The old supply cupboard at the back of Class 2C smelled of dusty paper and forgotten things. Most children walked past it without a second glance, but Alfie noticed everything.
"There's something weird about that cupboard," he whispered to Charlie during morning register.
Charlie pushed her glasses up her nose and frowned. "Weird how? Weird like 'there might be spiders' weird, or weird like 'we should definitely stay away' weird?"
"Neither," said Alfie, grinning. "Weird like 'there's a door behind it that shouldn't exist' weird."
Before Charlie could respond, Mr. Daley clapped his hands at the front of the classroom. "Right then, Year Five! This week we're starting our space topic. Who can tell me about the ancient Greeks and the stars?"
Alfie noticed something strange. As Mr. Daley spoke the word "stars," a faint golden light flickered from the gap between the supply cupboard and the wall. He blinked. Had he imagined it?
"The Greeks named the constellations!" called out Maya from the back row. She was always answering questions about space. Her bedroom ceiling was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, and she'd brought in her telescope for show-and-tell three times already.
"Excellent, Maya!" Mr. Daley smiled, and for just a moment, Alfie could have sworn his teacher glanced toward the supply cupboard too. "The ancient astronomers looked up at the same stars we see today and found pictures in them. Bears, hunters, dragons..."
The golden light pulsed again. Brighter this time.
At break time, Alfie grabbed Charlie's arm. "We need to check behind that cupboard."
"Why do I always get dragged into your investigations?" Charlie sighed, but she followed him anyway. She always did, even though she kept a small notebook full of "Safety Rules for Alfie's Silly Ideas."
The classroom was empty. Mr. Daley had wandered off to the staffroom, leaving his astronomy book open on his desk. Alfie thought that was rather convenient.
Together, they pushed the heavy cupboard aside. Cobwebs stretched and snapped. Charlie made a small disgusted noise.
And there it was.
A door.
It was made of dark wood, older than anything else in the school, carved with swirling patterns that looked almost like... stars. A brass handle shaped like a crescent moon gleamed despite the dust.
"That's impossible," Charlie whispered. "The wall's supposed to be solid brick. I checked the building plans when we did our architecture project."
"Impossible or not," said Alfie, reaching for the handle, "it's here."
"WAIT!" Charlie grabbed his wrist. She pulled out her notebook and scribbled frantically. "Rule One: Don't open mysterious doors without a plan. Rule Two: Always have an exit strategy. Rule Three—"
But Alfie had already touched the handle.
The door burst open with a rush of warm air that smelled of sea salt and olive trees. Golden light poured out, wrapping around them like a blanket.
And then the door began to pull.
"Alfie!" Charlie shrieked, grabbing onto his jumper as their feet left the ground.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING?" shouted a third voice.
Maya had come back for her pencil case. She stood frozen in the doorway of Class 5D, eyes wide as saucers, watching her classmates get sucked into a cupboard.
"Maya, run!" Charlie yelled.
But Maya didn't run. Instead, her curiosity got the better of her, and she lunged forward, catching Alfie's trailing shoelace just as all three of them tumbled through the impossible door.
They landed with a thump on hard, sun-baked ground.
The school was gone. The cupboard was gone. They were lying on a marble terrace overlooking a city of white buildings and blue sea, under a sky full of stars—even though moments ago it had been ten o'clock in the morning.
And standing over them, holding a brass instrument and wearing flowing robes, was an old man with a long beard and very surprised eyes.
"Children?" he said in a language that somehow made perfect sense. "Falling from the sky? Most irregular. Most irregular indeed."
Alfie noticed three small badges pinned to their jumpers that definitely hadn't been there before, glowing softly.
"Um," said Charlie, clutching her safety notebook, "where exactly are we?"
The old man smiled and gestured to the stars above.
"Where else, young travellers? You are in Alexandria. And I am Ptolemy. Now tell me—what do you know about the heavens?"