamon bun gripped in the other. While not dropping either, she was struggling to get through. "And my dad!" Pallas exclaimed, watching as he appeared behind Ms. Sternly, shouting at the officer.

"Look! They arrested her!" said Libby.

"And my dad!" said Pallas.

Ms. Sternly struggled, all arms and legs. Her dad was trying to talk to the officer who held him.

A policeman gestured at the library. Another policeman nodded and hurried forward. Pallas saw the officer racing up the steps. "Make sure it's locked!" Pallas shouted and Libby, who was closest, ran to the door. Locked it and threw a heavy bar of wood across it.

Pallas felt sure the Developer had called the police on them. But why would the Developer tell the police about the monsters? Pallas wondered. When he hadn't before? Why risk blowing it up? "It's a bluff," Pallas said. "I still think he wants something he can't get to." Unless the Developer discovered they'd hosted a tea party for monsters. But how could he have learned so quickly? If his plan to make Libby so afraid that she'd sell the library had just taken a huge step backward— Maybe a man like the Developer got tired of waiting. "Uh-oh."

The policeman banged hard. "Out! Out! This library has been condemned on suspicion of monsters! We're ordering it evacuated at once!"

"What are we going to do?" Libby exclaimed.

Glass shattered in the window next to Pallas', making her jump.

"They're coming in!" Libby said, stepping back, terrified.

Through the broken glass, a hand fumbled for the window lock.

Fear floated past Libby, reached out and grasped the groping hand by the wrist.

The policeman screamed, a hollow, terror stricken sound, and the hand vanished back out the window.

"That will make him think twice," said Fear, drifting back.

Officers began taking things out of the back of a big cart.

"What are they doing?" Pallas asked. "Those look like bombs."

"Bombs?" Libby said softly. She stood at the window, Medusa behind her, peering out with her hands on Libby's shoulders. "You mean they're going to go through with it?"

Despite the yard all around the library, it looked to Pallas like other houses and shops could get hit with flying debris, but maybe the police didn't care.

At least her dad got arrested. She felt glad for that.

Pallas glared out the window. She heard rustling, too close to the window, and jumped. Just below her a police officer had knelt down. He had a glass container of golden-reddish powder with a rope sticking out, up against the library wall, nestling it in, pulling away the dirt. She glanced around outside; police were crawling up to the library like ants, placing bombs.

Libby leaned back from her window. "They're putting bombs all around," she whispered. "A lot of them," she said, worried. "There's not going to be anything left when it blows."

Pallas looked and saw another cart of bombs and the police filing away, toward the back of the library, their arms weighed down with the glass bombs.

"They're going to blow us sky high!" Libby exclaimed. She cried out and put her hands over her mouth. Medusa hugged her. Smoothing Libby's hair.

"In the window!" someone in the crowd cried. "Holding a girl hostage! A MONSTER." Medusa stepped out of view.

"There's one there! A giant!" cried another. Croc stepped back into the shadows.

"...Pallas?"

Her head shot around to the window. They'd given her dad the bullhorn. "Nothing matters but getting you safe. Pallas, you can come out now."

"I'm not leaving!" Libby exclaimed.

"...little girls," said the police officer. "It's over."

"I'm not abandoning the library!" Libby stopped, went to the front podium, got up on her footstool and stood behind it. Hand on the ledger. "If I stay maybe they won't blow it up," she said, and sniffed.

No one said anything for a moment.

Fear stepped forward. "Libby, you know that's not true."

Medusa spoke up. "They'll blow the library up either way," she agreed. "It's happened before. I remember a gorgon telling me about the store that got blown up two years ago? Killing the owner inside by accident?"

"Maybe it was an accident," Libby said stubbornly.

"LIBBY!" A voice outside bellowed over the bullhorn. "LIBBY THIS IS YOUR FATHER. COME OUT NOW!"

"Dad!" she exclaimed. They all rushed to the window.

"It's my mom and dad!"

Beside the police officer, Pallas saw a woman with frizzy hair and glasses looking very worried and a small, tired looking man. Libby's dad looked old and worn down, skin and wrinkles over bones. He wore overalls and had the look of a man who had worked hard his whole life and had always played fair. Never asked for a break.

"LIBBY!" her dad said through the bullhorn, shouting even though he didn't have to. "COME OUT OF THE LIBRARY! COME OUT RIGHT NOW!"

Libby threw open the window. She leaned out. "NO WAY! I'LL NEVER ABANDON THE LIBRARY! I'LL DIE HERE! GO AHEAD, BLOW IT UP!"

The crowd looked shocked. Loud murmurs erupted.

"SHE'S GOT GUTS!" her father said, still loud and accidentally speaking partly into the bullhorn. "I never knew that about my daughter," he said, a little quieter, sounding proud. The police officer yanked the bullhorn away. Libby's mom tried to grab it back but the officer tugged it away. He lifted it.

The officer's voice was soft and warm. "There isn't much time, children..."

"You can't blow it up with them in there!" someone in the crowd shouted. There were mutterings of agreement.

The police officer looked around to see who'd said it. "Of course not," he said into the bullhorn.

The police were coming up the walk carrying a log between them to break down the door. Pallas pulled away from the window.

Pallas turned to the monsters. "Croc, Fear, Medusa, you should leave. Head through the tunnels." She paused. "I don't think they'll blow this place. Not yet. But maybe they will, so you should go."

Medusa's snakes hissed. "We're not leaving with the two of you in danger."

"But it's too dangerous."

"Pallas," Fear came over to her. "Medusa, Croc and I have been through wars. It's not too dangerous."

