Free Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library by Chris Grabenstein Page A

curled handset wires from several telephones, bundled them together, and made a safety rope.”
    Ten minutes later, Kyle, Akimi, and Sierra had stripped the sproingy wires off a couple of telephone handsets. Kyle looped the cables around his waist and tied the other end to the handrail of the hover ladder. When fully extended, the safety rope would stretch out to a little more than twenty feet.
    It should work.
    “Be careful up there,” said Akimi.
    “Yes,” said Sierra, who wasn’t reading her book anymore. Apparently, watching a real live person risk his real live life by doing something really, really scary was one thing more exciting than reading.
    Kyle locked his feet into the hover ladder’s ski boot brackets. “Here we go.”
    Serious adrenaline raced through his body as he tapped the call number for
Huckleberry Finn
into the hover ladder’s book locator keypad.
    “When you open the window,” said Akimi, “just shout, ‘I found the way out!’ and we win.”
    “Right,” said Kyle. “All three of us.”
    “Huh?”
    “Hey, Sierra came up with the safety rope idea. She’s on our team now, too.”
    “Fine. Whatever. Just don’t break your neck.”
    “Not part of the plan.”
    Kyle pressed the enter button on the control panel. The platform floated up off the ground and drifted slightly to the right.
    “Be careful!” said Akimi. “Watch it!”
    “I’m not doing anything,” said Kyle. “This thingama-jiggy is doing all the work. I’m just along for the ride.”
    Kyle gripped the handles as the platform rose higher and higher. He sailed past books by Tolstoy and Thackeray. Tilting back his head, he looked up at the semi-transparent statues projected into the curved niches next to the arched windows.
    They were a weird mix. A thoughtful African American man in a three-piece suit and a bow tie. A guy with long curly hair, old-fashioned clothes, and a looking glass. A long-haired dude in a scruffy shirt hiding behindcutouts of the letters “P” and “B.” A bald guy with a beard.
    Since the statues were really holographic projections, they had chisel-type labels floating in front of their pedestals identifying who the famous people were. The ones closest to Kyle were George Orwell, Lewis Carroll, Dr. Seuss, and Maya Angelou.
    As he continued to climb, Kyle could hear the soft whir of the electromagnets invisibly lifting him toward the ceiling.
    And then he heard something much louder.
    “What a ridiculous idea!”
    Charles Chiltington. He was standing on the second-floor balcony at the far side of the rotunda.
    “You know, Keeley, I thought about doing the same thing. But then I noticed something you obviously overlooked: There’s a wire mesh security screen on the other side of those windows.”
    The levitating platform stuttered to a stop.
    “Enjoy staring at the ceiling, Keeley. I’m off to win yet another game!”
    Kyle ignored Chiltington and grabbed hold of the ledge beneath Dr. Seuss’s berth. He tried to haul himself up but his feet wouldn’t budge.
    They were locked in place by those ski boot clamps.
    And this close to the skylights, Kyle could see that Chiltington was right—there was a security screen on the other side of the windows.
    Kyle checked his wristwatch. It was one p.m. He andhis teammates had wasted an hour on the lame window idea. He sighed heavily and stared up at the quivering Seuss projection in the bowed niche above his head.
    The Cat in the Hat’s mouth started to move.
    “ ‘Think left and think right and think low and think high.’ ”
    Kyle recognized the voice.
    It was Mr. Lemoncello.
    “ ‘Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!’ ”
    In other words, Kyle was back to square one. He needed to think up a whole new escape plan.
    The ladder began a slow and steady descent to the floor—even though Kyle hadn’t pushed a button.
    “Don’t listen to smarmypants Charles,” Akimi coached as Kyle coasted toward the floor. “It was worth a