Chapter 1

Courtney, Orion, and Ming crawled through the rotting mulch and ducked beneath a tangled hedge of rhododendrons. In the darkness the wet leaves and limp blossoms licked their arms and faces. The dank smells of moldering foliage, dying flowers, and decaying bark added to the uncomfortable sensations of bugs crawling up their ankles and spiderwebs in their hair. Earlier that night there had been a thunderstorm. Though the rain had stopped, the air was warm and humid, as if a huge invisible dog were breathing down their necks. The clouds had pulled apart to reveal a sliver of the moon, hanging above them in the sky like a sharpened sickle. Fifty feet ahead, they could see the profile of the library with its granite walls, cast-iron grilles, and turreted roof that made it look like a fortress.

"Somebody's there," whispered Orion.

"No, that's just a security light," said Courtney. "It's always on."

"How do we get inside?" Ming asked.

"Follow me." Courtney lifted herself off her knees and into a crouch. The three of them crossed the empty parking lot and ran through the shadows of an overhanging oak until they reached a corner of the library, where they huddled together, listening for sounds.

"Are you sure there isn't a burglar alarm?" said Ming, pressing herself against the rough stone wall.

"No, of course there isn't," said Courtney, who always had an answer even if she wasn't sure. "Nobody's going to steal old books."

In the distance they heard a car and saw its headlights flickering through the trees along Elm Street. After the sound of its engine faded into the distant mumble of the interstate, Courtney led them along the wall to a barred window at ground level.

"Come on, help me," she said. Together, the three of them were able to lift the heavy metal grate. Once this had been removed, Courtney pushed on the window, which swung open easily. Earlier that day, she had unlatched it from inside.

"Ming, you're the smallest, you go first. There's a desk right under the window."

Hesitating for a moment, Ming felt Orion push her forward. It was like crawling into a mailbox. She squirmed in backward and feet first. Her arms scraped against the windowsill and she felt herself begin to fall, but at the last second her shoe kicked the desk, and she was able to stand up before lowering herself to the floor. Inside the library basement it was completely dark, like a cave or a tomb. Above her, Ming could just make out Orion's shape as he slid through the window and nearly fell on top of her. Every scuffling sound they made was amplified. Courtney followed, and the window closed behind her with a thud.

"Where's the flashlight?"

"Here," said Orion.

A feeble beam of yellow light poked through the darkness, and they could see one another's faces in the glow.

"It isn't very bright," said Ming. "You should have got new batteries."

Orion shone the light over the rows of stacks that lined the basement. The gray metal shelves reached almost to the roof, and the spines of books stood in ordered ranks. All three of them had been in the library basement many times before, but it looked different in the dark, as if everything were closer together. The musty odors of paper, ink, and glue were suffocating, and there was a muffled silence in the stacks, as if all of the words in all those books had never once been uttered aloud. Now that they were inside, Ming led the way, reading out the call numbers on the stacks as Orion's flashlight wavered from shelf to shelf.

"Here we go," said Ming, stopping in front of a sign that read bf250-gh85. She made her way down the rows of books until her fingers came to rest on one.

"BF1612.C76," she whispered. It was an ordinary-looking book, old and heavy as a brick, with a plain green cover that had no words or decoration-the kind of book that seemed to have been buried in the library forever, like a forgotten fossil.

Courtney leaned closer as Orion held the flashlight steady. The first few pages were blank, and on one of these was a smudged stamp in red ink:

CARVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY
RESTRICTED
NOT FOR CIRCULATION

As Ming turned to the title page, the batteries in the flashlight started to grow dimmer, though they could still read the words: THE COMPLEAT NECROMANCER An Investigation into the Mysteries of the Afterlife by Prof. Hezekiah T. Osgood 1946

"What's a necromancer?" Orion whispered.

"Someone who talks to ghosts," said Courtney.

At the top of the page was a strange-looking symbol, a conch shell with wings.

"Quickly, page two hundred and three," said Ming.

"What time is it?" asked Courtney.

"Almost midnight." Orion glanced over his shoulder.

Ming flipped ahead, the pages brittle and sticking together. Her fingers trembled, and the old volume suddenly felt heavier. Two days before, when Ming had discovered the book, it had fallen open to page 203, but tonight it seemed as if she would never find what she was looking for, as if the numbers had all been scrambled and everything was out of place.

"There it is," said Orion, shaking the flashlight to try to make it brighter.

