Free The Little Secret by Kate Saunders

came out of the grass forest and saw the box.
    â€œHome sweet home!” the queen said happily.
    Jane had assumed that the paintings on the box would look coarse and false when she was tiny — but they were more exquisitely detailed than ever. She could swear there was a real sunset over the painted woods and hills, and she could almost see the painted branches stirring in a ghostly breeze. The air was full of strange scents, as if they had wafted out of the painted meadows.
    The queen said, “Jane dear, run up to the box. Give it three sharp knocks with the gold ring on your finger, then run back as fast as you can.”
    Jane walked up to the box, thinking that her hand would surely go straight through it. But the painted sides were hard. She knocked three times, with the ring Staffa had put on her finger.
    â€œBack!” called Staffa. “Get back!”
    Jane ran back to Staffa. Beneath her feet she felt the ground trembling. There was a loud rumbling sound, as if a giant machine had been switched on underneath the earth. She clutched Staffa’s hand. The box shook alarmingly. Jane braced herself for an explosion. Instead, the sides of the box suddenly sprang apart.
    Out of the box a castle unfolded, turret by turret. There was a shower of dust, and large pieces of stone crashed to the ground. Out of the castle towers, a beautiful landscape unfolded, covered with rich fields and woods. A great wind rose up, and the two landscapes — the bare Scottish island and the paintings on the box — whirled around them until the colors were a blur.

THE ECKERS
    The wind died as suddenly as it had started. Jane found that they were no longer tiny figures on a bald hillside, but three full-size people standing in front of a stone gateway. There was a real portcullis, a moat and a drawbridge, just like Mike and Phil’s gray plastic castle at home. Brightly colored flags danced in the summer breeze.
    â€œA real castle,” Jane said. “Just like a fairytale.” It was beautiful.
    â€œWelcome to our palace, dear Jane,” said Queen Matilda. “I hope you will come to consider it your second home.”
    They crossed the drawbridge. Two soldiers, wearing uniforms of purple and orange, guarded the castle’s entrance. Jane tried not to stare at them (not wanting to hurt their feelings) but she thought the soldiers looked very odd indeed. When you got close, you saw that they were not quite human. Their bodies were small and round, with long, skinny legs and arms. They had large heads of a peculiar triangular shape. Their eyes and mouths were also shaped like triangles. Their necks were very long and very thin, and they did not have chins. They bowed very low as the queen swept past them.
    â€œYour Majesty!” Another triangular soldier came running out to meet them. Jane thought he must be more important than the others — his purple uniform was covered with rich gold embroidery. “Your Imperial Greatness! We didn’t expect you so soon!”
    He bowed, and kissed the queen’s hand.
    â€œJane,” said the queen, “this is Captain Hooter, my chief servant. Hooter, this is Miss Jane.”
    To Jane’s embarrassment, Captain Hooter grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I’m honored, madam.”
    Nobody had ever called her “madam” — except Dad when he was being sarcastic. Her jeans and sweatshirt were stained with grass, soil and chocolate. She felt very small and dirty.
    There were now dozens of triangular people milling around them, their chinless heads bobbing on their elongated necks.
    â€œOur servants,” Staffa said.
    â€œIs this what the Prockwalds look like under all those scarves?”
    â€œWell, yes. They’re not really allergic to dust mites. In your world, they have to cover themselves up.”
    Jane’s world felt very far away. She gazed around the hall of the royal palace. It was magnificent —