Chapter Ten

TEN

Wednesday dawned warm and clear, the type of summer day when adventure called, to be followed by a well-deserved nap in a swaying hammock attached to palm trees.

Or it would have been, if this Wednesday had occurred anywhere else.

On Marsyas Island, this particular Wednesday meant something else entirely: preparing for war.

“We are not preparing for war!” Linus said for what felt like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes.

“Then why am I wearing a battle helmet?” Chauncey asked.

“That’s the colander you nicked from the kitchen,” Linus said.

The children had decided to use Linus and Arthur’s room as a base of operations, each of them bringing what they considered necessary to face the days ahead. David wanted to wear a cape. Phee helped with it, tying the ends in a knot around his throat. Phee had a crown of flowers in her hair, made up of blooms from Talia’s garden. Talia fretted over the state of her beard until Sal brought her one of her creams to help smooth it down while leaving it with a healthy sheen. Theodore hung from the ceiling like a bat, checking in with Linus every five minutes or so to ensure a particular brass button was still hidden on his person. Calliope watched them all coolly from her perch in one of the windows, green eyes bright.

Arthur sat in his high-backed chair, shaking his head each time Lucy came out of his room with a new idea on how to greet the inspector. The first time he came out, he was over nine feet tall. It’d been disconcerting, seeing as how his body was still that of a child and his legs were now three times longer than they usually were. The second time he came out, he was back to regular size, but wearing a shirt with red lettering that proclaimed him to be DADDY’S LITTLE DEVIL .

“Get it?” he asked quite loudly. “ Get it? ”

“We get it,” everyone said, and Lucy beamed.

When he came back out of his room for the third time he asked, “Has anyone seen a scorpion? No worries if not. He’s one of the tiny ones, which means he’s really poisonous while also being hard to see.” Arthur sat upright in his chair, looking toward the open door that led out into the hallway.

A moment later, Zoe appeared, looking grim. She wore tan slacks and a billowy blouse, the sleeves of which hung over the backs of her hands. Arthur rose from his chair. Linus must have seen his movement out of the corner of his eye because he looked at Arthur, arched an eyebrow in a silent question, then followed Arthur’s gaze toward the door.

“What is it?” Arthur asked as the children fell silent around them. An unnecessary question because he knew. They all did.

“She’s here,” Zoe said. “Just got off the train. Helen’s picking her up. She’s going to take the scenic way around town to give us a bit more time, but it won’t be long.”

“We’re ready,” Arthur said, though it felt like a lie. He hated how easy it was to speak untruths when he wanted to protect others. “We’re going to stab her with so much kindness, she’ll thank us for it.”

“Really should work on the phrasing,” Linus muttered as he stood up, knees popping. “But I like your spirit. Yes. We’re ready.”

“I guess I have to hide now,” David said, shoulders slumped as he tried to untangle the knot Phee had tied in his cape. “Just let me get this stupid thing off and I’ll be quiet. Promise.”

“It’s not stupid,” Chauncey said. “I think you look amazing. I tried to wear a cape once, but it made me look like a superheroic gumdrop.”

David laughed, but it faded quickly. He scowled at the knot, claws tearing into the fabric. Arthur stepped forward, pulling David’s hands away as he crouched before him. “Do you understand why this is necessary?”

David wouldn’t look at him, gaze firmly planted on his bare feet. He shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not registered, and she could try and use that against me.”

Arthur brushed a short string of hair out of David’s face. “Exactly. And that’s the only reason. We’re not ashamed of you. We’re not embarrassed by you. You are wonderful, David. And soon enough, everyone will get to learn what we already know.”

Then Sal said, “No.”

Arthur looked over at him with a frown, still hunkered before David. “What was that?”

Sal stepped forward, looking determined. “Hiding away solves nothing,” he said as Theodore nodded from his shoulder. “The only thing it does is make us used to staying in the shadows. That’s not fair.”

“It isn’t,” Linus said carefully as Arthur stood. “And you won’t hear us trying to argue otherwise. But this is different. Since David is unregistered, he runs the risk of being removed immediately. We can’t take that chance, especially since it might affect the rest of you.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” David said, sounding like he was starting to panic. “I can hide!” His mouth twisted down as he scuffed a foot against the floor. “And besides, it’s not the first time I’ve had to do it. I’m used to it by now.”

Sal shot Arthur a pointed look before moving to stand in front of David, gripping his shoulders. “We don’t want that for you. That’s why we all talked about it and came to a unanimous decision.” His expression softened. “Sorry we didn’t tell you about it. We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But we want to help.”

“David doesn’t hide,” Phee said, crossing her arms and glaring up at Arthur and Linus. “We know it could mess things up for the rest of us, but if he can’t be seen, then the rest of us won’t be either. We’ll go on strike.”

Chauncey pumped his tentacles in the air. “Strike! Strike! Strike!”

“If she has a problem with David, I’ll use her for fertilizer,” Talia said.

Lucy nodded. “And I’ll open up a dimensional doorway in the fabric of reality and send her to a place where even demons fear to tread. What is this evil place, you might be asking? Great question!” He spread his hands wide in a practiced display of showmanship. “It’s called… Florida.”

Arthur studied each of the children in turn and found a united front. Though a trickle of unease wormed its way through his chest toward his heart, it was no match for the fierce pride that burned through him. Without Arthur or Linus, the children had held their own congress and come to a decision on something they perceived to be unreasonable.

