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  There was nothing strange about the letter itself, except what was written on it. It was a single sheet of yellowed paper, just like an old letter should be, mottled with blue swirls and waves where the paper had gotten wet, making the ink bleed and blur. May pulled it out gingerly, worried it might disintegrate. She unfolded it.

  Dear Miss Bird,

  The Lady of North Farm had asked us to send you this map to Briery Swamp Lake, just in case. She thought you might be having trouble finding it on your own, and she is expecting you to be prompt. We are very sorry for the danger you will endure, but we eagerly await your arrival should you survive it, as we are in great need of your help. The Lady joins me in sending you good luck and best wishes.

  Sincerely,

  Ms. H. Kari Kagaki

  T.E.A. Travel

  May let out a sigh of relief. That settled it. She didn’t know Kari Kagaki or any North Farm. They had the wrong person. She sank back, feeling like a casserole dish full of Jell-O. She looked at the envelope and the picture again. It brought back that uneasy knot.

  May’s fingers stretched toward the map, and she looked at it sideways, trying to pretend that she wasn’t looking at all. She immediately recognized a few things. There was the town square. There—the knot got worse—was White Moss Manor, and there were the woods. The map even showed a dark smudge, where the giant gathering of briers-the Endless Briers, May called them, because she’d never managed to cross them—wound their way thickly along the east side of May’s woods.

  And beyond them, there was a lake.

  Almost as much as the letter itself, this couldn’t be believed. There were no lakes in Briery Swamp. Not even a puddle. The squirrels and chipmunks, May had always supposed, went to the next town over to get their water. If the lake had been there in 1951, it wasn’t there now.

  May crumpled up the letter and dropped it on the ground. But as soon as she stood up, she swept down and picked it up. Turning red, she flattened the letter out, folded it, and tucked it into her knapsack. She caught Somber Kitty looking at her thoughtfully.

  “I don’t want to litter,” she said, knowing there wasn’t a thing in the world that would get her to go looking for that lake. But Somber Kitty didn’t appear to be convinced. May sighed. “Really.”

  The truth was, nobody had ever said they needed her.

  “Mew,” was all she got in reply from someone who needed her very much. If a cat-to-English dictionary had been handy, and May had looked up “mew,” it would have translated into something like “curiosity killed the cat.”

  May climbed onto her bike, held her knapsack down for the cat to crawl into, and together they headed home.

  1 THE FIELD GUIDE

  by TONY DITERLIZZI AND HOLLY BLACK

  When the Grace children take up residence in their great aunt’s Victorian house and discover a strange old book, they uncover a world filled with elves, goblins, dwarves, trolls, and other fantastical creatures. The Field Guide is the first book in this number-one New York Times and USA Today bestselling series.

  TONY DITERLIZZI is also the illustrator of the Caldecott Honor–winning The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt. He lives in Amherst, Massachusetts, with his wife, Angela, and their pug, Goblin.

  HOLLY BLACK is also the author of Valiant: A Modern Tale of Faerie (available June 2005), a follow-up to her first book, Tithe: A Modern Faerie Tale, which published in fall 2002 to stellar reviews. She lives with her husband, Theo, in Amherst, Massachusetts.

  Please visit www.SimonSaysKids.com/spiderwick or www.spiderwick.com for Spiderwick games, an interview with Tony and Holly, downloadable trading cards, and more creature features!

  Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

  New York • London • Toronto • Sydney

  The creak startled him into jerking upright.

  Chapter Two

  IN WHICH Two Walls Are Explored by Vastly Different Methods

  The leaks in the roof had made all but three of the upstairs bedroom floors dangerously rotted. Their mother got one, Mallory got another, and Jared and Simon were left to share the third.

  By the time they were done unpacking, the dressers and nightstands of Simon’s side of the room were covered in glass tanks. A few were filled with fish. The rest were crammed with mice, lizards, and other animals that Simon had confined to mud-furnished cages. Their mother had told Simon he could bring everything but the mice. She thought they were disgusting because Simon had rescued them from a trap in Mrs. Levette’s downstairs apartment. She pretended not to notice he’d brought them anyway.

