The Lost Story

by Meg Shaffer

Whatever this world was, whoever had made it for Skya and filled it with white stags and giants and impossible forests, they’d allowed in death and suffering as well. Maybe that was the rule. Maybe that was the deal. Maybe it was the price of magic. Maybe the price, sometimes, was too high.

Well, turns out it was a magic pencil. But you don’t really need a magic pencil to write a magic book. All books are magic. An object that can take you to another world without even leaving your room? A story written by a stranger and yet it seems they wrote it just for you or to you? Loving and hating people made out of ink and paper, not flesh and blood? Yes, books are magic. Maybe even the strongest magic there is.