"Hurry, Logan!" Christie called. "We're going to be late for school!"

Thirteen-year-old Christie Morris raced down the stairs and burst into the dining room, breathless. Her older brother Logan was sitting there rather calmly with a smirk on his face.

"Well, good morning to you, little sister," he greeted. A hint of laughter was in his voice.

Christie rolled her eyes. "I was so worried when I couldn't find you in our room! Why'd you have to scare me like that?"

"Look, Christie, I thought we had to rush. Aren't we late for school?"

"Okay, Logan, we aren't that late," she admitted.

"Knew it," the fifteen-year-old boy yelled with a triumphant grin. "Anyway, how much longer do we have until the bus gets here?"

Christie paused for a moment and checked her watch. "Uh, ten minutes."

She looked outside the window. It was a beautiful morning. Faint but cheery birdsong strained through the closed window. Sunlight filled the room.

"Christie? You there?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," Christie said.

"'Kay. So I have a really important secret for you. You can't tell any of your friends." His voice lowered to a whisper.

"What about Mom and Dad?" Christie said.

Their parents had left a couple of hours earlier for work, so she naturally became concerned when her older brother now mentioned he had a secret. She'd never hidden anything from her folks.

"They already know. They told me about it," he said matter-of-factly.

"Sounds good. Tell me. But keep it quick."

The teenage girl checked her watch.

Good, we have enough time if he keeps it short, she thought.

"There's a world—a hidden world—right in our house. And guess what? It's right in our room!" Logan was grinning ear-to-ear.

She gave him a quizzical look but said nothing.

"You know how there's a bookshelf—like, a really old bookshelf—in our room? Well, if you remove a certain book, then you'll access the portal. The portal to Libraria."

This seemed interesting to Christie. She listened eagerly to the rest of Logan's explanation. Their mom had discovered it as a little girl. When she grew up and married their dad, she bought the home so she could return to Libraria. But she was too old. Now, the siblings were old enough to visit their mom's world.

Once he finished, Christie spoke up.

"Look, Logan, I think you're making this all up. But after school, we can check to see if we can access this 'portal.'"

