“Yes.”
She nodded, making a note. “I’ll need to see the residence.”
“No.”
Miss Marblemaw squinted at Zoe, her mustache frayed and bristly. “No?”
Zoe shrugged. “No.”
“You can’t say no.”
“I just did.”
Miss Marblemaw sighed. “Is it too much to ask for the adults in this place to actually act like adults? You are being petty, Miss Chapelwhite.”
“Or,” Arthur said, “she’s had centuries of experience with people like you who’ve made false promises, only to renege when it actually counted.”
Miss Marblemaw clucked her tongue. “Pity. I thought you’d listen to reason. It seems I was mistaken. I suppose it would be pointless of me to ask my remaining questions, seeing as how I’ll get either stonewalled or lied to.”
Zoe smiled, razor sharp. “That might be the smartest thing you’ve said since your arrival.”
“I know you think little of me,” Miss Marblemaw said. “Thankfully, likability isn’t a requirement for these inspections. My job isn’t to come here to make friends. As listed in the RULES AND REGULATIONS, my job is to ensure that the children are being well cared for, and—”
“I can’t tell if she truly believes that, or if that’s what she’s been told to say,” Zoe said to Arthur.
“She’s no Linus Baker,” Arthur agreed, touching the ring on his finger.
Before Miss Marblemaw could retort, they were interrupted when Lucy burst into the room, covered head to toe in mud. He skidded to a stop, mouth hanging open. It snapped closed when he saw Miss Marblemaw. “Uh,” he said, eyes darting side to side. “I haven’t done anything I wasn’t supposed to, and the only reason I came running in here was because I wanted … to see … how fast … I … am?” He grinned. “Yep, that’s all it is!”
“What have you been doing?” Miss Marblemaw said, aghast. “Did you track mud through the entire house?”
Lucy looked down at the muddy footprints leading into the office. “Huh. I guess I did. Weird.”
“Lucy,” Arthur admonished gently. “We’re in the middle of a meeting. Please don’t be rude. Can you wait?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lucy said. “I totally can. Forget I was even—
From somewhere downstairs, a cry that could only come from a beleaguered Papa: “LUCIFER BAKER-PARNASSUS.”
“Uh-oh,” Lucy said. “And also, aw. I love that name.”
“Lucy,” Arthur said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “I’ve got some ’splaining ta do.” He brightened. “But! I think when you see what I’ve done, you’ll be impressed.” He turned toward Miss Marblemaw, smile widening, causing the drying mud to crack on his cheeks. “As will you, Miss Marblemaw. I made them especially for you.”
“Made what?” Miss Marblemaw asked, face pinched as if she’d just stepped in leavings from a dog.
“Come and see!” he said, giggling as he skipped from the room, footsteps squishy on the floor.
“Shall we?” Arthur asked. “I’m sure Zoe wouldn’t mind picking this up at a later time.” He didn’t flinch when Zoe kicked him underneath the desk.
“This had better not be a distraction,” Miss Marblemaw warned. “You’re already skating on thin ice, Mr. Parnassus.”
“Good thing I can fly,” he said, extending his hand to Zoe. She took it, letting herself be pulled up, her wings unfolding. She put her arm through his and they walked around the desk to the door, each of them shaking their head at the little footprints left in the carpet. Stopping in the doorway, Arthur glanced at Miss Marblemaw. “Coming?”
Miss Marblemaw stood slowly. “The child had better not have done anything … illegal.”
Arthur laughed. “What kind of monsters do you take us for? Don’t answer that. We already know.”
As they left Miss Marblemaw spluttering behind them, Zoe whispered, “I’d forgotten how much of a bitch you can be when you put your mind to it.”
Arthur kissed her hair. “What a lovely thing to say.”
To say the mud men were a surprise wouldn’t quite be correct; the evidence of their existence was plentiful. First, Lucy had attempted such a thing before. Second, Lucy had entered the office covered in mud.
Your honor, the prosecution rests.
Going outside, Arthur was further unsurprised to find the rest of the children standing next to Linus, his hands on his hips, head cocked as he frowned at the sight before him: Lucy pacing, jabbering away at a mile a minute, hands thrown up as he moved back and forth. It was quite the sight to see, especially when Lucy stopped his explanation to shore up the left leg of one of several six-foot mud men.
“There,” he said, pulling his hands away. “That should hold for a little while.”
“You made mud men?” Linus asked, eyes narrowed.
Miss Marblemaw started coughing roughly when the mud man looked down at Lucy and said, “Muuuuuuud?”
“That’s exactly right, Janet,” Lucy said. “Papa is being rude by not respecting your pronouns.” He looked up at Linus, shaking his head. “For shame, Papa. Janet is a mud woman. Barry and Turnip are mud men.”
“Muuuuuuddddd,” Janet said, voice thick and wet.
