Free The Librarian (Book One: Little Boy Lost) by Eric Hobbs

her head in frustration then slowly walked through the door after them. She didn’t make it far, though. None of them did. All three stopped just outside the cabin. They were glued to the spot when they saw the incredible vista that lay before them.
       The cabin was nestled in a magnificent flower garden near the base of a small hill. A lush, green meadow unfolded beyond that. The meadow was bordered by a deep forest on one side and a mammoth waterfall that tumbled over a rocky cliff on the other. There was a narrow road woven through the landscape, its yellow bricks catching the sunlight and creating a golden ribbon that led toward a city skyline on the horizon. Like giant, crystal prisms, the glass buildings captured the sun and sent it back into the world in a million brilliant rays the color of emeralds.
       “Guys?” Wesley began with a smile. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

    TAYLOR SKIPPED DOWN the yellow brick road, elated.
       “Oh my god! This is incredible!” She whipped around with nothing but a toothy grin for her friends. “Do we really have to go home in eighty-eight minutes?” Locke answered with a nod, and Taylor let out a long sigh to signal her disgust. “Ugh! Why? No one’s going to write us out of some stupid story.” She pointed to the city on the horizon. “What if I want to go into Emerald City or meet Dorothy or—“
       Locke cut her off. “You can’t do that.” His tone was quite serious. “We can play and explore, but we’re forbidden to interact.”
       Taylor stepped toward him. The wonder was gone from her face as she studied her new friend. “Says who?”
       “The rules.”
       Taylor playfully waved him off. “Whatever!” She didn’t want to hear anything else and went sprinting into the meadow, arms extended on either side like the wings of an airplane. “Rules don’t make sense in a place like this!”
       Wesley used a cupped hand to help his voice carry. “I thought you were worried about getting back,” he yelled.
       “Back?” Taylor giggled. “Back where?!”
       Wesley watched, happy for his friend as she slowed to approach a pair of giant butterflies walking about in the grass. Both were the size of a small car. They looked like something from one of those old Japanese horror movies his dad liked to watch on a Sunday afternoon.
       For a moment, Wesley worried one of the mammoth insects might grab his friend and fly away with her. He wondered what he would do if that happened but didn’t let his dark thoughts ruin the moment. He was enjoying Taylor’s delight just a little too much for that.
       Taylor tiptoed toward the butterflies, but they sensed her presence and took to the air with a quick flutter of their brightly colored wings. “Hey!” Taylor went running after them, her laughter loud and ever-present.
       Once again, Wesley called out to his friend: “Hey! We can’t go too far. We still don’t know how to get back!”
       The butterflies seemed just as curious about Taylor as she was of them. They circled the young girl at a height just out of her reach. Taylor saw they weren’t going far and froze, raising a hand into the air with a single finger extended.
       “Taylor?” Wesley hollered.
       She didn’t answer. She didn’t move. Taylor stood like a statue, waiting for the butterflies to make the next move. And one of them finally did, gently landing on the perch her finger was there to provide.
       “Oh, man!” Wesley started into the meadow after his friend. “Wait for me!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    DOUGLAS PUSHED THE painting open with little regard, letting the fine piece slam into the brick wall as he barged through the passage exit and into the library. He marched down the corridor and stopped near the railing that looked down into the main hall.
       “Randall!” His fury bounced off every surface in the building. “Randall!!” Randy appeared from