{"product_id":"the-bootlace-magician-isbn-9780525552642","title":"The Bootlace Magician","description":"\u003cb\u003eWelcome back to Circus Mirandus . . . a place with magic so wondrous, you need to \u003ci\u003ebelieve\u003c\/i\u003e it to see it.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMicah Tuttle--magician in training--lives and works at Circus Mirandus alongside his guardian, the ancient and powerful Lightbender.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe circus is a place filled with dazzling fire shows, stubborn unicorns, and magicians from every corner of the world. And Micah is doing everything he can to prove he belongs there. When a dangerous enemy from the past threatens his new home, Micah will have to untangle the mystery of his own potent magic, and he'll have to do it fast. With trouble this deadly on its way, every magician will need to be ready to fight. Even the youngest.\"Marvelously entertaining.\"--\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003eCassie Beasley is from rural Georgia, where, when she's not writing, she helps out on the family pecan farm. She earned her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. \u003ci\u003eThe Bootlace Magician\u003c\/i\u003e is the sequel to her first novel, \u003ci\u003eCircus Mirandus\u003c\/i\u003e, which was a \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestseller and a \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Notable Children's Book. Her second book, \u003ci\u003eTumble \u0026amp; Blue\u003c\/i\u003e, was received to widespread critical acclaim.\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003ePrologue\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Idea was born in darkness.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt flashed to life deep, deep in the sea, in a place so far below the waves that the warmth of the sun was only a rumor. There, beneath the cold weight of the ocean, the Idea shone dazzling and new. The drifters and skitterers that lived in that black abyss fled from its light. And it was alone.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt had been born, as Ideas often are, much too soon. But it had been born, too, with a certainty, right at the center of itself, that it would not be alone forever.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOne day, Someone would understand the Idea. They would meet at the perfect Moment, and together, they would do great things. But their meeting would not come soon, and it could not be here, in this dark place.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Idea would have to go up, into the world, to wait.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt set out—a brilliant spark spiraling up and up toward the surface, toward its Someone, toward their destiny.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd also toward a hungry fish, which gulped it down in a single bite.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFortunately, Ideas are not digestible.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe tuna endured a few queasy hours, then it spat the spark of light back up and swam off to find a less troublesome lunch.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Idea was delighted by this experience. In the whole of its short life, nothing so interesting had ever happened to it. A fish, it decided, was a wonderful creature to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo, it grew fins. It figured out scales and gills. It gave\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eitself a lovely silver tail, and with a few experimental twitches, it was off—a tiny, gleaming dart of a fish heading for the waves above.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Idea-that-was-now-a-fish breached the surface with barely a ripple. It looked around.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHow bright it is up here! it thought, though the day was gloomy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt spied the rocky line of the nearby shore. Aha! it said to itself. I am supposed to go in that direction.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd so it did.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStanding on the pebbly beach, quite unaware of the fish heading toward him, was a boy. His name was Ephraim Tuttle, and he had come to the beach, as he often did, to write letters to his father, who was a soldier in the war overseas.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEphraim was used to the beach’s chilly breeze and its dark water and the steady clack of pebbles as the waves lapped onto shore. But he was not at all used to the strange thing that was happening around him now.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOnly moments ago, a great wind had swept up out of nowhere, blowing so fiercely that Ephraim had to lean into it to keep himself standing upright. But instead of whipping the waves into a froth, as it should have, the wind was pressing the whole ocean flat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFlat enough, Ephraim thought, to walk on. Flat enough, he hoped, that a determined son might be able to cross all the way to Europe to fetch his father back home.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe headed toward the water.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNow, the fish didn’t understand any of this. It couldn’t feel the wind underwater, and it couldn’t yet tell the difference between a boy and a barnacle. What it did know was that the creature it had seen on the beach would take it where it needed to go.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt felt the truth of this like a tug deep inside its fishy belly. That way to safety. That way to the future.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd so it swam toward shore, and it was pleased when Ephraim waded confidently into the ocean, wearing all his clothes and a pair of boots with leather laces tied into neat bows.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHello, the fish said when it reached the boots. Here I am! Pick me up.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe boots didn’t answer.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI am on a mission. The fish nudged one of the bootlaces with its nose. You are supposed to help me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut Ephraim’s feet didn’t speak the language of Ideas, and the boy himself had no way of knowing what was\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egoing on beneath the water’s surface. He felt wet and silly and disappointed, and—what was that sound?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEphraim tilted his head, listening.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA song drifted on the wind, one filled with pipes and drums. To Ephraim, the music sounded like an invitation; he decided to accept it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe turned his body, and his boots, back toward dry land.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eUnwilling to be left behind, the fish took matters into its own fins. It flicked its tail and wriggled itself inside Ephraim Tuttle’s left boot, which was just loose enough around the ankle for a very small sea creature’s comfort.