The Bridge to Never Land Read Free

you…?”
    “Shh,” she hissed. “Not so loud. You’ll wake Mom and Dad.”
    “What are you doing in here?” he said. “It’s…midnight.”
    She handed him the first book. He reluctantly accepted it from her, rubbed his eyes open, and read the title.
    “ Peter and the Shadow Thieves, ” he said. “I already read this. As in like five years ago.”
    “I know that,” she said. “But read this part.” She was pointing to a paragraph on the bottom of page 475.
    Aidan read it aloud quietly.
    “First thing tomorrow,” said Aster, “I will arrange to send you all back to London. But for tonight you must remain here. I’m going out for several hours with Mister Magill—the man who, ah, greeted you at the gate.”
    Aidan looked up at Sarah. “So?” he said.
“Magill!” she said, holding up the document from the desk. “I knew I knew that name. He helped the Starcatchers!”
    “Are you insane? You woke me up for this?”
    “Magill!” she repeated.
    “So it’s the same name. Big deal. There’s probably a million Magills. I can’t believe you woke me up—”
    “Do you know any Magills?”
    “No, but that doesn’t mean—”
    “I’m not done,” she said, holding up the second book. He read the title: Peter and the Sword of Mercy.
    “Magill’s mentioned in here, too,” she said. “A lot.”
    “I still don’t see why—”
    “Just wait, okay?” she said, opening the book to a folded page. “Here. Leonard Aster is telling Peter and Wendy to go to a safe place. Look where he sends them.” She presented the book to Aidan, this time pointing to the middle of page 312. He read:
    “When you get out of here,” he said, “go straight to a hotel in Sloane Square called the Scotland Landing.”
    Aidan looked up. Sarah showed him the document again. “‘In the Landing,’” she said. “It says ‘In the Landing.’ In the book, Magill lives there. In the Scotland Landing Hotel.”
    “That’s just a coincidence,” said Aidan. But he sounded less confident than before.
    “Wait,” said Sarah, now leafing furiously through the book. “Here!” She was pointing to the bottom of page 325. Again, Aidan read:
    The taxicab rumbled through the dark streets for fifteen minutes, then stopped in front of a narrow three-story building on a quiet street near Sloane Square called Draycott Place.
    “Draycott Place,” said Sarah. “In this book, Magill was in Scotland Landing, in Draycott Place.” She waved the document. “Magill. In the Landing. In the Place.”
    Aidan looked at the book, then the paper, then back to the book again. “So are you, like, saying you think this Starcatchers stuff is for real? That’s crazy.”
    “Then who wrote this ?” she said, holding up the document.
    Aidan thought about that.
    “It could be a practical joke,” he said. “Somebody read these books, and then they wrote that stuff on the paper, and then they hid it in the desk so somebody like you would fall for it.”
    “Really?” said Sarah. “You’re saying somebody read the books, then found this ridiculously old-looking piece of paper and wrote this stuff on it, then hid the paper in the secret compartment of this really old desk, and it was all some kind of joke?”
    “Well…yeah.”
    “But how would they expect anybody to ever find it? If you hadn’t hidden under the desk and bumped your shoulder, we’d never have found it. Nobody would have ever found it. Ever, as in ever.”
    Aidan thought about that. “Okay,” he said, pointing to the paper. “So what do you think it is?”
    “What I think,” said Sarah, “is that it’s…a mystery.”
    “Wow. A mystery. Nice work, Sherlock Holmes.”
    “I’m not saying I have the answer to the mystery. I’m just saying it is one.” She hesitated, then said, “And I’m going to solve it.”
    “You?”
    “Yes.”
    “How, exactly?”
    “I’m going to start at Draycott Place.”
    “Which is in London. We’re in Pittsburgh,