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“The Book of Doors,” Cassie said, savoring the sound of it. She flicked through the book, her finger stopping on a random page. It was the page she had seen earlier, the sketch of the doorway with the dark room and the window looking out on flowers and sunshine. This time, however, there was no window. This time, through the sketcheddoorway, she saw a street and cobbles, the window of a bakery. It was the street she had just gazed upon, and Cassie’s mouth fell open in disbelief. She flicked through the pages again, trying to find the image she had seen earlier, but it wasn’t there.
“The book has changed,” she murmured to herself, excited by this revelation, excited by yet another impossibility. It felt almost as if the book was alive somehow or talking to her. “Look,” she said to Izzy, holding the book out and feeling herself getting hysterical. “Look at this image! This was a different picture before! Now it looks like that street!”
Izzy took the book and peered at it.
“It’s that street, isn’t it?” Cassie asked, needing Izzy to confirm what she was seeing.
“It might be,” she said cautiously, as if she didn’t want to admit something that was clearly impossible.
“Oh, come on,” Cassie said, taking the book back and looking at it again. “It’s definitely that street. But it was something different earlier. It’s changed.”
Cassie’s mind spun for a moment, her whole body trembling. “Is it magic?”
“A magic book,” Izzy said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Why not?” Cassie asked. “You saw what just happened.”
“If you’re so sure it was the book, do it again.” Izzy closed the door to the hallway and pointed at it. “Go on, make something else appear.”
Cassie thought about it, realizing that she wanted to do just as Izzy demanded.
Shewantedto open the door to another place again.
Shewantedto use the strange, wonderful book.
It was tantalizing her, offering something astonishing in a world of so little astonishment.
“Better get our coats,” Cassie said. “And you better go pee first.”
Magical Midnight Tour of Manhattan
“Where do you wanna go?” Cassie asked, standing in front of the door, her stomach somersaulting. Izzy had been to the toilet and had changed out of her pajamas and they had both put on coats and shoes. Cassie was holding the Book of Doors in her hand.
Izzy shrugged. “Not Italy,” she said. “Somewhere we can walk home from if we get stuck.”
“Right,” Cassie said. She thought about the bookstore, because it was her favorite place, a comfortable place, but then Izzy suggested something better.
“I know,” she said. “The roof terrace at the Library Hotel. Remember?”
Cassie did remember. The Library Hotel had been their favorite place to go for drinks after work, in the days before Izzy had left Kellner’s. They still went occasionally, but not as often as when they had worked together. It was a place Izzy loved because they could sit outside, surrounded by the towering buildings of Midtown Manhattan, drinking expensive cocktails and watching rich young people socializing. Cassie had loved the view, the opportunity to gaze out at all the windows of Manhattan.
“Yes,” Cassie said. “Good idea.”
“You pick a place too!” Izzy suggested. “We go to my choice and then your choice!”
Cassie smiled, liking the idea. “What, like a magical midnight tour of Manhattan?”
“I love it!” Izzy exclaimed, her eyes shining.
“Okay,” Cassie said, facing the door to the hallway again. “The bar at the Library Hotel.”
She took a moment, thinking about the bar at the hotel, the door to its roof terrace, gripping the Book of Doors in her hand. She nodded decisively, reached forward and pulled the door open, and saw only their hallway.
“Shit.”
“What happened?” Izzy asked. “What went wrong?”
“Like I know!”
