Genie claps once. “And voilà. The Living Library.”
I stare at them. “That plan has a lot of ‘slipping’ and ‘sneaking’ in it.”
“Yes,” Nash drawls.
“None of those things are my strengths.”
Theo kisses my temple. “We noticed.”
I brighten. “What if we disguise ourselves?”
“How?” Malachi asks with a tilt of his head.
“Well,” I say, as the plan forms in my mind. “What if we pretend to be… performers?”
Genie squints. “Performers.”
“Yes,” I continue, warming to the idea. “A traveling troupe. Knights can juggle. Theo breathes fire. I do interpretive chaos.”
Hart blinks. “That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
Malachi grins. “I kind of like it.”
“Absolutely not,” Nash says.
Hart sighs. “Daphne.”
“Yes?”
“We are not staging a medieval talent show in the middle of an Idol occupation.”
“That’s quitter talk.”
Genie suddenly goes still, and his wispy bit stops wisping. “Uh.”
“What?” I ask.
He points ahead.
We crest the hill where the road curves, and there, blocking the path to the castle gates, stands a massive, newly laid croquet field stretching across the courtyard. Flaming torches send flickering shadows across the grass, and card soldiers march along the perimeter.
And in the center of it all stands the Queen of Hearts. Her eyes light up like someone handed her a particularly exciting execution. “You there,” she shouts. I cringe as her voice grates against my mind, and her grin widens. “You’ve arrived just in time for the next match.”
The row of card soldiers turn, and every eye in the courtyard locks onto us.
Hart whispers, “Daphne, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
Good news—I’m not thinking at all. Also, I don’t think she recognizes us. Also good news.
“Hello!” I shout with a wave and a beaming fake smile. “Is this where we sign up for the talent show?”
The guys groan.
The Queen of Hearts gasps. “Oh, I like this one,” she says. Then she points her mallet. “Off with their—” The gate slams shut behind us, and the card soldiers march forward. “Heads.”
I should really learn to think.
Chapter Twenty Four