“David?” he asked gently. “What do you want?”

David jerked his head up, wiping the ice crystals that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He fidgeted, wringing his hands, causing his knuckles to pop loudly. Theodore tittered, spreading his wings and jumping from Sal’s shoulders to David’s. Calliope—never one to pass up an opportunity—jumped down from the window and brushed against Sal’s legs, meowing loudly until he picked her up. She took Theodore’s place, tail wrapped around the back of Sal’s neck.

David growled at her but subsided when Theodore laid his chin on top of David’s head. The yeti froze, eyes rolling up. “Uh. He’s… what’s going on? What do I do? Nothing? Something? Oh my God, tell me!”

“He’s showing you that he trusts you,” Sal explained. “And that he’s got your back. Same as the rest of us.” Calliope raised a paw to Sal’s chin, forcing him to look down at her. She began to purr loudly as he pressed his nose against hers. “Because we don’t hide. Maybe we did, once, but no more. We have the right to exist. Registered or not. If DICOMY has a problem with that, well.” He smiled, and in it, Arthur saw his strength, his purpose. “Then maybe it’s time we took on the government. Show them what we’re really capable of.”

“Anarchy!” Lucy shrieked, eyes burning red. “Chaos! Buffets with a never-ending supply of macaroni and cheese! Hellfire!”

“David,” Linus said, “you haven’t answered Arthur’s question. What is it you want?”

David looked at the other children, Talia and Phee giving him a thumbs-up. He hesitated. Then, “I don’t want to hide. I won’t cause trouble, I promise.”

“He could stay with me until she leaves,” Zoe offered. “No one can find my home unless I invite them to.”

Sal shook his head. “We thought about that. It’s no different from hiding him here.” He took in a deep breath, letting it out slow. “We know it’s a lot to ask, but this is important. And it’s not as if we didn’t think things through.”

“We have a plan,” Lucy said, clapping gleefully.

“Oh dear,” Linus whispered. “Tell us.”

At just past noon, the ferry docked at Marsyas Island. Arthur heard the sound of Helen’s old truck winding its way up the dirt road toward the house and stepped outside. He was calmer than he expected to be; it was as if every heightened emotion had burned itself out, leaving only a sense of quiet inevitability.

When the truck crested the hill, he stepped off the porch, standing in front of the house, hands folded behind his back. Through the windshield, he could see Helen saying something to the figure sitting next to her, hands gesticulating wildly.

The truck came to a stop, brakes squealing. A moment later, it shut off, the engine ticking like a clock. Helen climbed out of the truck, shutting the door behind her. She glanced at Arthur, rolled her eyes, and then went to the bed of the truck, pulling out a rather large suitcase—black with leather handles, obviously heavy—as she grunted.

The passenger side of the truck opened, and the inspector stepped out, a silver metal briefcase clutched against her chest.

She was tall—at least six feet, which would put her just above Linus and near Arthur’s height, and as thin as a whisper. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun, cinched tightly atop her head with nary a hair out of place. Pierced ears with small diamonds. Rings on each finger—gold and silver and what appeared to be onyx, each decorated with colorful jewels, settling against thick knuckles. Her thin, arched eyebrows looked as if they’d been painted on, giving her the appearance of one in a perpetual state of disbelief. She had a beauty mark on her right cheek and her lips were a slash of blood red, causing her gaunt face to take on the appearance of a business-professional skeleton. The inspector wore no-nonsense flats—black in color—along with a gray pleated skirt, the hem resting just below her knees. Given the summer heat, her coat was a strange choice. Cinched tightly at her waist, the red coat was lined with golden buttons up the front—eight in all, four on each side—and a collar that rose dramatically around her head, stiff and lined with fur. She was a sight to behold, and if she hadn’t been here as a representative of the government, Arthur might have warned her about the gold buttons and how a certain wyvern might react upon seeing them. But she was, and who was he to ruin what was most likely to be an eye-opening experience?

She shut the door behind her, looking up at the sky with a frown. The sun disappeared behind a cloud as if even it wanted nothing to do with her. That done, she nodded, spun on her heels, and made her way toward Arthur. Her gaze flickered from him to the house behind him, though her face was a blank mask, giving nothing away.

“Mr. Parnassus,” she said, her voice deeper than he thought it’d be, sounding like a pair of heavy, ominous doors slowly opening. She did not extend her hand in greeting, stopping a few feet away from him. Her eyes were flat and narrow, the color of storm clouds. Younger than Arthur and Linus, though not by much. “My name is Harriet Marblemaw. You may refer to me as Miss Marblemaw. I have been tasked with inspecting this orphanage by the Department in Charge of Magical Youth.”

Arthur bowed. “Welcome to Marsyas, Miss Marblemaw. I do hope your trip was uneventful. As you’re undoubtedly aware, I recently rode the train myself. Fascinating mode of transportation, wouldn’t you agree? Though, in my humble opinion, riding the bus was much more pleasurable.”

Miss Marblemaw stared at him, unblinking. “I was unaware I came here to discuss public transportation.”

“You did not,” Arthur agreed. “You are here, as you said, to inspect an orphanage, which puts me at a bit of a loss. You see, this is not an orphanage. This is a home. I hate to think you came all this way with faulty information. That would certainly make your job that much more difficult.”

