Free The Day the World Went Loki by Robert J. Harris

uniform trying to catch a swarm of tiny, winged pixies in a butterfly net. He growled at the boys to keep off the flowers as he ran past. Elsewhere a small herd of unicorns was grazing on a patch of nettles where the tennis courts used to be.
    Once outside the park they didn’t see anyone they recognised, but there was no telling who these gremlins, trolls and leprechauns had been yesterday. There was a fairly steady stream of traffic on the road: individuals riding horses, oxen and lizards, as well as vehicles being pulled by all manner of beasts.
    Greg appeared to have become inured to the strangeness. He even greeted the odd passer-by with a casual, “Hello there!” or “Nice day, isn’t it?” Certainlyeveryone seemed friendly enough and they saw no sign of the Valkyries, or Lindsay either. Still, Lewis found it harder and harder to act as though this were just a normal day and he was glad they only had another couple of streets to go before reaching their destination.
    The library was Lewis’ constant refuge from whatever troubles he was undergoing at school or at home, and he hoped that even now, in the midst of this chaos, it might still provide an island of sanity. That hope crumbled when the library came into view.
    It had been transformed into a great sandstone pyramid with statues of animal-headed deities posing on the ledges that ran all round the walls. A pair of sphinxes squatted on either side of the steps that now led up to a set of brass double doors.
    The boys climbed the steps hesitantly and halted before the doors, looking for a handle, or even a bell pull. In the absence of either, Greg reached out to push the nearest door, but before his fingers touched the metal, they both swung open of their own accord.
    As soon as they were inside, the doors slammed shut behind them with a deep boom. The interior was as big as three football pitches. Rows and rows of shelves stretched away into the distance, each one crammed with piles of parchment scrolls. Mysterious hooded figures drifted here and there, removing scrolls thensitting at small desks before carefully unrolling them. The huge room was lit by oil lamps set in the walls and by flaming bowls set atop iron tripods.
    The boys walked forward, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. They came to a desk where a hook-billed bird on a perch clucked at the boys as they approached. The woman seated at the desk was busy making an entry in a large, leather-bound ledger with a quill pen, but the bird’s agitated noise made her look up.
    It was Miss Perkins, the assistant librarian, in the guise of an ancient priestess. Her narrow face was surrounded by an elaborate headdress and an ornate gold necklace hung around her thin neck. She raised her eyebrows challengingly at the two boys and scrutinised them disapprovingly.
    Lewis only plucked up the nerve to speak to her after Greg had prodded him twice in the ribs.
    “Miss Perkins, we need some help.”
    The assistant librarian’s expression became even more suspicious. “Are you initiates?” she asked.
    Lewis looked to his brother for help but was met with blank incomprehension. “Yes, we are,” he answered, hoping that was the right thing to say.
    “Then where is your token of wisdom?” Miss Perkins demanded in a pinched voice.
    Lewis had no idea what she could be talking about.Seeing him at a loss, Greg interposed hurriedly. “He left it in his other trousers. You know how it is.”
    The excuse earned him a stony stare.
    “Only an initiate may enter the Sanctum of Wisdom,” Miss Perkins warned them darkly.
    As if to add weight to her words, the bird ruffled its feathers and bobbed its beak threateningly.
    Lewis had a sudden flash of inspiration. “No, I’ve got it here,” he said, feeling around in his pocket. He pulled out his library card and presented it to Miss Perkins’ dissatisfied gaze.
    She examined it for a few seconds, then said grudgingly, “Very well, you may