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her.”
    â€œThen we tell the police the whole thing!” Owen said, realizing that tears were streaming down his face as smoke filled the air. “This isn’t a book , Kiel. This is my real life! We can’t just run, not from the police. We need to tell them what happened, and they can help us find Bethany.”
    Kiel raised an eyebrow. “Think about what you’re saying, Owen. You’re going to tell the police that a fictional character escaped his story to kidnap your half-fictional friend, then set fire to your mom’s library?” He shook his head. “Who would believe you? There’s a reason Bethany keeps her powers a secret. This is something we need to take care of. By ourselves.”
    â€œI don’t care if they believe me!” Owen shouted back. “This is my entire life! My mom’s entire life. She put so much work into this place. I can’t have her thinking I did this! I can’t .”
    First a fire engine, then two police cars sped into the parking lot of the library, slamming on their brakes to skid neatly to a stop within inches of one another. As firemen poured off the truck and hooked up their hoses to a fire hydrant, four police officers leaped out of their cars, noticing Kiel and Owen instantly. “Freeze!” one shouted, reaching for his gun.
    â€œHands in the air!” another shouted.
    â€œWe didn’t do it!” Owen said, his hands flying straight up.
    â€œDescriptions match the suspects,” one of the police officers said into the radio on his chest. “Moving to apprehend.”
    â€œWe’re not suspects!” Owen shouted. “And there’s no need to apprehend. We’re surrendering!”
    â€œThis is a terrible idea, Owen,” Kiel said, taking a step backward toward the bushes. “I don’t have my magic, so I can’t help you if this goes badly. You sure you want to do this?”
    â€œNo,” Owen whispered. Then louder, “The guy who set fire to the library ran out the back. You can still catch him! He’s wearing a brown coat and a creepy mask with a question mark on it.”
    The four police officers moved closer, their guns drawn. “Don’t move!” one said.
    â€œTell it to the judge!” another said.
    Tell it to the judge ? Even with his headache and the fire and everything falling apart, Owen couldn’t believe his ears. Who talked like that? Someone had seen too many cop movies.
    â€œWe need to get out of here,” Kiel hissed, backing away as the firemen began hosing down the library, not that it was doing much good: The fire was blazing out of control now. “Bethany’s depending on us. We have . . . two hours, exactly, to find her. There’s no time to waste with this.”
    â€œThe police will find her,” Owen said, not quite as confidently as before. He glanced at his watch and saw Kiel was right: 02:00:00, right on the dot. “This is how things work in the real world, Kiel. Kids don’t solve crimes here, the police do. We have to let them handle it.”
    â€œCuff ’em,” one of the officers said, and two pulled out handcuffs while the others kept their guns pointed at Kiel and Owen.
    â€œWe didn’t do it,” Owen said, practically pleading with the police. “You have to believe me. The guy who did is getting away!”
    â€œOwen Conners, you have the right to remain silent,” the police officer said, then began to mumble something about an attorney and a few other things, getting so quiet that Owen couldn’t hear any of his other rights.
    Handcuffs snapped around Owen’s wrists, and he was jerked roughly away from Kiel, who sighed and held his hands out in front of him. A second officer went to handcuff the boy magician, but Kiel didn’t take his eyes off Owen. “Sorry, my friend,” he said, shaking his head. “I want to believe you, but chalk it up to