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe tug in the fish’s belly was satisfied.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe two of them were headed out of the ocean and in the right direction, and beyond that, the fish did not worry. As it sloshed along in the boot, it went back to imagining its Someone.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey would meet at exactly the right Moment, in exactly the right way, and together, they would change everything. The fish believed in this the way people believe in the sunrise.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOf course, of course, of course, it thought. There is no other way for the world to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSeventy-five years later\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eChapter 1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCircus Mirandus did not sleep, but in the wee hours before sunrise, its music faded to a hush. The sound of the pipes became a breath. The drums thrummed low as a heartbeat. The crowds thinned, and many of the performers sought their beds.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eYet every night, a few determined children remained, and they found wonders aplenty.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSome explored the foggy twists and turns of the mist maze, while others sat by glowing pools in the circus’s nocturnal garden, sipping mugs of hot cocoa. And on the darkest nights, when the moon was hidden, almost everyone could be found lying in the grass on the midway, watching the magician Firesleight send her power aloft.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJust such a moonless night arrived one August, while the circus was in the middle of its South American tour. They had settled in Brazil a few days before, the dense vegetation of the Amazon rain forest parting to make room for the grassy meadow that surrounded the circus no matter where in the world it traveled. Now the noises of the jungle—whistle, shriek, and hoot—echoed across the grounds, mingling with applause as Firesleight lifted her arms skyward and flames blossomed in the air.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAt the magician’s command, deep orange fire skated along the peaked roofs, casting strange shadows against the brightly colored tent fabric. It swirled around and around before condensing into white-hot motes that twirled and danced with the fluttering pennants.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd that was only the beginning. The fire show was a spectacle no child would dream of missing. Except . . .\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOne boy at Circus Mirandus wasn’t paying any attention to the performance at all.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eInside Mr. Head’s Menagerie, Micah Tuttle sat with his legs crossed on top of a tall wooden barrel, his back resting against the glass wall of an aquarium that encircled the tent’s huge center pole. His hands were busy, fingers tugging and tweaking an elaborate knot he had tied into a strip of aged leather. When he bent his head low over the project, his brown bangs fell into his eyes so that he had to shake them out of the way to see properly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Almost done,” he said, though no human being was nearby to hear him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAround Micah, the air was warm with the smell of scales and fur, sawdust and hay. The menagerie’s nocturnal animals bustled, carrying on as usual despite the fact that their admirers had all abandoned them in favor of Firesleight’s performance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe pangolins rolled themselves into balls for their nightly bowling tournament. The funny fox laughed at its own jokes. And a trio of bioluminescent bush babies were trying to steal one of the treat buckets that Mirandus Head, the circus’s manager, kept secured on pegs around the walls of the tent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut as flames raced through the air a few feet above the menagerie’s open skylights, the animals paused. Eyes all over the tent blinked shut at the sudden brightness. Heads tilted up, and large ears swiveled to catch the distant sound of cheering from the midway.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah didn’t look away from his work.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAs the first round of applause faded, he put the finishing touches on the leather strip. He ran his hands over every turn and twist in the knot, then he made a small adjustment, picking at a particular loop with his fingernails until it was arranged to his liking.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFinally, he smiled and maneuvered himself around to face the aquarium. Light filtered through the water, greenish and wavering, and when the enormous silver fish in the tank swam past, it cast a shadow over Micah’s face.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m trying something new,” he said, pressing the knot to the glass. “I hope you like it. It’s my first time tying memories for an animal.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe fish didn’t answer him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAn engraved bronze plaque was embedded into the aquarium, just above Micah’s barrel. Like all the circus’s signs, the engraving changed to match the local language. But even though Micah couldn’t read Portuguese, he knew the words by heart.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish: A rare specimen\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecourtesy of Ephraim Tuttle\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe slid his fingers over the plaque, tracing the letters of his grandfather’s name.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah had grown up hearing stories about Circus Mirandus, but he’d never dreamed they were true. The mysterious Lightbender, the beautiful Bird Woman, the little fish that had traveled to the circus in a boot—they had seemed like characters in a wonderful fairy tale.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen Grandpa Ephraim had found out he was dying. And Micah had found out that the fairy tale was real.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Neither of us would be here without him,” he said to Fish, gesturing with the knotted leather strip. “I’ve explained it all in this knot. When you touch it, you’ll understand. You’ll see why we should be friends.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn the three months he’d been living at Circus Mirandus, Micah had had a lot of conversations with Fish. Whenever nightmares about Grandpa Ephraim’s death drove him out of bed, he headed for the menagerie. It had seemed like the perfect solution. Micah didn’t want to bother his new guardian every time he had a bad dream, and he’d assumed that Fish, who wasn’t very popular with the crowds, could use the company.