  Jared tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress, pressing the pillow down over his head like he was smothering himself, but he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t mind sharing a room with Simon, but sharing a room with cages of animals that rustled, squeaked, and scratched was eerier than sleeping alone would have been. It made him think of the thing in the walls. He’d shared a room with Simon and the critters in the city, but the animal noises had dimmed against the background of cars and sirens and people. Here, every thing was unfamiliar.

  The creak of hinges startled him into jerking upright. There was a figure in the doorway, with a shapeless white gown and long, dark hair. Jared slid off the bed so fast he didn’t even remember doing it.

  “It’s just me,” the figure whispered. It was Mallory in a nightgown. “I think I heard your squirrel.”

  Jared stood up from a crouch, trying to decide if moving so fast meant he was a chicken or if he just had good reflexes. Simon was snoring gently in the other bed.

  Mallory put her hands on her hips. “Come on. It’s not going to wait around for us to catch it.”

  Jared shook his twin’s shoulder. “Simon. Wake up. New pet. New peeeeeeeeeet.”

  Simon twitched and groaned, trying to pull the covers over his head.

  Mallory laughed.

  “Simon.” Jared leaned in close, making his voice deliberately urgent. “Squirrel! Squirrel!”

  Simon opened his eyes and glared at them. “I was sleeping.”

  “Mom went out to the store for milk and cereal,” Mallory said, pulling the covers off him. “She said I was supposed to keep an eye on you. We don’t have much time before she gets back.”

  The three siblings crept along the dark hallways of their new house. Mallory was in the lead, walking a few paces and then stopping to listen. Every now and then there would be a scratch or a sound like small footsteps inside the walls.

  The scuttling grew louder as they neared the kitchen. In the kitchen sink, Jared could see a pan crusted with the remains of the macaroni and cheese they’d had for dinner.

  “I think it’s there. Listen,” Mallory whispered.

  The sound stopped completely.

  Mallory picked up a broom and held the wooden end like a baseball bat. “I’m going to knock open the wall,” she said.

  “Mom is going to see the hole when she gets back,” Jared said.

  “In this house? She’ll never notice.”

  “What if you hit the squirrel?” Simon asked. “You could hurt—”

  “Shhhh,” Mallory said. She padded across the floor in her bare feet and swung the broom handle at the wall. The blow broke through the plaster, scattering dust like flour. It settled in Mallory’s hair, making her look even more ghostly. She reached into the hole and broke off a chunk of the wall.

  Jared stepped closer. He could feel the hair on his arms stand up.

  “I’m going to knock open the wall.”

  Torn strips of cloth had been wadded up between the boards. As she snapped off more pieces, other things were revealed. The remains of curtains. Bits of tattered silk and lace. Straight pins poked into the wooden beams on either side, making a strange upward-snaking line. A doll’s head lolled in one corner. Dead cockroaches were strung up like garlands. Tiny lead soldiers with melted hands and feet were scattered across the planks like a fallen army. Jagged pieces of mirror glittered from where they had been glued with ancient
gum.

  Mallory reached into the nest and took out a fencing medal. It was silver with a thick blue ribbon. “This is mine.”

  “The squirrel must have stolen it,” said Simon.

  “No—this is too weird,” Jared said.

  “Dianna Beckley had ferrets, and they used to steal her Barbie dolls,” Simon replied. “And lots of animals like shiny things.”

  “But look.” Jared pointed to the cockroaches. “What ferret makes his own gross knickknacks?”

  “Let’s pull this stuff out of here,” Mallory said. “Maybe if it doesn’t have a nest, it will be easier to keep out of the house.”

  Jared hesitated. He didn’t want to put his hands inside the wall and feel around. What if it was still in there and bit him? Maybe he didn’t know much, but he really didn’t think squirrels were normally this creepy. “I don’t think we should do that,” he said.

  Mallory wasn’t listening. She was busy dragging over a trash can. Simon started pulling out wads of the musty cloth.

