Worlds Collide (The Land of Stories #6)

“The buildings stand higher than beanstalks!” Jack said. “Conner, why didn’t you tell us New York City was so…tall?”

“Actually, I’m just as amazed as you are,” Conner said. “I’ve written about cities like this, but I’ve never been able to describe the feeling it gives you at first sight. Now I know it’s because it can’t be described in words.”

Red grunted—forever unimpressed with the Otherworld.

“Sure, it’s big—but why does everything need to be so boxy?” she asked. “Is it too much to ask for a tower, or a dome, or a sensible spiral? I feel like a mouse in a shoe-box closet.”

They drove through a wide intersection, and the glistening roof of the Chrysler Building came into view. Red squealed and pressed her hands and forehead against her window.

“Now that’s more like it!” she said.

The taxi paused briefly on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Thirty-Fourth Street, waiting for a procession of police vehicles to pass by. Conner could have sworn he recognized a few people in the window of a restaurant called Cheesy Street, but he figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him. As he moved to take a second look, he dropped his wallet on the floorboard. By the time he sat back up, the taxi was already moving again.

Once the police were gone, the driver turned south on Fifth Avenue and pulled over between Thirty-Third and Thirty-Fourth Street.

“I know you wanted to get as close to the library as possible, but you may want to get out here,” he suggested. “Traffic is backed up in this area because of the gas leak. It’ll be faster if you just walk the rest of the way.”

“That works,” Conner said. “How much do I owe you?”

“That’ll be sixty bucks total,” the driver said.

“We have to pay for this ride?” Red asked in disbelief. “For goodness’ sake, a runaway carriage would have been more comfortable. We were two bumps away from having our innards scrambled!”

“Don’t complain to me, lady,” the driver said. “I took the smooth streets.”

Conner retrieved some cash from his wallet and paid the driver. He and his friends got out of the taxi and joined the bustling pedestrians on the Fifth Avenue sidewalk. Conner looked up and down the street, but the crowds made it difficult for him to figure out where they were.

“Which way is the public library?” he asked, thinking aloud.

“I’d look it up on my phone, but I don’t want my parents to track me—it’s a long story,” Bree said. “Looks like we’ll have to resort to ancient methods and ask for directions.”

Conner and Bree tried to flag someone down, but all the tourists and locals breezed right past them. There were so many people, Red couldn’t see where she was walking and almost stepped on a homeless man sitting on the ground.

“Hey, Your Majesty!” he said. “Watch where you’re going.”

The man was scruffy and wore a janitor’s uniform under a dirty brown coat. Red smiled down at him and patted his head like he was a dog.

“Oh, bless you,” she said. “Thank you for recognizing me, but there’s no need for formal titles while I’m in this world.”

“Red, he’s being sarcastic,” Bree said. “Most people in the Otherworld don’t walk around in ball gowns and tiaras.”

Since the homeless man was the only person on the street who wasn’t in a hurry to get somewhere else, Conner figured he was their best shot at getting directions to the library.

“Excuse me, sir?” he said. “Could you tell us how to get to the New York Public Library from here?”

“Sure I could,” the homeless man said. “Got a dollar?”

Conner shrugged and gave him a dollar. The homeless man held it toward the sun to make sure it was a legitimate bill.

“Walk north on this street for six blocks and make a left—you can’t miss it,” he said. “Although I doubt they’re letting anyone get close after what happened last night.”

“Are you talking about the gas leak?” Bree asked.

“A gas leak? Is that what they said happened?” The homeless man snorted and shook his head disapprovingly. “Typical. They’re always trying to control people by keeping them in the dark. Well, they can’t control me! I was at the library last night and I saw what really happened with my own eyes.”

Conner and his friends formed a half circle around the homeless man, which seemed to make him a little nervous.

“Mind telling us what you saw?” Conner asked. “We’d love to know what’s really going on.”

“I’d love to tell you, but a story will cost you ten bucks,” the man said.

“Ten bucks?” Conner said. “But you only charged me a dollar for directions.”

“Listen, kid, I didn’t wind up on the streets from being a bad businessman. If I got something you want, it’s gonna cost you.”

Conner rolled his eyes and gave the homeless man ten dollars. Once the man had inspected the money, he tucked it away and began his story.

“It was around midnight and I was sleeping down by the library,” he said. “They’ve got this bench near a fountain—it’s my favorite place to take a snooze in the city. Anyhoo, I was dreaming about playing in the World Series when I was rudely awoken by the sound of police sirens. I was worried the library security guard had called the fuzz on me, so I hid behind some bushes. The next thing I know, some broad comes floating out of the library like a ghost! She raised her hands into the sky and BAM! Lightning struck both the lion statues! Naturally, once I saw that, I bolted like a rat in a cathouse. To be honest, it’s not even the first time I’ve seen magic in this city—but hey, who’s gonna believe a bum like me?”

Conner’s heart was beating so hard, he could feel it in multiple parts of his body. He leaned down and looked the homeless man directly in the eye.

“The girl who floated out of the library—what did she look like?” he asked.

“She was really pale,” the man said. “She had bright blue eyes and long reddish-blondish hair, and wore a white dress. Come to think of it, she looked a lot like you, kid.”

“Alex,” Conner gasped. “We were right—she’s here! She’s at the library!”

Without any warning, he dashed up Fifth Avenue as fast as he could, and his friends followed. They weaved through the crowds on the sidewalk until they came to a dead stop at a barricade on Thirty-Eighth Street.

The blockade was an overwhelming sight. A dozen police cars were parked in a row across the street to prevent pedestrians and traffic from going any farther. Beyond the cars, dozens and dozens of police officers were scattered throughout the vacated area. Conner tried sneaking past the barricade, but an officer blocked him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the officer said. “Where’s the fire?”

“Please, you have to let me through,” Conner said. “It’s an emergency.”

“Sorry, no one is allowed past this point,” the officer said. “They’re clearing up a nasty gas leak up by the library. It isn’t safe.”