She looked up at him. "But I don't want to lose you."

Fear's smoky eyebrows lifted, surprised.

Pallas wiped her eyes hard. Her hands trembled pretty badly. "Okay, so that's it."

A slamming started on the library doors. Medusa spoke up. "Battering ram. They're trying to break it down." Blam! Blam! Blam!

"It's time," said Fear. "I've had enough of this," he added. "They're frightening children!"

Croc walked over to the door, his feet thudding. "Snorgle," he said.

He slammed through the door, breaking it. Dragging two policemen into the room.

Medusa hurried over, glared at the policemen, hands on hips. "Stop it, this instant!" she said. "You're being very rude."

A bomb rolled into the library.

"Snorgle!" Croc exclaimed. He flopped on it.

There was a small, desperate, "ploff" noise and it looked like Croc burped.

Croc sat up, his front ashy.

Fear wafted over to the broken door.

Everyone screamed.

Some ran.

"Come children," Fear said, gesturing to Libby and Pallas.

Pallas hesitated but came over.

Fear put Pallas and Libby in front of him and stepped outside.

Pallas felt it the second before it happened. Fear grew very solid.

He shoved.

Pallas and Libby tumbled forward.

Fear vanished behind the library door—suddenly there was a library door—and locked it.

"No!" Libby cried. A policeman grabbed her and pulled her back.

"No!" Pallas exclaimed, getting dragged back. She felt a hand around her. Looked up. The officer's teeth were clamped tight with satisfaction. "Let me go!"

The police officer gripped. Glaring down, having caught his rabbit.

"What's that in the window?" came a shout from behind.

Pallas twisted to face the distant window and caught sight of Croc as a huge orange fireball bloomed, pieces of the library flying in every direction. A wave of awful fear rippled over the faces of the townspeople, bobbing them like a boat on rough seas. Like a giant creature, the crowd let out a single massive gasp.

Pallas stared, stunned.

Libby screamed.

The library was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"The monsters!" Libby wailed into her hands, sobbing. Pallas stared blankly, in shock. After the library had blown up the crowd had begun screaming, running in every direction. The police had dragged off a shouting Ms. Sternly and a stoic Connell O'Fiddian. In the commotion Pallas twisted out of the police officer's grip and grabbed Libby's hand. Together they ran across the lawn and hid behind a neighbor's tree. But Pallas could see right away that the police weren't bothering to hunt for them. With the job done, the police quickly cordoned off the area and left.

An hour later eerie silence reigned. Everyone had gone home. Pallas and Libby walked around the desolation. They stood in an empty street. The library had been demolished. A barren wasteland of debris. Libby looked tuckered out from crying. She put her head in her hands, exhausted, and sat in the road. "It's over. It's all over," she muttered. Libby's worst nightmare come true. Her worst nightmare... Pallas thought, realization dawning. A familiar feeling of fear. A flicker before her eyes and what was gone—

Pallas stared at the library, big and old, run down, just as it had always been, except for the door Croc had pulled off its hinges during the fight with the police. "Libby, look!"

"I can't," Libby said.

Pallas reached down and tugged Libby to her feet, pulling Libby's hands from her eyes. "LOOK."

Libby looked over and gasped. "The library!" Bombs laid around its walls, unexploded. "But how?"

Pallas remembered that night. The vision with her father, herself, turning to stone, those rich kinds, everything had felt so real. "Fear must have done it. He can make people imagine things. That's what happened to me on the stairs that night. He must have made a vision for everyone of a big explosion and the library being gone."

Libby stood, sniffling, looking baffled. "I've never heard of anything like that happening before. I mean, there have been mass hallucinations... that's sort of common," she said, sounding confused rather than relieved and Pallas realized Libby was in shock. Libby wiped her nose with her arm and pushed up her glasses with a trembling hand. They didn't see the monsters by the giant hole Croc had made in the door.

Pallas and Libby ran back inside the library.

"You saved the library," Libby said, miffed, dazed. She hugged Medusa, who grinned at her with spiky teeth.

"For now," said Fear. "But I doubt for long."

"He's right," said Pallas. "They know we have monsters."

"Oh that's not it," said Fear. "If the police have gone to all this trouble they've done so on someone's behalf. Whoever it is won't stop until they get what they want. Perhaps a competing library—I've heard they can be cutthroat."

"But people don't think there is a library," said Libby. She wiped her eyes with her arm, "My gods, the library!" she said and began to cry. "I'm just so glad the library and you guys are still here." Medusa squeezed Libby's shoulders, comforting her.

"Tomorrow," said Fear, "the papers will say a fever is going around that makes people think they see buildings blow up."

"Yup," said Libby, breathing, wiping her eyes on her shirtsleeve and in general trying to compose herself. "They've said that before."

Fear waved a black draped arm. "I'll have a talk with—someone all monsters happen to know. I'm quite sure that no one is supposed to be getting monsters blown up for their nefarious purposes." Fear huffed, a puff of smoke coming out. "Safe accommodations, they're not."

"Where's Croc?" Libby asked, holding Medusa's hand.

The street was deserted. Croc was in back, blowing up bombs in a pit. Pallas felt good seeing him. He fit in. All the monsters. They belonged.

Libby raced up and hugged him. "I wish we could tell the whole world what you do for the city!' she said.

"Snorgle," said Croc.

Maybe some day.
Thank you for reading
Book 2: The Mysterious Case of the Library's Mystery: An Athena's Detective Mystery

Copyright

Phaidra Editions

© 2018 Akalle

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