Miss Marblemaw chuckled, shifting her briefcase until it rested against her right forearm. “I was there,” she said pleasantly, “for your testimony. It was… enlightening. And also unfortunate, given how it ended.” Before he could respond, she opened the briefcase, looked through DICOMY-stamped files, and pulled out an official-looking document. “This is the order from DICOMY signed by interim DICOMY head Jeanine Rowder allowing me access to the island, the children, and anything else I require during my stay.” She held out the page toward him. “I think you’ll find that even you won’t be able to talk your way out of this.”

Arthur ignored the document. “And how is Miss Rowder? Our first—and only—meeting ended with her leaving before we finished. I do hope it was nothing I said.”

She glanced over his shoulder. “Where are the children?”

Arthur nodded. “Eager, are we? I don’t blame you. I, too, was fit to burst the first time I met them. I’m glad we have that in common.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Helen muttered as she approached, setting the suitcase down near the inspector’s feet. For her part, Miss Marblemaw barely acknowledged Helen’s existence. And she did not tip, which was something Arthur would have to make sure Chauncey was aware of. He would have a few choice words about that, Arthur was sure.

Miss Marblemaw cocked her head, not unlike a bird as she shoved the document back into the briefcase, latching it shut. “Do you think yourself amusing, Mr. Parnassus?”

“I do. Though, as I told one of my young charges, humor is subjective, and it—”

“I thought as much. You seem the sort.” She squared her shoulders and smiled. On anyone else, Arthur would have thought it a funny little grin, but with Miss Marblemaw, it seemed as if she thought she was already dealing with a child. In it, everything he despised: smarmy condescension mixed with unearned confidence, all disguised in a candy-apple coating, sticky, sweet. And that made her more dangerous than she’d been even a moment before. Whatever else Rowder was, she wasn’t a fool; she’d known exactly who to send to the island. Miss Marblemaw proved that when she spoke again. “I am familiar with your… history, Mr. Parnassus. Somehow, you’ve been able to charm yourself into a position of great power ignominiously. You pulled the wool over the eyes of Extremely Upper Management—”

Arthur laughed, trying to keep his anger at bay. The phoenix lifted its head, wings ruffling. “Did I, now?”

“—but I won’t fall for your tricks. I am not Charles Werner. I am not Linus Baker. The reason I’m here is to ensure not only that the children are being cared for, but that you aren’t filling their heads with propagandic anti-government sentiments.”

“Speaking of propaganda,” Helen said sweetly, “I remember what happened to all the DICOMY posters you asked about when driving through town. Silly me, I don’t know why it took me till just now.”

“Good,” Miss Marblemaw said, distracted as she moved her briefcase from one hand to the other. She bent over to pick up her suitcase. “Your cooperation will be noted. What happened to them?”

“It appears the salt in the air does not agree with the adhesive provided,” Helen said. “And since we did not want to run afoul of the government, we followed their instructions, which said not to use our own, to the letter. Unfortunately, all of the posters blew into the ocean.”

Miss Marblemaw stood upright and squinted at Helen. “I absolutely beg your pardon? The adhesive, you say? Noted. I will be sure to inform the appropriate office of the issue. It will be corrected immediately. In the meantime, you have my permission to use tape, or even pushpins.”

“Blast it,” Helen exclaimed. “We’re fresh out of both. I will put in an order posthaste to ensure we have enough tape and pushpins in the future.”

“See that you do,” Miss Marblemaw said with a sniff. “After all, it is important for any magical person to know their government is watching them, and cares about their well-being.”

Helen stepped forward, kissing Arthur on the cheek. Her mouth near his ear, she whispered, “Careful with this one.” She pulled away, nodded, and then headed back toward her truck. “Please let us know if you need to head into the village,” she called over her shoulder. “Keep in mind that the ferry rates fluctuate, so I can’t guarantee the same price as when we crossed. Petrol is expensive, after all, but then, you work for the government, so I’m sure no expense will be spared. Toodles!”

“Would you like to introduce me to the children?” Miss Marblemaw asked as Helen’s truck fired up. “Also, while I’m here, I’ll need to speak with Zoe Chapelwhite. Since she has contact with the children, she is not exempt from any inquiry. I’m sure you’ll be kind enough to facilitate that meeting, won’t you? Good man.”

Suitcase in hand, she brushed by him without hesitation and walked toward the house.

“Here we go,” Arthur whispered, following her inside.

The house was quiet, unnervingly so. Miss Marblemaw stopped inside the entryway, setting her luggage and briefcase near the door. As Arthur closed the door behind them, Miss Marblemaw made a show of opening the briefcase once more, pulling out a clipboard with a red ink pen clipped to the front. She turned and began inspecting… the walls? She kicked a baseboard, leaving a small black smudge. Then she ran a finger along the small table near the door, lifting it close to her eyes. “No dust,” she muttered. “Odd.” She crouched down before an electrical socket, pulling at the plastic plug before shoving it back in and marking something on the clipboard.

Arthur cleared his throat. He expected her to jump. She didn’t, only turning her head to glance at him. “Before we go any further.”

“Excuses already, Mr. Parnassus? That doesn’t bode well.”

Arthur waved her off. “Nothing like that. I’m of the mind that if you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way. If not, you’ll find an excuse.”

Her eyebrows rose on her forehead. “Is that an accusation, sir?”

“It was not,” Arthur said mildly. “But it would seem as if you’re primed to consider most anything suspicious, and I would urge caution against that.”

“Would you?” she asked as she stood slowly. “And why would that be?”

