A World Without Heroes by Brandon Mull Page A

home and claiming authorship as a joke. How could it be plagiarism if the material you borrowed came from another world? His English teacher would faint!
    Jason was perusing an interesting manuscript called These Short Lives , which presented a supposedly factual account of a race of people whose lifespan was only two years, when a big dog with long white fur came into view around a corner. Jason closed the book. The dog just stood there, a juicy pink tongue lolling out. Jason approached cautiously, sinking a hand into the silky fur. “Good boy,” he said in a special voice reserved for canines. “You’re a good boy. You don’t want to maul me, do you?” Petting the animal made him wonder how his own dog was doing back home.
    The dog walked away, then stopped to look back. A shiny silver bell dangling from the collar tinkled softly when the dog moved. “You want me to follow?” Jason asked, setting the book down.
    The dog led him along a direct route back to the Contemplation Chamber. Dinner awaited on the table. It looked much like lunch, except that these mushrooms were yellow and shaped like stocking caps.
    Jason took his seat across from the loremaster and began eating. Hermie was not present.
    “That is quite a lock on the door to the upper level,” Jason said around a buttery mouthful of mushroom.
    The loremaster froze with a bite halfway to his mouth.
    “Where would a guy keep a combination to a lock like that?” Jason asked after swallowing.
    “You are certainly a forward youth, if nothing else,” the loremaster fussed. “The upper level is forbidden. That includes me.”
    “Did you design the door?”
    “No.”
    “Who did? The Unknown Designer?”
    The loremaster shrugged.
    “You know the combination, don’t you? What kind of librarian would be totally locked out of part of his own building?”
    “Would you care to sample a bubblefruit hybrid I produced?”
    “I repeat my question.”
    The loremaster held up one of the oblong, translucent fruits Jason had noticed in the atrium. “The pure bubblefruit is virtually invisible. I mixed this one with a qualine. It tastes rather pleasant.”
    “I’ll stay here beyond tomorrow if you tell me the combination.”
    The loremaster raised his eyebrows. “If you were to trespass in the upper level, I would have to throw you out. If that is your design, I would prefer you depart at once.”
    Jason had lost interest in eating. The loremaster took a bite.
    “You don’t need to give it to me,” Jason said with all the nonchalance he could muster. “Just tell me how to get the combination. A little clue. I’m only curious about the door. I’ve never seen a lock like that one.”
    The loremaster eyed him uncertainly. “A sudden interest in locks, is it? Very well, if you are determined. I have offered ample warning. A book called The Life I Have Known may contain a clue.”
    “How do I find the book?”
    “I’ll have it delivered to your room.”
    Jason returned to his food. He bit into the bubblefruit hybrid. The inside was syrupy, but sweet and good. Greenish fluid dribbled down his chin. He finished with a slice of blue root pie.
    Afterward, while Hermie cleaned up, the loremaster escorted Jason to a bedroom. The austere chamber contrasted with the lavish architecture prominent elsewhere in the building. A small cot, a stool, a simple table, and a dresser topped with a laving basin were the only furnishings. Bare walls, bare floor, no windows.
    Once he was alone, Jason blew out his single fat candle, plunging the room into darkness. Somewhere far off he heard the faint jingle of a bell. Taking a seat on his cot, Jason got out his cell phone, the glow from the screen pushing back the darkness. He reread his messages. The battery was nearly dead.
    Jason wished Matt or Tim were with him. They had been his best friends for years. Matt was the most loyal person Jason had ever met, and Tim was hilarious. If they were here, Jason doubted he would feel