The Books of Magic #3: The Children's Crusade (AER) Chapter One I wish I could tell Molly all of what's going on. But how can I? I can't exactly say "Sorry, Moll, but I've been kind of busy being attacked by weird and not always human strangers and finding out my dad's not my dad but actually this bird guy, and, oh yes, there was that little bit there where I nearly died but saved all of Faerie." Still, she's the one I usually tell everything to—everything I can, that is. The other stuff, well, that's between me and you. Oh man! Now I'm talking to a bloody journal! Anyway. She was really great when I went to her with that big news—the dad-not-being-my-dad part. Only what I haven't told her about is the magic. And that's the biggest whammy of them all. So while she knows that my mother was pregnant when she married Dad—I mean, Mr. Hunter—she doesn't know that my real father was a guy who could turn into a bird. Or that I've been back and forth between worlds, visiting the land of Faerie, where my real father lives. Tim looked down at his journal and bit the end of his pencil. He scratched out the last word he'd written and replaced it with "lived." He sat back hard against his desk chair and shut his eyes behind his glasses. "It's not fair," he murmured. "In fact, it bloody well rots." Tim hadn't simply visited Faerie that last time—he had actually saved the entire alternate world from the grip of the evil creature known as the manticore. It was in performing that little act of heroism that he'd gotten himself killed, although thanks to some magic bargaining, it was Tamlin who wound up permanently dead. Tamlin, the Queen's Falconer, who also happened to be Tim's real father, had sacrificed his life so Tim could live, performing a spell that allowed him to trade places with Tim, who was near death. It meant Tim would never get any answers to the enormous questions that pounded in his brain. It made everything so confusing. But Tim was also intensely grateful. He knew he would be dead right now if it hadn't been for what Tamlin had done. How am I ever going to sort things out? Tim wondered. Like, how did he ever meet my mum? It was awfully difficult for Tim to picture his mother and Tamlin together. Tim didn't imagine that they'd met at some sort of singles gathering, like groups had at the community center. Not likely that there would have been a special "humans and birds" night. That brought up another question: Did his mum even know that she had gotten herself pregnant by a guy who spent part of his time as a hawk and lived full-time in Faerie? There were no answers. Only more questions. And the fact that Tim had recently discovered that he had the potential to become the most powerful magician of his time didn't help. After that, all bloody hell had broken loose: He'd been attacked, admired, confused, and amazed in an extremely compressed amount of time. If Tamlin were still here, he could help me understand my magic, Tim thought wistfully. That's kind of what a dad does, isn't it? Helps you figure out who you are and how to be in the world. Tim snorted. Not that I would know what a dad does. He cocked his head, listening. Yup, the telly was still blaring downstairs. That was how the bloke he previously believed was his father—Mr. Hunter—spent most of his time, since the car accident that had killed Tim's mum and taken one of his father's arms. "Magic." Tim stood up and paced his small room. If only he understood his powers better. Or understood what it really meant to have all this potential. And while I'm making wishes , Tim thought, it would be really great if the whole world wasn't out to get me . It wasn't just the magical world that was fraught with danger and enemies—his teachers seemed to be on his case constantly these days, too. He shut his journal and pulled his algebra test from his backpack. "Maybe I have been a little distracted," he muttered, glaring at the bright red C- at the top of the page. "But who could blame me?" He didn't think a single other bloke in school was dealing with quite as much as he was. Maybe he should spill it all to Molly. He could use an ally. Okay. Maybe he'd risk it—surely she'd understand. He grabbed a jacket and bounded down the stairs. Knowing he was going to finally have someone to talk to about this whole magic thing gave him energy to spare. So what if he didn't have any idea what words to use to convince Molly he wasn't completely mad. Whatever he said, he knew Molly would listen. And if she decided he was a loon after all, well, then, she wasn't the kind of friend he thought she was in the first place. "I'm going out, Dad," Tim called as he passed the dark living room. His dad gazed at the flickering light on the TV screen. "You're missing a good one, Tim," his dad said without looking up. "Come watch this girl dance." Mr. Hunter liked those big movie musicals from the old days—the ones filled with pretty girls kicking their legs in unison or tap-dancing on pianos or some such. "No thanks, Dad," Tim said. Mr. Hunter finally glanced up and gave Tim a small smile. Not too long ago, he had confirmed Tim's suspicions, admitting that Tim's mother had already been pregnant by another man ... The Books of Magic #3: The Children's Crusade (AER) . Copyright © by Carla Jablonski. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Children's Crusade by Carla Jablonski, Neil Gaiman, John Bolton All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
