The Second Spy: The Books of Elsewhere: Volume 3
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In Olive's third adventure in the New York Times bestselling Books of Elsewhere series, what lurks below the house could be as dangerous as what's hidden inside. . .
Some terrifying things have happened to Olive in the old stone house, but none as scary as starting junior high. Or so she thinks. When she plummets through a hole in her backyard, though, Olive realizes two things that may change her mind: First, the wicked Annabelle McMartin is back. Second, there's a secret below-ground that unlocks not one but two of Elsewhere's biggest, most powerful, most dangerous forces yet. But with the house's magical cats acting suspicious, her best friend threatening to move away, and her ally Morton starting to rebel, Olive isn't sure where to turn. Will she figure the mystery out in time? Or will she be lured into Elsewhere . . . and trapped there for good?
A must-read fantasy series for fans of Pseudonymous Bosch, Coraline, and Septimus Heap.
several steps ahead, Olive trying to keep up without tripping over anything. Ahead of them, in the wispy white air, Olive could make out the square of the picture frame glowing with light from the upstairs hall. Horatio waited below the frame as she put on the spectacles, watching her fumble them in her still sore hands. “You go through first,” he commanded, taking a final sweeping glance at the craggy hillsides. “I want to keep an eye on you.” Olive obeyed. She landed on the carpet in the
sickly croak. “Thank you, Ms. Teedlebaum.” Ms. Teedlebaum smiled and flapped her hands again. “It was nothing. I hope you feel better soon.” “I hope you—” said Olive, in knee-jerk fashion, before catching herself. “Um—feel good too.” Ms. Teedlebaum didn’t seem to find this odd. She just went on smiling. Then she wrapped one of her three scarves back around her neck, setting the cords of keys and trinkets clinking, said “Good-bye!” and jangled out the door. “What a nice woman,” said Mrs.
But before Horatio could say another word, there was a sharp snapping sound, and both Olive and Horatio plunged through a layer of bracken into a deep, hidden pit. Olive’s brain barely had time to shout, It’s a tiger trap! No, it’s a bear trap! No, it’s a— before her feet hit something solid, sending a painful jolt through her spine, and she collapsed in a heap. Several feet above her, the flowering bracken mended itself, forming a net that blocked out all but a few glimmers of gray sky. “How
Horatio didn’t move. “Hi, Horatio,” said Olive. “I’m going to take a present to Morton. It’s a picture of his parents. Made with normal paint this time,” she added quickly. “Would you like to come Elsewhere with me?” Horatio didn’t answer. His ears gave a miniscule twitch. “Horatio?” Slowly, Horatio’s face turned toward Olive. “She’s out there. Not far away.” Olive clutched her painting to her chest. “What should we do?” she whispered. “What can we do?” Horatio’s whiskery eyebrows rose. “Be
and the next moment, she was making a squealing sound (something like “AaoooOOP!”) as she slid down a steep dirt wall into a dark, chilly space far below the ground. For a moment, all she could do was breathe. Once she was certain that she would go on breathing with or without trying to, Olive took an inventory of her body. Except for her now very dirty shirt, nothing seemed to be damaged, including the spectacles. Shakily, she rearranged herself into a semi-upright position and glanced up at