Prologue

Dusty shelves. Unread books. Banned authors lists. Barely any way to see. Dark halls form a maze in the dark. In the library, after hours. A beam of light from the window shines on a book’s spine.

Blue on Silver, Silver on Blue, by Justine Hartrey.

Suddenly the book was snatched away out of sight, away into the dark. Clutched by a dark-haired fifteen year old girl wearing a black sweater, dressed like a theif.

Because that’s exactly what she was doing. Stealing one of the books written by a banned author.

The girl kneeled down on the floor, in the middle of the library. She opened the book and read, “It was a dark and stormy night… when there was no light.”

Once the book started to shake, the girl paused, uncertain if she should keep reading or not. But this was Lark Knowles, and she never gave up. Never.

“The only sounds that could be heard were the distant clutter of a book falling off a shelf.” A book fell off a shelf. Just like in the book. “The library was silent, serene, empty. Until that peace… was interrupted by a thud. And another. Footsteps.”

Thud. Thud. Thud. The ground shook unnaturally. The girl, Lark, dropped the book and scrambled behind a bookshelf, hoping all the books wouldn’t tip over. She spotted a ball of glowing light dancing around in the dark - now complete darkness.

Lark

Hiding behind a bookshelf, after library hours, in that library. Lark had never expected that to happen. She especially didn’t want to be hiding from what seemed like a book character.

She squinted at the figure approaching the book she’d dropped - but when she glanced at that spot, there wasn’t a book, there was a sheet of paper - with nothing on it.

“Wonder what she wants that for,” Lark muttered. Now that the person - it had to be a person - was closer, Lark felt a little bit more nervous, dare she say afraid?

The person - she could now tell it was a girl, a girl about her age (15) - was only a few steps away from Lark.

The girl took a step. Another. And a third. But she still didn’t notice Lark. At least I hope, Lark thought.

Suddenly, the girl whirled around. Lark jumped back, although it was too late.

“Who are you?” the girl demanded, “And why are you spying on me?” She quickly grabbed the paper off the ground, hugging it to her chest. “Because I can tell you that I’m supposed to be here, and you’re definetely not. No one told me, at least.”

“Wait,” said Lark, dragging the word out, “did you say ‘no one told you’? Were you sent here?” And why? Are you working for someone? Argh, I would have known if I’d gotten to read the entire book. But I also might’ve messed this story up already.

“I’m Lark. Lark Knowles,” she added, in case what she said was too much.” The girl’s eyes narrowed. Lark held her breath, waiting for her to yell.

Finally the girl said, “I’m Ivy Loxley.”

Ivy

This girl who was standing in front of her - Well, she thought, she might be alright; maybe she can even help me with my mission. But she’s nosy. I have to make sure she doesn’t find out about Madame Beaumont.

“Okay,” said Lark. “I think I have to…” Go? No, Ivy thought, you can’t go! You need to help me decode this message.

“Wait. Wait, I need your help,” Ivy interrupted. “Besides, where can you possibly need to go? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Really? You need my help.” Lark stared at her, like she’d just said something crazy. “Alright. What do you need help with?” she asked.

“Well… this piece of paper, see… uh, my friend left it here for me, but, uh, it seems she accidentally wrote it in invisible ink. Do you know how I can read it?”

I wish I could tell her… but then, everyone I care about will die! But I suppose I should tell her, so she’ll be more eager to help me.

Not now, though. Not right after I just told her a lie. I just wish I still had the locket.

Ivy - 9 Years Ago

A dark house; there are no lights, and the candles are unlit. The windows are wide open. Despite the gloomy weather, the family who lived in the home was happy.

A young girl was lying down on the wooden planks, writing something. Although she couldn't go to school, although no one could teach her to write, the girl loved it.

Her handwriting, as you would expect for someone who'd never practiced in her life, wasn't very neat, and in fact wasn't only that, but very, very smudged.

Such a poor family, so happy... at least much happier than most poorer families in the village. Compared to the Loxley family, this household was heaven.

Mr. Loxley had been sent to fight for the war, and Mrs. Loxley had died when Ivy, the youngest daughter, was 1. Ivy Loxley could not remember that. The family she had consisted of her and her two sisters.

They'd had decent lives from then on - but terribly unhappy. Ivy's older sisters missed their parents. Soon, one of them died from starvation.

Forced to feed on stale bread, Ivy Loxley wished she could have a happier life. The next morning, she woke up in an unfamiliar room in a palace, awoken my a woman she'd learn to call Madame Beaumont.

Ivy - 3 Years Ago

It had been years since she'd woken up at Madame Beaumont (sometimes she insisted Ivy call her 'Duchess Beaumont')'s palace

Ivy would dream that she was back at her shabby house in the village, back with her sisters and her father, and even her mother, who she could barely remember.

Even if she dreamed, Ivy knew she didn't really miss her parents, nor her family. She was treated well enough at the palace, although not by Madame Beaumont. But Madame Beaumont's servants were kind to her.

But now... after a night of nightmares, a night of restless sleep, a night of shivers down her spine... Ivy was considering running away. After what Madame Beaumont had told her to do...

No, scratch that. Ivy would have willingly tried, had Madame Beaumont not threatened to kill those Ivy cared for. Ivy had thought of her sister, who was, as far as she knew, still alive.

Ivy was scared of the consequences. Messing up was likely. Not messing up was impossible. Impossible if I do it myself.

Lark - Present

Looking into Ivy's pleading expression told her how important this might be. Lark wanted to say no, she wanted to go back, out of the book. Although odd, Ivy's desperate tone made Lark need to say yes. And maybe I can ask how to get back.

"Yes, alright," she said. Ivy looked overjoyed... what Lark had been waiting for. "Maybe we'll find something in the books here?"

Ivy's a friend now. I have to do things to help her, even protect her. She is probably hiding something from me. My problems can wait.

I'm coming, Ivy.