Danny stopped inches from the enclosed glass. The gold arrows were now traveling along the clear surface and seeping into the open book, like invisible ink. What kind of book was this? He peered around for a small placard or sign, the way they usually had at museums. But there was nothing.
Upon closer inspection, Danny noted that it was a hardback, the kind with a cloth cover. The book was open down the middle, written in precise, neat handwriting. The glow of gold warmed Danny’s face as the light that had seeped into the book shone from within the slanted script letters. It was as if a sunbeam was passing across the page and illuminating the words beneath.
Just as quickly as they had appeared, the golden arrows and vines vanished. Danny pressed his hands on the surface, leaving behind smudgy fingerprints.
“No! Come back!”
The unmistakable sound of a dog barking made Danny jump. The growl echoed in the room. He wasn’t alone anymore. He hadn’t even heard anyone come in.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” a sharp voice scolded him.
Danny whirled around and shrank back, accidentally rattling the glass case behind him. The dog snarled and lowered itself onto its front paws the way animals did when they were going to jump, or worse, bite.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said. His voice came out in a whoosh of air. “The door was open. Well, it opened on its own, really.”
The girl in front of him had freckled, light brown skin; inquisitive brown eyes; and a pert, round nose. She wore a bright yellow dress, and her brown curls were swept up into two buns atop her head. He recognized her as the same girl he’d seen carrying a stack of books nearly as tall as she was. Only now she didn’t have any books. Her hands were at her hips and her eyes were narrowed to slits as she stared at him. She seemed no older than Danny himself. Her shoes were Mary Janes the color of candied apples and her white socks were pulled right up to her knees.
“What do you mean it opened on its own?” the girl asked warily.
Danny was torn between lying and telling the truth. He knew she wouldn’t believe him. No one did. But he was going to get in trouble either way, so he might as well be honest.
“I saw something,” Danny explained. “I can’t explain what I saw, but the door opened on its own, I swear. Now, will you please stop your dog from trying to eat me?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to eat you. Orion, be nice.”
Orion, a small Pomeranian, sat up and made a whining sound. If Danny could speak the same language as dogs, he imagined it would be translated into What did I do?
“Thanks,” Danny said, easing a bit.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, eyeing him with a curious spark. “Who are you?”
“I’m Danny. I got separated from my school tour.” Danny turned to point at the glass case. “What is this book?”
The girl’s face lit up and she closed the distance between them. It was as if he’d finally asked the right question. “Isn’t it cool? This is the original book of fairy tales written by Ella St. Clay. It’s called The Way to Rio Luna.”
IF DANNY HAD BEEN holding something, he would have dropped it dramatically. Instead, he stood there, his mouth open so wide he could probably double as a fly catcher.
He stared at the book with reverence, and as his eyes traced the handwritten letters, he realized it was his favorite story: “Sinchi and the Cliffs of Nowhere.”
“I know this one,” Danny said, feeling a bit dazed as his throat tightened with emotion. It was his book. Pili’s book. At least, it was a version of it. He never thought he’d see it again and it was here, in this library, bathed in the same golden light that had beckoned him.
“You do?” the girl asked. Her eyes widened with excitement. “There were only a thousand copies printed and then the publisher burned down. My auntie tells me that’s why they’re so special.”
“Rare,” Danny said, remembering what Anjali the tour guide had told them.
“Exactly. Do you still have your copy?”
Danny shook his head. “No. But my sister used to read this book of stories to me. Her favorite one was about the Moon Witch.”
“I love that one!” the girl in the yellow dress said. “My mom also read it to me when I was little.”
They grinned at each other. It had been so long since he’d met someone he shared something in common with. Could this curious girl see the golden arrows, too?
“Wait, why is it locked up?” Danny asked her.
“For security reasons, mostly.” The girl shrugged. “An archeologist working for the library is trying to restore it.”
“That must be the book Ms. Singh mentioned.”
“Yes. My auntie is the one doing the restoration.”
Danny leaned back over the glass pane. The book was old, but it looked in better condition than the copy he’d owned.
“What does that mean? What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
“Four pages are missing and the ink has some water damage.” She drummed her fingers on the glass display. “Can you believe it? Ella St. Clay’s real handwriting. It’s nothing like my handwriting, which is messy. But I’m working on my calligraphy. Anyway, one thing is for sure. It’s a special book.”
Danny agreed wholeheartedly. It was special. Could the girl in the yellow dress tell him more? Was there a chance he wasn’t the only one who could see the gold arrows? Would she make fun of him for asking? He needed to know, so he worked up the courage to ask.
“What about— I mean— Can you see the arrows, too?” he asked tentatively, wincing like he was getting ready for the slap of words that confirmed he was just as strange as grown-ups had told him his whole life.
“Arrows?” A tiny wrinkle formed across her brow. She seemed to take a step closer to him. He imagined if she had a magnifying glass, she’d peer at him through it.
“They’re the ones who opened the door—” He was beginning to worry that he’d said something wrong and was about to backtrack when a golden arrow materialized on the open pages of the original Ella St. Clay book. It darted across the page, then went right through the glass. It vanished in a puff of glitter right at Danny’s feet.
Both Danny and the girl gasped.
“There! Did you see that?” Danny said.
“Wait right here.” She pointed a finger in his face. Orion started barking again.
“Where are you going?” Danny shouted, but she was already running out the door and down the corridor.
Danny shook. What if she was getting security? What if the arrows meant something terrible? He couldn’t get in trouble again. The more the moments dragged, the more Danny convinced himself that this girl was going to tell on him. She was going to say a strange boy had broken into a room with a rare book and started rambling on about golden arrows. Then he’d have to face Mr. Garner and Ms. Esposito and Mrs. Contreras and Anjali. Why couldn’t he have ignored the arrows? Why had he let the twins drive him away in the first place? He couldn’t be here if she returned with security guards.
Danny ran out the door, slamming it shut. With every step, frantic golden arrows appeared beneath his feet, bending into U-turns on the floor. They wanted him to go back.