“Because if you’ve convinced yourself there is darkness around every corner, you’re conditioned to fear it, especially when it goes hand in hand with a particular narrative.”

“The narrative that you, a magical being—one of the strongest known—is attempting to take possession of potentially dangerous children, some of whom have the power to end life as we know it? Is that the particular narrative you speak of?” Coolly amused, as if she were Calliope and he her prey, trying to tire him out before attacking.

“It is,” Arthur said. “And one that is extraordinarily problematic. Though I shouldn’t have to remind you, I will: regardless of what powers they do or do not have, they are still children. And since you are in our home and they are under my care, if at any point I believe you are jeopardizing their well-being—meaning physically, psychologically, or emotionally—I’ll do what I must to ensure their safety.”

Miss Marblemaw smiled thinly. “I don’t know what kind of person you take me for, Mr. Parnassus, but I am offended at even the suggestion that I would harm the children in any way. The very idea is preposterous, and I will gladly take an apology, should one be on offer.”

“I’m not going to—”

“I see,” she said, scribbling something on her clipboard—uncomplimentary, no doubt—before adding, “Let’s try a different approach.” She looked up, expression bland. “I appreciate the gravity of this situation. I hope you do as well. While I do know quite a bit about you, I am nothing but a stranger to you. Let me share a little about myself.” She slid the pen into the top of the clipboard. “I’m not magical. I wouldn’t be in this position if I was. However, I do have talents of my own, one of which I think you might find interesting.”

“And what would that be?”

Miss Marblemaw said, “I am incapable of experiencing fear. Things that go bump in the night, large snakes with poisonous fangs, mortality, insects, slime, threats from a man who doesn’t understand the seriousness of the situation he finds himself in, nothing frightens me. It’s been that way since I could remember. The sooner you realize that, the better off we’ll be.”

Arthur paused, mind racing. Then, “I will keep that in mind. Since you are being up front with me, I will do the same with you. As you were sent by Miss Rowder, I assume you have an infestation going on.”

Her eyes bulged. “A what ? How dare you—”

“Bugs,” Arthur said. “But not of the insect variety. I am, of course, speaking about listening devices similar to the one deposited in our hotel room before the hearing. If you have brought any with you, and I find that you’ve planted them in the house, you’ll be banished from the island immediately, regardless of whether you’ve finished your investigation. This is not a threat, it’s a fact.”

“You can’t banish me,” she snapped.

He shrugged affably. “Interesting that’s what you focused on, rather than a denial. But you’re right: I can’t banish you. Such powers are beyond me. That beings said, the island belongs to Zoe Chapelwhite, and you are here with her permission. If she does not want you here, you won’t be. Simple as that. Do we understand each other?”

The smug expression returned. “You have no proof Rowder or anyone else from DICOMY placed a bug in your room. And since there is no proof, what you’re saying constitutes slander. There are legal protections against such things, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Arthur chuckled. “That I am. No bugs, Miss Marblemaw. The children are allowed their privacy.” He moved by her, stopping momentarily to glance over his shoulder. “Coming? Class is in session. You can meet the children after their lessons have finished.”

He almost burst into laughter the moment he walked into the classroom on the first floor, Miss Marblemaw close on his heels, the irritating scratch of her pen a constant reminder. For reasons known only to him, Lucy had changed his clothes again. He now wore dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a little tie half the length of Arthur’s forearm. As soon as he saw Miss Marblemaw walking in behind Arthur, his hand immediately shot up, fingers wiggling as he stood on the chair of his desk. The other children looked at Miss Marblemaw with a mixture of worry and interest.

Linus stopped in the middle of his lesson—Wednesday afternoons meant literature discussions—and frowned at Miss Marblemaw before looking at Lucy. “You had a question about the material?”

“I do not,” Lucy said loudly. “I just wanted to let you know that I love sitting at a desk in the middle of summer so that I can learn rather than play outside.”

Linus blinked. “You do? I mean, of course you do. Thank you for saying what we all already know.”

Talia’s hand rose. “I also would like to say that learning is so much fun. In fact, there is nothing I would rather do than learn from you, Mr. Baker .”

“Why are we calling him that?” Chauncey whispered loudly to Phee, glancing nervously at their new guest.

“Because of the scarecrow standing next to Arthur,” Phee whispered back.

Miss Marblemaw grunted and scribbled on her clipboard.

“She’s a scarecrow ?” Chauncey exclaimed. “Oh my goodness. What will they think of next?”

“Children,” Linus said, pulling their attention back to him. “Let’s focus, please. Just because we have a visitor doesn’t mean we can ignore our studies. We should—”

Right then, a yeti sauntered into the room, cool as ice, his cape billowing behind him. He posed for a moment, hands on his hips, before glancing up at Miss Marblemaw and grinning, fangs on full display.

Miss Marblemaw’s eyes widened as she took a step back before stopping herself—not frightened, but startled?—mouth twisting. “What is that ?”

David bowed, almost falling flat on his face, but managing to keep himself upright at the last second. “Greetings, fair lady.” He grabbed the back of her hand and slobbered a kiss onto it before she could snatch it away. “I heard tales of an inspector arriving on the island, but I never expected them to be so… you. Tell me, does your face normally look like that, or did you do it up special just for me?”

“Another child,” Miss Marblemaw whispered, eyes widening. “We knew —” She seemed to remember she was surrounded and her mouth snapped shut with an audible clack of her teeth.

David laughed. “A child? Miss, I am no child. I’m forty-seven years old.”

