Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Children's Books,
Action & Adventure,
Family,
Juvenile Fiction,
Action & Adventure - General,
Magic,
Fantasy & Magic,
Cousins,
Ages 9-12 Fiction,
Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic,
Language Arts & Disciplines,
Animals,
Children: Grades 4-6,
Dragons,
Mythical,
Body; Mind & Spirit,
Animals - Mythical,
Magick Studies,
Books & Libraries,
Libraries,
Library & Information Science
pointed. "See? There's a secret passage that goes underground, tunneling beneath the outer walls and coming up inside the castle. See? It comes out here, in the throne room. Once we're in the throne room, we go over here, to the gallery. See this set of twisty stairs? It leads up to the main tower, which is where the keep or the donjon is."
"Which is where we think the professor is being held prisoner!" Jesse said, forgetting his worries. "Brilliant!"
"Exactly. Totally bypassing the giant dogs!" Daisy beamed at him.
They hopped off the book and launched into the happy little prospector's dance to celebrate their perfect plan.
"It's all very well for you to frolic," Balthazaar grumbled, "but if I were you, I shouldn't leave my friend very long in the clutches of that evil woman."
Jesse and Daisy froze.
"You're right," Daisy said. "We've got no business dancing while the professor is her prisoner." Then she looked up into the ghostly face of the
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dragon storyteller. "Thank you for the plans, Mr. Balthazaar. We promise to do our best."
"Cross our hearts," Jesse said.
"Never mind your hearts. Just use your brains. You'll need all your lobes to outsmart that wily wench," said the dragon, his garnet eyes now on fire with hope. Then he dissolved into a black vapor that bubbled back into the pages of the book and disappeared.
"What did I tell you?" the shelf elf said with pride.
"You're right, Mr. Wink," Daisy told him. "That was an extraordinary book. Thanks for recommending it. But now we have to go. We have lots to do."
"Where's Emmy?" Jesse asked.
Mr. Wink pointed. Emmy stood behind a bookshelf, holding a long pole that had a hook on the end of it. Whatever it was, it made for a perfect back-scratcher. The expression on Emmy's face was one of pure bliss.
"I guess she finally reached that itch," Jesse said, smiling.
"Come on, Emmy," Daisy said. "Let's go."
"Must you scratch and run? (Why are they always in such a hurry these days? Who knows!)" Willum Wink's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "I was so hoping you'd stay long enough to
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view the Scriptorium's Special Collection."
"You have a collection, too?" Jesse said.
"We'll come back and see it another time," Daisy said.
"Why not now?" Jesse said.
"Ah!" said the elf with a grin. "I know a connoisseur of collections when I see one. Step this way."
Daisy held Jesse back. "What are you doing?" she whispered furiously.
"I'm going to see the collection," Jesse said. "And so are you, Daze. Remember what Miss Alodie said? She said 'Look to the collections.' I bet that's what she meant. Not just our own collection, but the Scriptorium's, too."
Daisy's eyes grew wide. "Jess, you're a genius!"
Jesse blushed.
They followed Willum Wink down the wide main aisle until they entered a different sort of space, fit out with long, low stone tables, upon which elves swarmed over countless books spread out in various states of disrepair.
"We call this the Recovery Laboratory," Willum Wink said.
Some of the elves they passed wore blue jackets. Others wore red jackets.
"What are they doing?" Daisy asked.
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"Those are bibliotechnicians in blue," the elf explained. "Bibliotherapists in red. Specialists. (And stuck-up ones, too, aren't they? My word, they are, indeed!) They do what needs to be done to keep all our volumes in good repair. They refresh faded inks, mend torn pages, sew raveling bindings, tidy the headbands and the foot bands, glue down peeling endpapers."
"What do the bibliotherapists do?" Jesse asked.
Mr. Wink halted. "You know, I've always wondered that myself. It's all very sensitive and hands-on and intuitive, but it's strictly hush-hush. Ah, here we are!"
They came to a place where the worktables had given way to row upon row of enormous display cases, their glass fronts sparkling in the foggy golden light.
Emmy, who had left the pole behind, ran ahead and began to work her back against the edge of one of the cases.
"Emmy!" Daisy scolded,