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah had thought that the two of them might have a special connection because of Grandpa Ephraim, but unfortunately, the relationship was beginning to seem a little one-sided.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish swam past again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You remember my grandpa’s boot, don’t you?” Micah said. “You remember how he followed the music to the circus, and he gave you to the ticket taker? To Geoffrey?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish didn’t pay attention to him. Or the knot. And he didn’t show any hint of recognition for Geoffrey the ticket taker, even though they’d been living at the same circus for seventy-five years.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah was disappointed but not surprised. No matter how long he talked or what stories he shared, Fish never responded with more than an occasional flick of his tail.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFor a while, Micah had assumed that Fish, being a fish, just wasn’t great at expressing himself. But as time passed, he was forced to admit that Fish seemed to enjoy his company about as much as the company of the barrel he was sitting on.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe hoped the knot he’d tied would change that.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe had picked the strip of leather because it matched Grandpa Ephraim’s old bootlace, which he wore as a bracelet around his own wrist. He’d spent hours and hours trying to put everything about himself and his grandfather into the knot in a way that a fishy brain might understand.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe could feel the buzz of magic in the leather right now. If he focused, he could even hear Grandpa Ephraim’s voice saying, I gave them a fish for a ticket! Can you believe it? Oh, Micah, I hope one day you get to see the circus. I hope one day you’ll find a magic of your own.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe shifted his grip on the knot, and another memory sparked against his fingers.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Bird Woman. Victoria. She—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah shook his head and told the knot to be quiet. It had seemed important to include the whole story for Fish, but that didn’t mean he wanted to think about his evil, long-lost grandmother right now.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA sudden rush of heat caught his attention, and he looked up to see flames washing over the menagerie’s skylights again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah had decided to give Fish the knot during Firesleight’s show for a couple of reasons. For one thing, he didn’t want to tell anyone why he had made something so personal for a fish, and for another, if the magic just didn’t work, he would rather not have an audience. He was doing his best to prove that he could fit in here at the circus, but that was tough when he had only just turned eleven and most of the other magicians had been mastering their power for centuries.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe menagerie was usually empty during the fire show, and right now, nobody was around except for the creatures. Even the manager was gone. Micah glanced across the tent toward the secret seam in the scarlet fabric that served as the door to Mr. Head’s office.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was closed. There would never be a more private moment.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah climbed off the barrel, gripping the leather strip tightly in his fist. Then, he took a deep breath, drew his arm back, and tossed the knot up and over the rim of the aquarium.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt plopped into the tank and sank slowly through the clear, greenish water.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah had timed the throw well. Fish was about to pass by on another circumnavigation, and the knot would brush across one of his fins.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat will be enough. It has to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSuddenly, Fish stopped swimming.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Fish!” Micah protested, pressing his face to the glass. “What are you doing?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish eyed the knot.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Touch it!” Micah said encouragingly. “Just with your fin. Don’t let it sink to the bottom.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe flapped one of his arms like a fin, hoping that would give Fish the right idea, but Fish didn’t budge.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Come on,” Micah begged as the knot drifted down. “Please, please touch it.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAs if he’d heard, Fish swished his tail until the knot was right in front of his nose. But he didn’t brush his fin against it. Instead, he did something Micah had never seen him do before. He opened his mouth wide as a shark’s.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Wait a second,” said Micah.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish did not wait a second. He swallowed the knot before Micah could even blink.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMicah stared into one of his big silvery eyes. “Why would you do that?” he said slowly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish didn’t eat; it was the weirdest thing about him. But now, he was floating in place, apparently considering the flavor of Micah’s offering.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You shouldn’t have eaten it,” Micah said. “It wasn’t food.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe had no clue what a magic-imbued piece of leather might do to Fish. He had tied dozens of knots and bracelets, filled with hundreds of memories, but he’d never once wondered what might happen if somebody swallowed them.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSome of Micah’s knots were permanent. He didn’t want the important ones to snap without his permission, so they didn’t. He’d figured out the trick of making them thoroughly indestructible.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSo the knot Fish had just eaten wouldn’t dissolve in his stomach.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe’s so big, Micah thought, worry growing in him. And it’s only a little knot. Why is he so still?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Don’t you want to swim in circles some more?” he asked hopefully.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFish was frozen in place, his eyes wide and staring.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Puffin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300493086949,"sku":"NP9780525552642","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525552642.jpg?v=1767738494","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-bootlace-magician-isbn-9780525552642","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}