Linus groaned at the front of the classroom. Arthur, on the other hand, was extremely fascinated by this turn of events. When the children had said they had a plan for David, they hadn’t shared the particulars. Taking David’s acting abilities into consideration was a stroke of mad genius, even if it was more than a little ridiculous.

Miss Marblemaw squinted down at David. “You’re… what?”

“Nearly half a century,” David said cheerfully. “You might be asking yourself, How can a yeti of that age be so short? I’m so glad you asked! When I was but a young lad, I found myself between a rock and a hard place. Literally! I was trapped there for seven years until rescued by a traveling carnival, and it stunted my growth. But I don’t let it keep me down! After all, I’m an adult.”

Miss Marblemaw’s face twisted as if an offending odor had filled her nostrils. “You honestly expect me to believe that? If you aren’t a child, then why are you here?”

“Arthur and I go way back,” David said easily. “Rushed a fraternity together.”

“Arthur Parnassus was never in a fraternity,” she said. “Trust me when I say I’ve done my research. I know everything there is to know about him.”

“Do you?” Arthur asked Miss Marblemaw. “And you’re right, of course. I did not rush a fraternity during the time I furthered my education, but only because it was illegal for a magical being to join a human group. That wasn’t repealed until well after I’d left.”

“By rush, I meant we ran at it,” David said. “Because Arthur and I like to run, don’t we, old chap?”

“That’s exactly right,” Arthur said, reminding himself to have a conversation with David later about lying responsibly. “I appreciate you being here, David. Your support during this process means the world to me.”

“We’re going to have a beer later,” David told Miss Marblemaw. “Me and Arthur. Yep, gonna drink some beers and talk about the economy, just like the old days.”

“Is that right?” Miss Marblemaw asked. “Strange how that works out. You, here, looking like you do.”

David started to shrink in on himself. “I can be here if I want to,” he muttered. “I’m allowed to—”

“That’s right,” Sal said sharply. “You are allowed to be here.” He turned around, raising his hand. When Linus nodded at him, he said, “Before the interruption, we were discussing the negative effects of a totalitarian government, and the dangers language poses, especially when weaponized as propaganda.”

“We… were?” Linus asked. “I mean, of course we were. That’s exactly right. Language can be used for good, but it can also cause suffering.”

“To marginalized communities,” Sal said, voice clear. He did not turn back to look at the inspector again, but she was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Arthur thought that had been Sal’s point: to remove her attention from David. “So, my question is this: If certain language knowingly causes harm, why would a politician use said language in any part of their governance? Does it have a purpose, or is it that they just don’t care?”

“Isn’t it grand?” Arthur whispered to Miss Marblemaw. “Children having ideas, talking them through, questioning everything.”

“We have different definitions of the word ‘grand,’” she retorted, continuing to mark up the page on her clipboard.

“Excellent question,” Linus said with an approving nod. “Before I provide my own input, does anyone have an insight they want to share?”

“Because they know exactly what they’re doing,” Phee said. “They know that fear is a powerful motivator, and that many people will believe whatever they’re told.”

“And why is that?” Linus asked.

Theodore reared back on his own desk, wings spread wide as he chirped excitedly.

“Wonderful, Theodore,” Linus said. “You got it in one. The idea of caring can be a bit of a minefield. When Sal asked if they—meaning those in power—don’t care, is that truly what you think? Because I don’t think that’s correct.”

“Interesting,” Miss Marblemaw murmured. “It appears as if your Mr. Baker isn’t as brainwashed as you might have hoped.”

“Or,” Arthur said, “you could let him finish.”

“Speaking hypothetically—and only about the book we’re discussing—I believe they do care, but not in any way that benefits the groups affected. They care about themselves. About control. About manipulation in media, in polling, in the spreading of fear until subservience is not only a relief, but a welcome one at that.”

Arthur turned his head slowly to look at Miss Marblemaw, whose face was darkening with barely contained anger. “Do you like to read, madam?”

The skin under her right eye twitched. “There will be discussions on what is and what is not proper for children to learn in their studies. By the end of the week, I’ll expect the lesson plans for each child, in addition to a list of all the books you allow them to read. It seems to me that list needs to be culled.” She tapped her pen against the clipboard. “For the children’s protection, of course.”

“But that is enough for today,” Linus said. “As you can see, we have a new guest. She is here on loan from the Department in Charge of Magical Youth to make sure you—”

“I can handle my own introductions, thank you very much.”

Linus’s expression soured momentarily before he nodded. “Of course. The floor is yours.”

Miss Marblemaw moved swiftly toward the front of the classroom, the bottom of her coat billowing around her, mere inches from the floor. Instead of asking Linus to move, she crowded against him until he stepped to the side. With that, she turned to look at the children and cleared her throat. “Good morning. I am Miss Marblemaw. You may refer to me by name, or ‘ma’am.’ Not ‘hey.’ Not ‘you there.’ If this concept proves too difficult for any of you to grasp, we will make time for lessons on how to politely address an elder.”

Lucy’s hand shot up once more, and though Arthur wanted to intervene— already —he decided to see what would play out, how the inspector would react to interacting with the children directly for the first time.

Miss Marblemaw took it in stride. “Yes? You have a question?”

“Would you like tea?” Lucy asked sweetly. “We have fresh honey to go with it.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “Gentility to government officials is not only proper, it can also be rewarding. Because of your generosity, you shall receive one official courtesy point. Receive fifty points, and you’ll be honored with a certificate from DICOMY signed by your favorite politicians.”

