The Books of Magic #5: Lost Places

Chapter One

Present Day London

Thirteen-year-old Tim Hunter sat on the stoop of the Swan Dance School, enjoying the early spring day. Winter was definitely over, and although his neighborhood tended to stay gray in even the best weather, well, he just didn't care. He was in too good a mood.

"Careful there, Hunter," Tim scolded himself. "You nearly started whistling. No one would recognize you in this unusually cheerful state."

He stretched out his legs and leaned his elbows on the step behind him. He had good reason to be a mite cheerier these days. No matter that his whole life had been turned upside down ever since those wacky blokes he called the Trenchcoat Brigade had popped into his life and let him in on one big whopping secret: He had the potential to become a powerful magician. Big deal.

That was nothing compared to finding out that the man he grew up with wasn't really his father and that his real dad, now dead, lived in another world and could turn himself into a falcon at will. So what?

And just because he'd faced Death-actually met her in person-and been chased, attacked, and nearly killed more times than any other thirteen-year-old boy that he knew, well, just another day in the life. Tim still felt as if he could start whistling or bursting into song like they did in the movies his father'er, Mr. Hunter, that is-enjoyed on the telly.

And all because of Molly. Molly O'Reilly. "My girlfriend," Tim declared, testing out the words. It was new, this boyfriend-girlfriend thing, and he was still getting used to it. So far, he liked it?liked it a lot. Most important, he now had someone he could share all of his bizarre experiences with, someone he could trust. Someone . . .

"For heaven's sake, Tim, you are taking up a lot of space," a familiar voice behind him observed. "How are we supposed to get down the stairs?"

Tim tipped back his head and gazed at Molly. She stood above him, hands on her hips, thick dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, brown eyes sparkling. Beside her stood their friend Marya, a girl Tim had met when he had saved her world, Free Country, and encountered again after she had decided to stay permanently in London.

Marya grinned. "Maybe we should try to jete over him."

Molly hooted. "Be my guest," she told Marya. "You're a lot better than I am at jet's. I don't think I'd clear him."