Part 4
Doon maps, Lina decodes — Pipeworks, river, door point underground, where a stranger holds a key, as Granny fails.
Mapping the PipeworksRattled by the long blackout, Doon stops wasting his shifts. He walks the Pipeworks with his map, leaving small trail markers where the map runs out, filling a jar with insects, and noting a locked closet, a hatch in a tunnel roof, and marked rocks near the river. His temper still gets away from him.
The disordered libraryAt home he takes an electric outlet apart and learns nothing, so he tries the library — and finds no order: unsorted shelves, no catalog, and old sayings full of words naming things nobody in Ember can identify. Lina finds him there.
Three wordsIn Ch.9 the two bend over her chewed page, matching surviving strokes against the gaps and arguing over the missing words; three readable ones — Pipeworks, river, door — convince them the sheet matters enormously. The next evening Lina slips underground, and in a roped-off tunnel they watch a lurching stranger unlock a metal door, vanish inside, and come out with a bulging sack: somebody already has a key.
Granny's last nightThen Ch.10 turns the city's failures personal. Granny is gravely ill, Dr. Tower admits the medicine is nearly gone, and Granny wakes only to ask whether they found it. Lina says yes. She draws with Poppy on can labels — buildings under a sky she colors blue — and that night, with the lights dark, Granny calls out and Lina cannot see her face.
| Section | What you will practice |
|---|---|
| Vocabulary | Archive words: fragment, legible, decipher, conjecture, brittle… |
| Literary Elements | A page full of holes: dramatic irony, gapped text, and a blue-sky drawing |
| Cross-Curricular | Record-keeping and archives: why paper decays and how gaps get filled |
| Ch. | What happens |
|---|---|
| 8 | Explorations — still shaken by the long blackout, Doon refuses to waste an hour: he maps unfamiliar stretches of the Pipeworks, drops small objects as trail markers, gathers insects, loses his temper with mocking coworkers, and notes a locked closet, a ceiling hatch, and marked rocks near the river; at home he takes an outlet apart and understands nothing, so he goes to the library hunting anything written about fire — and finds unsorted shelves and old words naming things nobody in Ember can identify. |
| 9 | The Door in the Roped-Off Tunnel — Doon comes to Lina’s room and the two bend over the chewed page together, matching surviving letters against the size of the gaps and arguing over what the missing words might be; a handful of readable words — Pipeworks, river, door — convinces them the sheet matters enormously. The next evening Lina slips into the Pipeworks, and in a roped-off tunnel they watch a lurching stranger unlock a metal door, disappear inside, and come out with a bulging sack. |
| 10 | Blue Sky and Goodbye — Granny is gravely ill. Dr. Tower comes and admits the city’s medicine is nearly gone, prescribing soup and cool cloths. Granny surfaces once to ask whether they found it, and Lina says yes so she can rest. Next day Lina draws with Poppy on the backs of can labels — buildings under a sky she colors blue. That night Granny calls out; the lights are dark, and Lina cannot see her face. By morning Granny is gone. |
ⓘ The vocabulary words in this list are selected to help you understand and complete this workbook. Some may not appear verbatim in the original novel.

- Doon searches the library shelves for old records.
- Doon maps new stretches of the Pipeworks and gathers insects.
- Granny dies in the night while the city lights are out.
- In the roped-off tunnel, a stranger unlocks the door with a key.
- Lina and Doon compare the chewed page’s surviving letters.
Think back over these chapters. A boy walks tunnels nobody bothers with, dropping a bolt here and a bent nail there so he can find his way back, filling a jar with insects that have no names. Above him, a girl spreads a ruined page across a table and counts the empty spaces, measuring holes the way you might measure a wound. Two heads over one sheet, arguing: could that be a letter, or only a shadow? Then a roped-off passage, a stranger who should not have a key, and a sack carried away into the dark. And at the end of it all, a room where the lamp will not hold, and a voice calling a name that its owner cannot see.
Every archive begins with the same problem: paper does not want to last. From the mid-nineteenth century onward, most books and documents were made from wood pulp treated with acidic sizing, and that acid slowly attacks the fibers that give a sheet its strength. Decade by decade the page yellows, darkens at its edges, and finally turns brittle, until a careless thumb can snap off a corner. Archivists therefore treat storage as a preservation tool: steady temperature and humidity, low light, acid-free folders and boxes, and shelving that lifts records off the floor. Nothing halts decay completely, and good storage only slows the clock.
Storage alone does not make a document usable; an archive is also a system of description. Each record receives a location, a catalog entry, and a finding aid that tells a reader what a collection contains and where a single sheet sits inside it. Fragile originals are also copied — photographed, microfilmed, or digitized — so that researchers can consult a surrogate while the original rests in the dark. Duplication matters because a document that survives in only one copy is one accident away from vanishing completely.
When damage has already happened, archivists become detectives, working to salvage whatever meaning remains. A torn or chewed page leaves a lacuna — a gap where text once stood — and filling it is disciplined guesswork, never invention. Specialists measure the empty space to estimate how many letters vanished and compare the ink strokes still legible with known handwriting. A reading proposed on that evidence is called a conjecture and is printed inside brackets, so that later readers can always tell supplied text from original text. An honest reconstruction shows its seams, leaving the gap visible for whoever finds better evidence.
“Knowledge that cannot be located is, for practical purposes, as lost as knowledge nobody ever wrote down.”
This writing task is optional and is not part of your auto-graded score. The feedback below checks only the basics — length, spelling, and grammar — not whether your ideas are right or wrong. It is meant for classroom discussion and creative practice, so feel free to use your imagination!
Writing Task — Part 4 “A Page Full of Holes”
Lina and Doon try to rebuild a message from a page that has been chewed into fragments. Write about a time you had to figure something out from incomplete information — a half-heard conversation, a torn note, a photograph with no explanation. What did you actually know, what did you guess, and how did you tell the two apart? 6–10 sentences. End with the one thing you still are not sure about.
No right or wrong — close the screen and tell someone nearby what happened in this part. Can’t find anyone? Tell yourself out loud. The moment you teach it, you truly understand it.

Part 4 Complete!
You finished Chapters 8–10 of The City of Ember.
Here are your auto-graded results:
The best last step is to teach it. In your own words, explain what happened — retell a favorite scene, teach a character’s big choice, or sum up the main idea for a parent, friend, or classmate. When you can teach it clearly, you truly own it.
Independent study guide by Garden Heights. Not affiliated with or endorsed by Jeanne DuPrau. Contains original analysis only; no text from the novel is reproduced. Reference text: This workbook follows Jeanne DuPrau’s classic text (the standard Puffin edition sold worldwide). Revised 2023 UK editions change some wording and may not match the vocabulary studied here.