Her brother nodded in agreement. The two kids ran outside just as the bus pulled up outside of their house.

~~~

Christie could barely contain her excitement as the bus pulled up in front of her and her brother's home.

"All right, Logan. Take me to our room, show me the bookshelf with that special book, and lead me to Libraria," she demanded.

"But, Christie, I've never been there," he protested.

Christie huffed.

"Christiana, a little patience, please?" he pleaded.

She cringed at being called by her full first name. However, she did not bother him again. The children practically flew up the stairs and into their room. Then her brother darted towards the shelf and yanked on a book titled The History of the Library (a rather queer choice for what was supposedly the siblings' only gateway to the world of Libraria).

"There!" Logan declared.

The shelf suddenly whirled around three times before sliding away to reveal a portal of swirling bluish light, which seemed to call to the kids.

Now, you must understand that this truly happened to them. It wasn't just a vivid dream conjured up by an overactive imagination. I learned this story from Christie herself.

"Okay, little sis. You first." He smirked.

With a pounding heart, Christie tucked a strand of loose chocolate brown hair behind her ear and stepped into the light, followed by Logan.

"LOGAN! DON'T LEAVE ME!" she screamed as the light whisked them away in a mighty gust of wind.

Milliseconds later, the brother and sister collapsed onto the greenest grass they'd ever seen.

"Is this it?" she said, panting.

"Guess so. Welcome to Libraria," said Logan.

I wonder how long it'll take before someone finds us, she thought

As it turned out, her question was soon answered. A few minutes after they had arrived, a radiant, pale-skinned maiden approached them. Her hair was red, yet it wasn't anywhere near being the shade of a carrot, as is the misfortunate representation of redheads. Christie thought it looked more like fire. It flowed down her back in soft waves and ended at her waist. Her eyes, shining with truth and purity, were the color of peridot. Light freckles were sprinkled on her cheeks. She appeared to be nineteen years of age.

"Greetings, strangers. I am Aoife Castfarne, the daughter of Lord and Lady Justus Castfarne. I bid you welcome to the land of Libraria. Tell me, whence do you hail? You must be foreigners and most weary from your journey to this fair land," she said kindly.

Logan bowed while Christie dipped into what she hoped was considered a graceful curtsey.

"Fair madam, we hail from the land of Terra, which is indeed distant from Libraria," the boy replied. Christie looked at him gratefully. Her brother's Latin studies had indeed paid off, thankfully. She hoped he could continue the courtly speech until they were alone again.

"Madam, I have a question for you, if you will take it," the younger girl started.

Aoife laughed. "Speak, young stranger. I fear not a mere question."

"H-how did you know my noble brother and I were foreigners?" Christie asked.

"I could tell by your garments and accent, of course," said the maiden.

Both children gazed down at their clothes.

Gee, we're still in our school uniforms! At least we don't look so out of place.

"Indeed, madam, we come from a distant land and are most weary," explained Logan. "Know you of any inns we may lodge in for the night?"

"An inn?! No, you shall not stay in an inn. You are youths—and of noble birth as well, for your speech is refined and suited for the court. Instead, you shall spend the night in my father's castle. He is a merciful yet just man who will not turn away any man who comes to his door. I shall arrange for some more suitable clothing for you also," the maid offered.

Logan and Christie breathed a sigh of relief.

The maiden suddenly gave a little cry. "Oh! If it so pleases you, strangers, forgive me. I have forgotten to request your names."

"Madam, it is no worry to us. I am Logan, son of Lord and Lady Conrad Morris, and this is my sister, the fair Christiana," he said.

Christie glared at her brother with her piercing dark brown—nearly black—eyes before reluctantly accepting her fate. Smiling sunnily, she curtseyed once again.

"Pray tell," Aoife began, "what business brings you to Libraria?"

Christie panicked. Oh, come on, Logan! I know how much you hate lying, but you can tell a good tale if necessary. Use that skill, or else we're so doomed!

"You see, madam, we were shipwrecked on the cost of this fair land on our way to one of my father's castles in another country. For a day now, we have been walking all over the land, attempting to find a compassionate man, whether noble or peasant, who would give us succor," Logan explained. His voice carried a soothing charm to it, almost hypnotic.

The lady blinked twice before gasping. "Oh, how horrid! My father will certainly allow you to stay."

She believes Logan?! Well, that's good.

"I thank you kindly, madam." Christie imitated her brother's noble-sounding accent nearly perfectly. She stretched and yawned. It had been a long day at school.

"Please, do call me Aoife!" Aoife laughed. "There is no need for ceremony until we reach my father's court. Christiana, are you quite well?" A note of concern was in her melodious voice.

"I am well, Aoife, only ready to lie down in bed for some time. How far is the castle?" She smiled her most charming smile.

"Not very far—indeed, it is but past this meadow."

Logan looked relieved. So did Christie. Following the young woman, they soon arrived at a massive stone castle that appeared to be straight out of the history books. It was tall and sturdy, with windows covering the structure. Four great towers—if one could call them that—soared above the structure. Banners displaying the Castfarne coat-of-arms were proudly hung across the walls. The coat of arms was red and blue diagonally striped with the emblem of a yellow cross couped. A golden helmet topped the shield, while peach-and-white curlicues surrounded the background. Emblazoned on the bottom in gold letters was the inscription "Ad Maiorem Dei Gloriam."

"To the greater glory of God," Logan translated.

The figure of a man appeared on one of the towers. "The older Lady Castfarne is approaching with guests! Lower the drawbridge, men!"

At the sound of his voice, the wooden drawbridge was gradually lowered over the moat to let the three pass.

As they entered, a man dressed in livery bearing the coat of arms bowed to them. "My lady, you have returned. Who are your youthful guests?"

"Greetings, Kamden. These are Logan and Christiana, the children of Lord Conrad Morris of the country of Terra. Would you fetch Ofelia and Gormal? I desire them to serve as lady-in-waiting and gentleman-in-waiting to these young nobles. Tell them to bring some fresh clothes for the youths." Christie couldn't help but notice the authoritative yet gentle tone Aoife used with what the young teen assumed was a servant. "Also, I want you to tell Father about these two. They need lodging, and I have offered my abode."

"I like this arrangement," Logan whispered to his sister. "Having my own servant—never dreamed that would happen."

Christie giggled. "Wait till you have to wear medieval clothes. At least, I'm guessing based on Aoife's outfit, that's what they wear around here."

"Oh, I will rock those." 

Their happy conversation was interrupted by a girl about Christie's age. She had red hair worn in a long braid down her back and shining chestnut eyes. Her warm ivory skin was covered in freckles. She wore a long-sleeved green dress with a ribbon belt. The collar was a darker color with a design of leaves. A crisscross pattern was on the sleeves. While she did not carry herself with the same confident air as Aoife, anyone would know she too was of noble blood. The siblings couldn't help but notice a striking resemblance between her and the young noblewoman they had met earlier.

"Aoife!" she exclaimed. "You have come back from your walk so soon?"

"Yes, Ríona, I have. And I come with guests. Lord Logan, Lady Christiana, I have the honor to present my sister Ríona, who is four years my younger." 

"So she is fifteen years of age?" Christie asked. The girl looked like she was twelve or thirteen. "Yes, I am," said Ríona. Her face looked perplexed as she tried to realize how the newcomer had correctly guessed her age. 

"Well, your sister stated you were four years younger. I simply assumed Aoife was nineteen, making you fifteen," Christie explained. 

Ríona nodded her head in understanding. "You must be the Lady Christiana, for the other stranger is a lad. I am honored to meet you. How long will you be staying?I have always desired the company of another maiden—it can be rather dull living with no other child or youth of similar age to me besides my sister. Once you are rested, perhaps you should like to see the rest of the castle?"

"I should indeed like to. I thank you for your kindness." 

"Come along now, my lady," a blue-eyed woman called, curtseying. "I am Ofelia, your lady-in-waiting. You must be presentable for the lord of the house."

At the same time, a man summoned Logan to his room for the same purpose.

So that's Gormal. I sure wish they didn't all have to have such odd names.

Trailing after Ofelia, she swiftly walked down the halls, mouth agape with wonder.