" 'Spells and Incantations for Summoning the Deceased,' " Courtney read the chapter title under her breath.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Orion asked.

"You're afraid," said Courtney.

"No, I'm not."

"It says we have to read it all together," said Ming. " 'Three friends must gather in the darkness and conspire to raise the dead. If their voices join in unison, these words expelled in a single breath, only then will the spirits be revealed.' "

"What do we have to say?" Orion asked.

Ming pointed to the verses at the center of the page.

Nore glamat nantam algeron
Mutae crop gnong porce atum
Nor denam lostat sol manedron
Mutan ebel uknyn kul ebenatum
Gni loti velulu levi toling
Na pizrah tolo tharzipan
Gnilor ports ninstrop roling
Na pizro lodab abado lorzipan

"What does it mean?" Courtney wondered aloud.

"The book doesn't say," said Ming.

"How are we supposed to pronounce the words?" Orion said, trying to decipher the jumbled letters.

"We'll just have to do the best we can," Ming said. "Hurry, before the flashlight goes out."

"I can hardly read it," Orion complained, leaning forward nervously.

"Remember, all in one breath," said Courtney. "Here we go- one, two, three . . ."

It was like taking a big gulp of air before you jump into the deep end of a swimming pool. As they read the words aloud, their voices sounded strange and distant. At first the syllables seemed to fit together awkwardly, and they had to squint to read the tiny print, but by the second stanza it felt as if they were all speaking the same language. The rhyme and rhythm fell together. In the hollow darkness of the library basement, their three voices became the echo of a single voice that rustled the pages on the book like the first breeze before a storm.

After they had finished, none of them moved, eyes fixed on the page, where the words seemed garbled now, as if the ink had started to run and blur. But it was just the fading flashlight, which had grown dimmer and dimmer until it finally went out. Orion shook it again, but the batteries were now completely dead, and darkness closed in around them.

"Let's get out of here," said Ming.

"Wait," said Orion. "Listen."

They held their breath for almost a minute.

"It's nothing," said Courtney. "The spell didn't work."

"Did you really think it would?" said Orion.

"No, of course not." Courtney laughed nervously. "I don't believe in ghosts."

"Especially not in libraries," said Ming, trying to sound relieved.

"Okay, let's go," said Orion.

"Wait, I have to put the book back on the shelf, but I can't see." Ming was fumbling about in the dark, her hands brushing the cold metal shelves.

All three of them reached out and felt along the stacks, trying to locate the empty space where the book had been. Eventually, Ming found a gap and pushed the volume into place. Stumbling over one another, they made their way back down the row of shelves.

"We could turn on a light," said Ming.

"Don't be stupid," said Courtney. "Somebody might see it and call the cops."

"Ouch," said Orion, as he bumped into the desk.

Through the squares of glass in the window above, the moon peered in on them. It seemed much larger now, like a giant eye, halfopening out of sleep. Climbing onto the desk, Courtney reached up and struggled with the latch before prying it loose. Though climbing inside had been easy, it was going to be much harder to get out. "You'll have to boost me," said Courtney. "Then I can help pull each of you up."

She was about four inches taller than the other two. Having grown a lot this year, Courtney was self-conscious about her height, though at times like this it was an advantage. With all three of them standing on the desk, it began to creak as if the legs were going to break. Finally, Orion and Ming were able to lift Courtney high enough so that she could scramble through. After that she dragged Ming up while Orion pushed from below. Now he was left alone in the basement. While the two girls reached down to help him, he tried to scale the wall.

Just then they heard a siren. <<br>
Courtney and Ming let go of Orion's wrists. He stood on the desk as the wailing of the siren grew louder. Even inside the basement the sound seemed to be coming in his direction. Outside, the girls kneeled next to the window, trying to decide if they should run and hide. There was more than one siren now, and they could see red and blue lights flashing along Elm Street. A fire truck went by, followed by an ambulance, but instead of turning down the street toward the library, the sirens kept on going in the opposite direction. Ming could feel her heart pounding in her throat, and her mouth had gone dry. Courtney let out her breath and turned back toward the window.

"Orion!" she whispered. "Come on. Let's get you out of there.

Orion?"

"Orion!"

There was no reply.

Excerpted from THE PHANTOM ISLES © Copyright 2011 by Stephen Alter. Reprinted with permission by Bloomsbury USA Children's Books, Inc. All rights reserved.