YOU ARE SITTING ON ME.
Mr Penguin leapt up, his flippers suddenly a blur of digging action.
Within seconds, Colin popped out of the snow like a cork from a champagne bottle. Mr Penguin wiped ice from his friend’s frozen monobrow.
“HOORAY!” hooted Mr Penguin. “WE ARE ALL BACK TOGETHER AGAIN!”
He danced in the snow in a very giddy fashion.
However, this was a library unlike any they had ever seen before. It was nothing like his school library, Jonny though, which – on a good day – may contain a couple of books about the agricultural revolution and an encyclopaedia about growing up (with suitably patronizing ‘anatomical’ illustrations, including several pop-up bits).
No, this library was absolutely crammed with magic books. Tall books, zigzag-shaped books, books as small as playing cards; illustrated books, theoretical books; books about billiard balls, books about balloon animals, books about illusions, books about other books, books on books on books about other books; books stacked upright, books stacked sideways, upside-down books, books with fancy tassels – a proper hodgepodge of conjuring books; a dry-stone wall of books, all interlocking perfectly, filling every possible space.