Read Online Stolen Away by Alyxandra Harvey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alyxandra Harvey
Ads: Link
piled all around me. Most of them were old, with folded pages and cellophaned covers.
In the movies, this was so much easier. There was always an old woman who hobbled over to give you the clue you needed the most, even if it didn’t make sense at the time. Here, there were only guys throwing spitballs at each other, people studying, a girl talking on her mobile phone, and librarians. And the only old woman we’d seen had pelted us with acorns.
When my journal was half full of little bits of information that might or might not be useful, I decided to take myself off to Rowanwood Park. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and discouraged, and besides, maybe if I could find the hill Eloise was talking about, I’d figure out a way to get her the hell out of it.
’Cause, you know, that made sense.
I really, really wanted to call Devin. And Eloise’s mom. If Eloise was missing, wouldn’t her mom have called me looking for her?
I reached for my mobile and dialed Eloise’s house line. Jasmine answered groggily. “ ’Lo?”
“Hi, Ms. Hart,” I said. “Sorry to call so early, but is Eloise there?”
“She left me a note saying she was sleeping at your place last night.”
Oh. Shit.
“Oh, um, yeah, but she stopped at home to pick up some books,” I lied hastily. “I just wanted to remind her not to forget her … history homework. Her mobile died.”
I could hear Eloise’s mom moving around. “Not here.” She yawned.
“Okay,” I said as cheerfully as I could. “She must be on her way to the library. Bye!” I hung up as fast as I could. Luckily Eloise’s mom was never quite coherent in the mornings since she worked so late at night. She probably didn’t notice I was lying through my teeth.
Eloise didn’t leave that note.
So who did? And why? To put us off her trail? Which meant she was really missing. She’d really been stolen away by the fairies.
I ran all the way to the park.
The wrought-iron doors were open, tall dry grass on either side. The low stone wall that ran along the front of the park was full of people, eating hot dogs, drinking coffee, just sitting in the leaf-shadowed sunlight.
No one had giant glittery wings or ferns for hair.
That was comforting at least.
I went down the path, which was clogged with Rollerbladers and dog walkers, and passed the gazebo where they held outdoor concerts and Shakespearean plays in the summer.I went every year without fail, usually alone since I couldn’t get Eloise or Devin to come with me anymore. They’d grouped together in a strike and would now only meet me for ice cream afterward. Was it my fault they were culturally deficient? How could you not love Ophelia running around in a whalebone corset, tossing flowers, and making mad pronouncements? It was brilliant, plain and simple. I thought of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
all of a sudden and hoped fiercely that no one would come away from our little situation with a donkey’s head.
What a weird thing to worry about actually happening.
I made my way toward the west end of the park. The pond glimmered, framed by the banks and sprinkled with wild lilies. A swan floated on the surface and ignored me completely. There were slight rolls and dips in the grass but nothing I’d call a proper hill without a great deal of wishful thinking. I kicked at the weeds, finding nothing but more weeds; no convenient magic door or wooden sign painted with THIS WAY TO YE OLDE FAERY COURTS .
There was, however, a tiny winged fairy lifting out of a hawthorn bush.
I might have thought it was a blue jay or a really big butterfly, something
normal
anyway. But then she turned her head and looked straight at me.
I slid right off my feet and onto my butt, choking on a scream.
It’s not that I hadn’t believed Eloise. I mean, the trickwith my computer had been pretty unfathomable, but this was something else entirely.
“You’re real!” I gaped.
She sniffed. “Of course, I am. You humans don’t get any less
In the movies, this was so much easier. There was always an old woman who hobbled over to give you the clue you needed the most, even if it didn’t make sense at the time. Here, there were only guys throwing spitballs at each other, people studying, a girl talking on her mobile phone, and librarians. And the only old woman we’d seen had pelted us with acorns.
When my journal was half full of little bits of information that might or might not be useful, I decided to take myself off to Rowanwood Park. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and discouraged, and besides, maybe if I could find the hill Eloise was talking about, I’d figure out a way to get her the hell out of it.
’Cause, you know, that made sense.
I really, really wanted to call Devin. And Eloise’s mom. If Eloise was missing, wouldn’t her mom have called me looking for her?
I reached for my mobile and dialed Eloise’s house line. Jasmine answered groggily. “ ’Lo?”
“Hi, Ms. Hart,” I said. “Sorry to call so early, but is Eloise there?”
“She left me a note saying she was sleeping at your place last night.”
Oh. Shit.
“Oh, um, yeah, but she stopped at home to pick up some books,” I lied hastily. “I just wanted to remind her not to forget her … history homework. Her mobile died.”
I could hear Eloise’s mom moving around. “Not here.” She yawned.
“Okay,” I said as cheerfully as I could. “She must be on her way to the library. Bye!” I hung up as fast as I could. Luckily Eloise’s mom was never quite coherent in the mornings since she worked so late at night. She probably didn’t notice I was lying through my teeth.
Eloise didn’t leave that note.
So who did? And why? To put us off her trail? Which meant she was really missing. She’d really been stolen away by the fairies.
I ran all the way to the park.
The wrought-iron doors were open, tall dry grass on either side. The low stone wall that ran along the front of the park was full of people, eating hot dogs, drinking coffee, just sitting in the leaf-shadowed sunlight.
No one had giant glittery wings or ferns for hair.
That was comforting at least.
I went down the path, which was clogged with Rollerbladers and dog walkers, and passed the gazebo where they held outdoor concerts and Shakespearean plays in the summer.I went every year without fail, usually alone since I couldn’t get Eloise or Devin to come with me anymore. They’d grouped together in a strike and would now only meet me for ice cream afterward. Was it my fault they were culturally deficient? How could you not love Ophelia running around in a whalebone corset, tossing flowers, and making mad pronouncements? It was brilliant, plain and simple. I thought of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
all of a sudden and hoped fiercely that no one would come away from our little situation with a donkey’s head.
What a weird thing to worry about actually happening.
I made my way toward the west end of the park. The pond glimmered, framed by the banks and sprinkled with wild lilies. A swan floated on the surface and ignored me completely. There were slight rolls and dips in the grass but nothing I’d call a proper hill without a great deal of wishful thinking. I kicked at the weeds, finding nothing but more weeds; no convenient magic door or wooden sign painted with THIS WAY TO YE OLDE FAERY COURTS .
There was, however, a tiny winged fairy lifting out of a hawthorn bush.
I might have thought it was a blue jay or a really big butterfly, something
normal
anyway. But then she turned her head and looked straight at me.
I slid right off my feet and onto my butt, choking on a scream.
It’s not that I hadn’t believed Eloise. I mean, the trickwith my computer had been pretty unfathomable, but this was something else entirely.
“You’re real!” I gaped.
She sniffed. “Of course, I am. You humans don’t get any less
Similar Books