“Oh, wow, ” Lucy said, tumbling out of his desk. “My favorite politicians? But there are so many!”

Miss Marblemaw nodded solemnly as Lucy went to a small table set up on the other side of the room with tea and a tray of biscuits. “That’s wonderful to hear. Though many think we should put celebrities on pedestals, I’m of the mind that it’s the hard-working people of the government who should be on posters hanging in children’s rooms and having their autographs clamored over.”

“That’s so interesting!” Lucy said as he poured the tea carefully. “Gosh, you have really opened my eyes. Thank you for coming here with your face and your words. Sugar? Milk? Or will just the honey be all right?”

“Honey is fine,” Miss Marblemaw said. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I am an inspector sent by the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. I take my job very seriously, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” She grimaced, and it took Arthur a moment to realize she was attempting to smile and failing spectacularly. “I want you to think of me like your fun auntie who is here in an official capacity to determine if this house meets all official requirements, or if other options should be considered.”

“Your tea, ma’am,” Lucy said, holding out the cup toward her with a little bow.

She took it from him with a nod. Sipping from it daintily, she smacked her lips and said, “Quite a bit of honey in that. Next time, about half as much.”

“Thank you for the feedback,” Lucy said seriously. “I will take that into consideration going forward.” Then, he turned to Talia, tapping his chin. “Hey, didn’t you tell me about how honey is made? You should share that with Miss Marblemaw so she can see how much we’ve learned.”

Talia smiled and nodded. Waiting until Miss Marblemaw took a long sip, she said, “You think? Not everyone appreciates learning that honey is bee vomit.”

Arthur knew Lucy was expecting Miss Marblemaw to spit out the tea in what would most likely be a spectacular explosion. Instead, she swallowed and said, “My grandfather raised honeybees. I am well aware of what I’m consuming, thank you very much.”

Lucy frowned up at her, taking a step back. “Uh, that’s… huh.”

She cocked her head at him. “You must have been hoping for a different reaction, then. I see.” Pulling out a black handkerchief from the right sleeve of her coat, she dabbed it against her lips. Once done, it disappeared back up her sleeve. She looked down at the tea in the cup, swishing it around a little. When she lifted her head, she was smiling, a real, bright thing that sent a chill down Arthur’s spine. “It seems as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, and for that, you have my deepest regrets. It probably doesn’t help that you’ve had your poor little heads filled with all sorts of nonsense that I can’t even begin to imagine. Rest assured, that stops now. From this point forward, I’ll show you that your government cares not only for you, but for all magical beings far and wide. We have your best interests in mind and want nothing more than for you to succeed and lead semi-normal lives.”

“Well,” Phee said. “When you put it that way.”

“I’m so pleased you agree!” Miss Marblemaw said, a study in obliviousness. “After all, if a mess has been made, it must be cleaned up before it gets worse. Speaking of.” She glanced at Sal and held out her teacup toward him. “You there. I’m finished with this. Take it away.”

“My name is Sal,” he said flatly. “And in this house, we don’t tell people to clean up after others, at least not without asking politely.”

“He’s quite right,” Linus said. “As an inspector, shouldn’t you lead by example?”

Arthur could almost see the smoke curling from her ears as she scribbled something else on her clipboard. “Delegation teaches responsibility.”

“So does self-ownership,” Sal said.

“It does,” Arthur said, moving to the front of the room, Miss Marblemaw glaring daggers at him. “And Sal is correct, not only about taking responsibility for our actions, but also in that he has a name. Interestingly enough, all of the children do. Perhaps an introduction would be beneficial.”

“Fine,” Miss Marblemaw said, a version of her sticky-sweet smile returning, setting the teacup on the desk. “When called upon, I will ask that you provide your name, age, species, and one thing you like about living on the island, and one thing you dislike. I expect complete and total honesty. You will not speak until called upon.”

Linus scowled at her. “That’s not—”

“Tut, tut!” she trilled. “I don’t believe I called on Mr. Baker, but here he is, talking . You do not get a courtesy point.”

“Ooh,” the children said.

“Species?” Arthur asked, voice hard. “What does that have to do with anything? Surely you’ve studied whatever DICOMY passes off as files these days.”

“Be that as it may,” Miss Marblemaw said, “it is better if we hear it directly from the subjects to ensure there are no… delusions of what is or what isn’t. Children, line up in front of me, single file.”

No one moved.

“That was not a request!” she said in a maddeningly cheerful voice. “When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done without hesitation.”

Arthur nodded at the children, and they rose from their desks as one, forming a line as Miss Marblemaw had instructed.

Talia was first. She stepped forward, the tip of her cap flopped over. “My name is Talia. I’m two hundred and sixty-four years old. I am a garden gnome, one of the most talented who has ever existed.”

“Being braggadocious is unbecoming of a lady,” Miss Marblemaw said. “We must show humility, especially when in the company of our elders.”

Talia frowned. “But you said we needed to be honest. I am one of the most talented garden gnomes. Have you seen my garden?”

“I’m allergic,” Miss Marblemaw said dismissively. “Pollen is the bane of my existence. On to the rest. One thing you like, and one thing you dislike. Quickly.”

“I love pollen,” Talia said, stroking her beard. “And I dislike anyone who doesn’t appreciate growth.”

“Growth is important,” Miss Marblemaw said, not quite understanding the minutiae of Gnomish insults. “It’s a reward for learning. Next, please!”

