• unnaturally taxing their bodily energies
• how much interaction your son has with the housekeeper
• captured later that night
• in more ways than one
• rebellious but still very poised

Tune in next time part 358      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I said, “Hand over the tube, Olga.”

She sneered. “We’re surrounded by my allies. Let go of me before you get yourself killed. Embarrassingly.”

My own lips curled in a wicked parody of a grin. “Your allies are no threat. All this sun and feigned volleyball has been unnaturally taxing their bodily energies.” It was true. Most of the mimes were still on their feet, technically, but they were bent over and panting with exhaustion.

“Then you leave me no choice,” Olga retorted. “If you continue to interfere, our sleeper agents among the Contrarian nobility will exact revenge upon your children.”

“I hate to admit this,” I said steadily, “but Fleur is more than capable of neutralizing your operatives.” Fleur’s competence was fearsome, but still I was bluffing. I paused dramatically, then said, “I almost feel sorry for them.”

Shrugging, Olga said, “Ultimately it depends on how much interaction your son has with the housekeeper.” Now I knew she was bluffing, too. Housekeeping is banned in Contraria. Although, warlords have been known to flout such regulations. But not Fleur’s father. No, he was a traditionalist, and if he learned of illicit domestic laborers under his roof they and their patrons would be captured later that night.

I tightened my grip on her elbow, and felt the bones shifting in her arm. I flinched, thinking I was injuring her, but it was just her double-jointedness. Soon she gave me the slip in more ways than one, first slipping her arm out of my grasp and then running off up the beach, zig-zagging among the panting mimes and disappearing.

John scuffed his toes through the sand and stared off into the waves. “She’ll get it to Xylona,” he said. “My sister is rebellious but still very poised to see her mission through.”

I slogged over to him in the hot, dry sand. “You sound insane,” was all I had time to say before I made an unnerving discovery. The mimes had caught their breath.

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• I’m no good at math
• , hands in his pockets,
• the second best killer that I ever have seen
• consider them to be murderous badasses
• Holy hell

Tune in next time part 357      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Olga slipped between Heinrich and John, heading toward the silent volleyball players. I’m no good at math, but there’s no way a group that size could stay quiet during what they’d just witnessed. I hadn’t heard a peep out of them this whole time. Nor had I seen a ball.

“Mimes,” I muttered. “Why did it have to be mimes?”

John just stood there, hands in his pockets, acting like he didn’t know we were surrounded by mimes. Like his own sister, with her marvelous double-jointedness, wasn’t in league with them. John may be the second best killer that I ever have seen, but he’s always underestimated mimes. It’s like he doesn’t consider them to be murderous badasses. I lurched forward and snagged Olga by the elbow. I couldn’t let her hand over the test tube of my semen, whether or not it truly contained the exotic compound everyone claimed.

“Holy hell, Jason!” she shouted. “Let me go!”

“I can’t do that, Olga,” I said. “Disco Island is at the far end of the Archipelago, and we all know that’s dangerously close to White Faces territory. It’s clear where your loyalties lie.”

“And anyway,” said Heinrich. “That’s not Jason.” He handed my four sons to John and waddled off down the beach, taking Svetlana with him.

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