The Book of Faeyore Read Online Free PDF Page A

Annie’s voice came down the stairs. “Where did Logan go?”
              I shrugged.
              “Gosh – what a day!” Annie sat down next to me on the couch. “I rang up all the delivery companies in town – but none of them had an Alistair on the books. And none of them said they’d sent anyone over to us at all yesterday! I went through all the delivery companies in the Yellow pages.”
              “What?”
              “I even called up the guys at the local Renaissance Faire – and nothing! No Alistair. No delivery.”
              “Wait…” I looked up, perplexed. “You said he delivered something yesterday?”
              “Yeah – the cute guy from yesterday! Don’t tell me you forgot!”
              I looked down. What had I forgotten? “Yeah, I guess…something about an Alistair. That sounds familiar. You opened the door for him…”    
              “You were there, Breena! You picked up the package, remember? We looked for it for hours.”
              “That can’t be,” I said. “I don’t remember any package.”
              “Really, Breena,” said Annie, sighing. “You’re so absent-minded. All you do is read your books and walk around in the woods – you’re going to go crazy if you’re not careful.”
              Was I going crazy? Something felt wrong to me – very, very wrong.
              Instead of going to my room, I went up to my mother’s office. Whenever I was feeling blue, or lonely, or sick, I liked to go read the fairy tales on her library walls. But today, something else attracted me. My mother’s latest large-scale art project: a huge canvas on which a beautiful library was painted. I gasped as I marvelled at the marble floors, the ten stories of books, one on top of the other. It was the most beautiful room I had ever seen. And, I thought, it was strangely familiar. Had I been to this place before?
              I looked more closely at the painting. As my eyes travelled over the canvas, I felt my gaze turning to the book at the center of the painting – almost involuntarily, I leaned in closer. It was a burgundy book, a golden F emblazoned on its spine. And it looked as though it were burning. Something within me compelled me to reach out and touch it – something was calling to me.
              I touched my fingers to the spine.
              And there I heard a voice – a voice that sounded like it was coming from a million miles away.
              “Faeyore.”
     
    ******
              Another world, another time. A land beyond a river that sparkled so brightly that its denizens swore it was made not of water but of liquidated jewels. A palace surrounded by bright red and orange leaves, the crisp yellow foliage of autumn. Cool air blew from the north, carrying the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon and fresh apples through the air. And in the heart of a palace, a young man with tanned skin and golden hair knelt before his Uncle, a noble-looking gentleman with kindly austere eyes. The Duke of Autumn Springs.
              “Did you deliver the package?” The Duke peered at his nephew through a monocle.
              “Yes,” said Alistair, bowing low. “It was difficult to cross over into the mortal lands, but I managed. I knew how important this mission was.”
              “Good.” Alistair’s uncle nodded to himself. “But you shouldn’t have let her see the book – it was too early.”
              “She forgot it, Uncle, don’t worry. The forgetting potion was in the packaging. She got the potion into her fingers through the skin. She forgot about it as soon as she had opened it.
              “And her friends?”
              “The book was invisible to anyone who was not Fey. We don’t have to worry about them.”
              “What about the Wolf Fey,