Theodore stumbled forward, chirping loudly as he eyed her, head cocked. He spread his wings as he continued to chatter. The children—including David, flipping through his translation text—burst into laughter, and Linus clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes bulging. Arthur kept his expression carefully blank, though he thought, These children. These remarkable children .

When Theodore finished (having told Miss Marblemaw that her eyes looked like shiny buttons and that he was planning on taking them for his hoard, and no, she absolutely was not invited to see said hoard), Miss Marblemaw appeared bewildered. “What did it say?”

“ He said he’s a wyvern,” Sal said coolly. “That he’s not quite sure of his age. And that he likes pollen as well, and dislikes people who say one thing to try and win people over, and then stab them in the back.”

“Does that happen often here?” said Miss Marblemaw, furiously writing on her clipboard.

Theodore chirped again. Not until today .

“Nope,” Sal said. “It’s hypothetical.”

“I’m Chauncey,” the boy-blob said, oozing forward. “Ten years young. I seem to be a mixture of octopus, sea cucumber, and probably a bunch of other miracles. But! There’s something much more important that we should discuss.”

Miss Marblemaw leaned forward, eyes dancing. “Yes? Speak plainly, child. You have nothing to worry about because I’m here now. I promise I’ll make sure you are safe and—”

“I’m speaking, of course, about a financial investment opportunity.” He spread his tentacles wide. “Imagine: me in charge of a sixty-room hotel sitting on the beach complete with all the amenities your heart could desire. Massages! Fine dining! Live music! Your very own Chauncey-approved robe that you get to keep ! But wait . There’s more!” His eyes widened dramatically. “Your sixteen-carat diamond necklace was stolen from your hotel room? Have no fear! In addition to being the owner, manager, and bellhop, I will also promise my detective services to help solve any mystery! And this can all be yours if you make a monetary commitment that you will see tripled within two years. How much can I put you down for? The more zeroes, the bigger the hero!”

“Nothing,” Miss Marblemaw said. “I don’t believe in encouraging that which can never be. It’s cruel.”

“Interesting,” Arthur said. “Seeing as how he’s already one of the best bellhops in the known universe.” He winked at Chauncey. “A great man once said stories of imagination upset those without one. I, for one, can’t wait to see the hotel. Find me later, and we’ll discuss my own financial contribution.” Everyone ignored Miss Marblemaw’s pointed harrumph .

Sal’s turn. He stepped forward, staring at Miss Marblemaw, barely blinking. Opening his mouth to speak, he paused. Suddenly, he smiled, eyes lighting up.

It did not take Arthur long to see what Sal had: there, crawling on the collar of Miss Marblemaw’s coat, a small tan-and-yellow scorpion. He stepped forward, about to warn her, but Miss Marblemaw spoke first. “Are you going to talk?” she asked Sal. “Or just stand there staring at me like you’ve lost all common sense? I don’t have all day.”

Sal arched an eyebrow. “You do, though. You have two weeks.”

She lowered the clipboard, unaware of the hitchhiker she’d picked up at some point, crawling slowly toward her face, which had taken on a stunned expression that looked practiced. She brought a hand to her throat. “Are you…” The hand dropped. “Are you being smart with me?”

Sal nodded. “Yes. Because I am smart.”

“Or is it that you just don’t know any better?” Miss Marblemaw countered. “You are a child, which means you—”

“Beelzebub!” Lucy cried happily. “What are you doing up there, you silly goose?”

“Sacrilege,” Miss Marblemaw breathed. Then, in a much louder voice, “Who are you attempting to summon? I knew I should have brought holy water to—”

The scorpion’s tail reared back, but before it could strike, Miss Marblemaw’s hand flashed up, the handkerchief once again clutched in her fist. She covered the scorpion, pulling her hand back as she jerked her head away. As she held up the handkerchief, Arthur could see tiny tan insect legs twitching.

And then Miss Marblemaw closed her fist, crushing the scorpion with an audible crunch.

Silence.

“Island life,” Miss Marblemaw said, turning and walking toward the desk in the front. She tilted her handkerchief over the top of the bin. The scorpion’s corpse fell inside. It barely made a sound when it hit the bottom. “I suppose you run the risk of encountering…” She glanced at her audience. “… local wildlife when you’re this far from civilization. But that’s the trade-off, isn’t it? All that fresh air.”

“That was my scorpion!” Lucy said, outraged.

Miss Marblemaw glanced at him dismissively. “It was your scorpion. Now it’s nothing. If you truly cared about it, you would have done whatever you could to ensure its safety. An important lesson on how life works. On to other matters. You must be Lucifer.”

He glared up at her, eyes flashing red. “I am. I go by another name too.”

Miss Marblemaw chuckled. “I’m well aware. Curious that the scion of the Devil can be so… small. Why, you barely reach my waist! If you could, child, same as the others: age, one thing you like, and one thing you dislike.”

Lucy rocked back on his heels, smile growing once more. “My body is seven years old, but the demon inhabiting my soul is much older than that, so let’s say I’m thirty-six. And you know what’s weird? I like pollen too! And I dislike when there isn’t just piles of it lying around for us to roll in.”

Miss Marblemaw bent over until her face was in front of Lucy’s. She didn’t speak, nor did she blink. For his part, Lucy took a small step back, but didn’t look away. Then, Miss Marblemaw snapped upright, made a note on her clipboard, and said, “I won’t be intimidated by you. I have God on my side.”

