“Is it true?” he asked Ms. Hanaday like there wasn’t Mommy and Carol and all those guys with the big guns. “Did she break the code?”
“I’m afraid so,” Ms. Hanaday said. She was holding the cookie so hard part of it broke. She had to move really fast to catch it before it fell to the ground.
Now the cookie was Carol-size. Carol looked at Mommy, but Mommy wasn’t looking at her.
“This is the five-year-old, right?” Lord Kafir pushed past Ms. Hanaday, knocking the cookie again. She had to grab real fast and still parts of it fell on the floor. Wasted. Carol wanted to get them, but Mommy wouldn’t let her go.
“Yes, sir. This is Carol. You’ve met her.”
“That’s right.” He crouched.
Carol made a face at him. She hated people who forgot her.
“You look pretty smart,” he said.
“I’m tired,” she said.
“Are you smart?” he asked.
“Of course I am, dummy,” Carol said.
“Carol!” Mommy breathed. “We don’t talk to grown-ups like that.”
He wasn’t a grown-up. He was a mean man in bright red clothes. He was glaring at her like she’d done something wrong.
“I think you’re pretty smart,” he said like that was bad.
“Her teachers said she was average,” Mommy said.
“We tested her IQ three times. She always came out in the normal range.” Ms. Hanaday sounded kinda scared.
“You know that children often give unreliable IQ tests.” Lord Kafir pushed up and looked at the other grown-ups. “I don’t think she’s average.”
“Mr… Lord… Sir,” Mommy said. “She’s-”
“The other five-year-olds couldn’t beat that self-destruct,” he said.
“They barely got a chance, sir.” Ms. Hanaday was dripping cookie crumbs. “She got it earlier than the others-”
“Because she solved the earlier puzzles sooner. She’s good at code words and passwords and secret plans. She shouldn’t be this good if she’s average.”
“She watches a lot of television,” Mommy said.
“Can I have that cookie?” Carol asked.
Everybody looked at her.
“Please?” she asked in her best company voice.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mommy said, but Ms. Hanaday handed her all the parts of the cookie.
Carol chomped. The cookie wasn’t as good as it looked. Maybe because it got all sweaty and gooey in Ms. Hanaday’s hand.
“I swear, sir,” Ms. Hanaday said. “She’s average.”
“I’m tired of five-year-olds,” he said. “It’s time to implement the plan.”
“Sir! We can’t do that! It’s not ready!” Ms. Hanaday said.
“Get it ready,” he said.
“But the five-year-old-”
“Isn’t average,” he said.
Ms. Hanaday looked at Mommy like Mommy had gone into the living room without permission. It was like that code grown-ups had. Lord Kafir understood, even if Carol didn’t.
“Have you seen anything?” Lord Kafir asked Mommy.
“No,” Mommy said. She was lying. Carol looked at her in shock. Mommy was a horrible liar. She lied all the time. Carol just didn’t know it before.
“She saw the red lights,” Carol said. She didn’t want Mommy to get in trouble with Lord Kafir. “It scared her.”
“Red scares a lot of people,” he said, smoothing his ugly clothes. Was that why he wore them? To scare people?
The guards looked at each other, like they didn’t like any of this.
Ms. Hanaday shook her head.
“Pay the lady her three weeks and get them out of here,” Lord Kafir said to her. “And wash your hands. You’re a mess.”
“Yes, sir,” Ms. Hanaday said, but Lord Kafir was already hurrying down the hall.
The guards had lowered their weapons.
Ms. Hanaday ran a hand through her hair, making a streak of chocolate on the side of her face. It looked a little like poo.
Carol tried not to giggle.
“You know that this is all just war games,” Ms. Hanaday said.
“Sure,” Mommy said.
“Pretend stuff,” Ms. Hanaday said.
“Yeah,” Mommy said.
“None of it means anything,” Ms. Hanaday said.
“I know,” Mommy said.
“I’ll get your check,” Ms. Hanaday said, “and meet you at the door.”
“Okay,” Mommy said.
Ms. Hanaday hurried off after Lord Kafir. The guards just stared after her.
“I don’t like this,” one said to the other.
Mommy picked Carol up like she was a baby. “We’re going, honey.”
Carol swallowed the last of the cookie. Cookies were yucky without milk. “Okay,” she said.
Mommy hurried down the hall, a different way than everybody else went. It only took a few minutes to get to the door.
Ms. Hanaday was already there, holding a long piece of paper. It had to be a check. Mommy snatched it, then said thanks in a kinda rude voice, and then hurried out the door.
Nobody stopped them. In the movies, somebody would’ve stopped them. ’Specially the way Mommy was breathing, like she was all scared and stuff.
Carol wasn’t scared. Carol was glad to be outside where the sun was bright and the air smelled really good. She stretched. She wanted down. She wanted to run, but Mommy held tight all the way to the car.
They backed up and headed out of the parking lot, driving really, really fast.
“If you want a nap,” Mommy said, “close your eyes.”
“Where’re we going?” Carol asked.
“Far away,” Mommy said.
“Can we get my blankie?”
“Maybe,” Mommy said. That meant no. Carol sighed. She hated no. But not as much as she hated that place.
“What’s far away?” Carol asked.
“Good guys,” Mommy said.
Carol smiled. This was how it was supposed to go. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. But she couldn’t sleep. Mommy was driving really bad. Fast like in the movies. Tires squealing. Going around corners on two wheels, stuff like that.
Mommy’d been watching Carol play too many games.
Carol opened her eyes. They were on a road outta town. Carol’d never been outta town before. This was kinda cool.
“Mommy?”
“Hmm?” Mommy said in that don’t-bother-me voice.
“Am I average?”
“I hope so, honey,” Mommy said. “In fact, I’m praying that you are.”
“Because average kids beat the game?” Carol asked.
“And that means it’s easy,” Mommy said.
It didn’t seem easy. It was just dumb. But Carol didn’t say that. She closed her eyes again. She didn’t care about numbers and weird letters and computers. Or bad guys like Lord Kafir. They could be scary, but they always lost in the end.
At least she got part of what she wanted. She got a cookie. She got outta there.
And now-finally-she was gonna take a nap.
A WOMAN’S WORK… by Tanya Huff
It was obvious that the man outside the city wall was a Hero. His plain but serviceable armor-armor that had obviously seen several campaigns-did nothing to hide the breadth of his shoulders, the narrowness of his hips, or the long and muscular length of his legs. His hair gleamed gold under the edges of his helmet and even from her viewing platform on the top of the wall, Queen Arrabel could tell his eyes were a clear sky blue with the direct, unwavering gaze of an honorable man.
Over his left arm, he wore a simple unadorned shield, designed to deflect blows, not to support his ego by announcing his family ties to the world. In his right hand, he carried a sword. It looked like a hand-and-a-half, double-edged broadsword although he was so mighty a warrior he made it seem small. She could just make out a heavy gold ring on the second finger of his right hand. It was the only jewelry he wore.
“Prince Danyel!” He called, his voice clear and carrying. “Come out and face me. Let you and I settle the animosity between our two peoples! There is no need for war; we will fight man to man! He who wins our conflict will decide all!”