  “There’s no droppings, either. That’s strange.” Simon dumped what he was holding and pulled out another handful. At the army men, he stopped. “These are cool, aren’t they, Jared?”

  Jared had to nod. “They’d be better with hands, though.”

  Simon put several in the pocket of his pajamas.

  “Simon?” Jared asked. “Have you ever heard of an animal like this? I mean, some of this stuff is really odd, you know? Like this squirrel must be as demented as Aunt Lucy.”

  “Yeah, it’s real nutty,” Simon said, and giggled.

  Mallory groaned, then suddenly went quiet. “I hear it again.”

  “What?” Jared asked.

  “The noise. Shhhh. It’s over there.” Mallory picked up the broom again.

  “Quiet,” Simon whispered.

  “We’re being quiet,” Mallory hissed back.

  “Shush,” Jared said.

  The three of them crept over to where the sound came from, just as the noise itself changed. Instead of hearing the clatter of little claws scrabbling on wood, they could clearly hear the scrape of nails on metal.

  “Look.” Simon bent down to touch a small sliding door set into the wall.

  “It’s a dumbwaiter,” Mallory said. “Servants used it to send trays of breakfast and stuff upstairs. There must be another door like this in one of the bedrooms.”

  “That thing sounds like it’s in the shaft,” Jared said.

  Mallory leaned her whole body into the metal box. “It’s too small for me. One of you is going to have to go.”

  Simon looked at her skeptically. “I don’t know. What if the ropes aren’t that good anymore?”

  “It would just be a short fall,” Mallory said, and both the boys looked at her in astonishment.

  “Oh, fine, I’ll go.” Jared was pleased to find some thing Mallory couldn’t do. She looked a little bit put out. Simon just looked worried.

  The inside was dirty and it smelled like old wood. Jared folded his legs in and bent his head forward. He fit, but only barely.

  The dumbwaiter began to move.

  Jared wasn’t s ure where he was.

  “Is the squirrel-thing even still in the dumbwaiter shaft?” Simon’s voice sounded tinny and distant.

  “I don’t know,” Jared said softly, listening to the echoes of his words. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Mallory pulled the rope. With a little jolt and some shaking, the dumbwaiter began to move Jared up inside the wall. “Can you see anything?”

  “No,” Jared called. He could hear the scratching sound, but it was distant. “It’s completely black.”

  Mallory winched the dumbwaiter back down. “There’s got to be a light around here somewhere.” She opened a few drawers until she found the stub of a white candle and a mason jar. Turning a knob on the stove, she lit the wick off one of the gas burners, dripped hot wax into the jar, and pressed the candle against it to hold it in place. “Here, Jared. Hold this.”

  “Mallory, I don’t even hear the thing anymore,” said Simon.

  “Maybe it’s hiding,” said Mallory, and yanked on the rope.

  Jared tried to tuck himself deeper into the dumbwaiter, but there was no room. He wanted to tell them that this was stupid and that he’d chickened out, but he said nothing. Instead, he let himself be raised into the darkness, holding the makeshift lantern.

  The metal box went up a few feet inside the wall. The light from the candle was a small halo, reflecting things erratically. The squirrel-thing could have been right next to him, almost touching him, and he would not have noticed it.

  “I don’t see anything,” he called down, but he wasn’t sure if anyone heard him.

  The ascent was slow. Jared felt like he couldn’t breathe. His knees were pressing against his chest, and his feet were cramping from being bent so long. He wondered if the candle was sucking up all the available oxygen.

  Then, with a jerk, the dumbwaiter stopped. Something scraped against the metal box.

  “It won’t go any farther,” Mallory called up the chute. “Do you see anything?”

  “No,” said Jared. “I think it’s stuck.”

  There was more scraping now, as though something was trying to claw through the top of the dumbwaiter. Jared yelped and tried to pound from the inside, hoping to frighten it off.

  Just as suddenly, the dumbwaiter slid up an extra few feet and came to a halt again, this time in a room dimly lit by moonlight from a single, small window.