Lucy groaned. “Oh, you’re one of those . Ugh.”

Miss Marblemaw ignored him. “Things are going to be different going forward. I will expect you all to be on your best behavior. If, for any reason, you are incapable of doing that, please let me know so that I may cut my visit short and make my recommendations now. Trust me when I say you will not like the results. Are there any questions?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Good. How wonderful it is that we all understand one another explicitly.”

Linus recovered first. “Children, I think it’s time for your afternoon snack. Why don’t we head to the kitchen while Mr. Parnassus shows Miss Marblemaw to the guesthouse.”

“That will be just fine,” Miss Marblemaw said. “I do hope the accommodations are in better condition than what I’ve seen so far.”

“The bed has been freshly made,” Arthur said as he pushed open the door to the guesthouse. Slightly dazed from Miss Marblemaw’s introduction, he tried to clear his head and focus on the task at hand. “You will find extra bedding in the hall closet, next to extra towels, should you need them. If you should require turndown service, Chauncey would be more than willing to assist. He likes the practice.”

“I highly doubt that will be necessary,” she replied as she stepped inside the house. “He seems… sticky, and I would prefer not to have the bedding feel the same.”

“He’s surprisingly not sticky,” Arthur said, closing the door behind him. “Unless he wants to be.”

Miss Marblemaw stiffened as she reached the entryway to the small sitting room. Arthur saw why when he came up behind her.

Zoe Chapelwhite stood in the sitting room, wings fluttering behind her. She glanced at Arthur over Miss Marblemaw’s shoulder before giving the inspector her undivided attention. “Welcome to the island. My name is Zoe Chapelwhite. If there’s anything you require during your stay, do let—”

“Zoe Chapelwhite?” Miss Marblemaw repeated. “According to our records, you are an unregistered magical being, which violates—”

Zoe held up her hand and Miss Marblemaw fell silent. After a moment, Zoe dropped her hand and said, “All I want to do is introduce myself. There’s no need for immediate hostilities. We have time to answer any questions you might have during your stay.” She glanced at Arthur, forcing a smile. “How did the children take the first meeting?”

“As well as can be expected, given the tremendous circumstances you find yourselves in,” Miss Marblemaw said.

“It went fine,” Arthur said. “And wouldn’t you know, my old friend David decided to stay to help out. You remember David, don’t you? The man I knew in my youth?”

“Of course,” Zoe said easily. “Wonderful he decided to give us a hand. Haven’t seen him in a dog’s age.”

“Oh, bollocks, ” Miss Marblemaw snapped. “You can’t expect me to believe—”

“Of course we do,” Zoe said. “Because otherwise, you’re calling us liars, and to island sprites, that’s one of the greatest insults a human can utter.”

Miss Marblemaw blanched but pushed on. “An unregistered magical being interacting with magical children is a recipe for disaster. But since we, the government, care so much, we are willing to let the past stay in the past in exchange for your immediate registration with the Department in Charge of Magical Adults.”

Zoe smiled, nose wrinkling. “You are here for two weeks, yes?”

Miss Marblemaw blinked. “Yes.”

“Then, as I said, we have time. Let’s get you settled in before we start planning the next—”

“You cannot disappear,” Miss Marblemaw said. “I know you probably have dozens of hiding places all over this little rock, but if you make me go searching for you, it won’t look good in the end.”

Zoe laughed, a sound like bells. “Little rock? Appearances can be deceiving. You have no idea about the land upon which you stand with my permission, or its history. Greater humans than you have tried to take it from the island sprites, and as the last guardian of this little rock, I will defend her with everything I have.” The sunlight returned as Zoe’s eyes changed back to their normal color. “Welcome to Marsyas! Please enjoy your stay.”

With that, she pushed by the inspector, kissed Arthur on the cheek, and swept from the room.

“That went well,” Arthur said mildly.

Miss Marblemaw did not agree.

That night, as Miss Marblemaw settled into the guesthouse, Arthur left Linus in the kitchen, putting away the remaining dishes from their supper. The house was quiet, too quiet; seven children and not a single sound?

On any other day, it might not have concerned him right away. But with Miss Marblemaw’s arrival, Arthur wasn’t taking any chances.

It didn’t take him long to find them. Up in the attic, Theodore’s room. He heard their voices coming from the open hatch in the ceiling, ladder extended.

Arthur was about to make himself known when he heard Phee’s voice.

“… and how the hell can she not be afraid of anything? How is that fair?”

“Maybe she just hasn’t met the right person yet,” Chauncey said. “Someone who can love her and also scare the crap out of her.”

“At least she looks scary,” David said, and though Arthur wished Marblemaw had never darkened their doorway, he took heart in knowing David felt safe enough to go with the others.

“What do we do?” Talia asked. “If she’s not scared of us, how do we stop her?” She sniffled, and Arthur had to swallow past the lump in his throat. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “What if she takes us away?”

Theodore chirped and clicked pointedly. Arthur closed his eyes.

“Theodore’s right,” Sal said. “If we get taken away, we’ll find each other again, no matter what. I promise. But we’re not going to let it get that far.”

“Hell yes,” Lucy said. “Don’t be sad, Talia. We’ve got this. Miss Marblemaw says she doesn’t have any fear? Then we won’t either. See how she likes it.”

Arthur could hear the smile in Talia’s voice when she said, “Thanks, Lucy.”