  Jared scrambled out of the box. “I made it! I’m upstairs.”

  The room had a low ceiling, and the walls were covered in bookshelves. Looking around, he realized there was no door.

  All of a sudden, Jared wasn’t sure where he was.

  Jared looked around the room.

  Chapter Three

  IN WHICH There Are Many Riddles

  Jared looked around the room. It was a smallish library, with one huge desk in the center. On it was an open book and a pair of old-fashioned, round glasses that caught the candlelight. Jared walked closer. The dim glow illuminated one title at a time as he scanned the shelves. They were all strange: A Historie of Scottish Dwarves, A Compendium of Brownie Visitations from Around the World, and Anatomy of Insects and Other Flying Creatures.

  A collection of glass jars containing berries, dried plants, and one filled with dull river stones sat at the edge of the desk. Nearby, a watercolor sketch showed a little girl and a man playing on the lawn. Jared’s eyes fell on a note tossed on top of an open book, both coated in a thin layer of dust. The paper was yellowed with age, but handwritten on it was a strange little poem:

  In a man’s torso you will find

  My secret to all mankind

  If false and true can be the same

  You will soon know of my fame

  Up and up and up again

  Good luck dear friend

  He picked it up and read it through carefully. It was as though a message had been left here just for him. But by whom? What did the poem mean?

  He heard a shout from downstairs. “Mallory! Simon! What are you doing up?”

  Jared groaned. It just figured that Mom would get back from the store now.

  “There was a squirrel in the wall,” Jared could hear Mallory say.

  Their mother cut her off. “Where’s Jared?”

  Neither of his siblings said anything.

  “You bring that dumbwaiter down. If your brother is in there…”

  Jared ran over in time to watch the box disappear down into the wall. His candle choked on wax and sputtered from his sudden movement, but it didn’t go out.

  “See?” Simon said weakly.

  The dumbwaiter must have showed up, empty.

  “Well, where is he then?”

  “I don’t know,” Mallory said. “In bed, asleep?”

  Their mother sighed. “Well, go on, both of you, and join him. Now!”

  Jared listened to their retreating steps. Th
ey’d have to wait a while before they snuck back down to get him. That is, if they didn’t just figure that the dumbwaiter had taken him all the way upstairs. They’d probably be surprised not to find him in bed. How could they know he was trapped in a room without a door?

  There was a rustling behind him. Jared spun around. It came from the desk.

  As he held up the makeshift lamp, Jared saw that something had been scrawled in the dust of the desk. Something that wasn’t there before.

  Click clack, watch your back.

  Jared jumped, causing his candle to tilt. Running wax snuffed the flame. He stood in the darkness, so scared he could barely move. Something was here, in the room, and it could write!

  He backed toward the empty chute, biting the inside of his lip to keep from screaming. He could hear the rustling of bags downstairs as his mother unpacked groceries.

  “What’s there?” he whispered into the darkness. “What are you?”

  Only silence answered him.

  “I know you’re there,” Jared said.

  But there was no reply and no more rustling.

  Then he heard his mother on the stairs, a door, and nothing. Nothing but a silence so thick and heavy that it choked him. He felt that even breathing too loudly would give him away. Any moment the thing would be upon him.

  “What are you?”

  There was a creak from inside the wall. Startled, Jared dropped the jar, then realized it was only the dumbwaiter. He felt his way through the darkness.

  “Get in,” his sister whispered up the shaft.

  Jared squeezed into the metal box. He was so filled with relief that he barely noticed the ride down to the kitchen.

  As soon as he got out, he started speaking.

  “There was a library! A secret library with weird books. And something was in there—it wrote in the dust.”

  “Shhhh, Jared,” Simon said. “Mom’s going to hear us.”

  Jared held up the piece of paper with the poem on it. “Look at this. It has some kind of directions on it.”

  “Did you actually see anything?” Mallory asked.

  “I saw the message in the dust. It said ‘watch your back,’” Jared replied hotly.