Witchy Sour(25)

Poppy gave me a sideways glance. “You’ll understand in a minute.”

“Let me guess, Hettie considers herself one of the Greats?”

“She calls herself a goddess,” Poppy trilled as she attempted to stifle a laugh. “It’s not nearly as funny as when she was caught trying to steal a set of fake grapes from an Aphrodite statue. She said they’d look better on her dining room table than in this dusty old hall!”

I covered my mouth to contain my own laughter as we toured deeper and deeper into the regal space.

“That woman, I tell you...” Poppy and I turned a corner, stopping short at the sight before us. “Just like I said.”

Hettie and Zin stood before a wall of trophies. The room was full of them, floor to ceiling. Silver and gold statues, plaques, and other memorabilia.

“I’m just pointing out the statue of myself,” Hettie said without turning around. “Zin doesn’t believe I worked with the Rangers. She was trying to tell me I was in no position to train her. Well, I give you...this. Am I a goddess or what?”

Joining Hettie on her other side, I looked to where she was pointing. The tiniest of all the statues sat at the end of her fingertip. The figurine reminded me of a little army man with a parachute attached to his back, the kind found in the bottom of cereal boxes. Except this statue was of a woman wearing a tiara with a smirk that distinctly matched my grandmother’s. Below the figurine was a tiny plaque that read: Most Valuable....

“What does that say?” I squinted. “The last word is all smudged out.”

“I can’t read it either,” Zin said. “It sort of looks like pinhead?”

“It does not say pinhead!” Hettie flounced a hand on her hip. “How rude.”

“What does it say?” Poppy asked. “I’ve never heard of anyone who knows what the original award was for.”

“No matter,” Hettie said as a pink flush decorated her cheeks. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Lovely,” I said.

“Really impressive,” Zin agreed. “And this should explain why you’re allowed to train me...how?”

“Because!” Hettie crossed her arms and puffed out her chest. “Not just anyone gets a statue here.”

“True,” Poppy agreed. “I don’t even have one yet, and I fancy myself an integral part of the workforce.”

“I’ll have one,” Zin vowed, her gaze leveling at the statue. “Just you wait.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone starts asking questions,” Poppy said. “Pretty soon they’re going to stop letting me show people around because all of my guests cause trouble!”

“Maybe if I could just touch this one last thing...” Hettie reached forward to run her hands along the abs of Hercules. Just as she did so, loud, angry voices erupted behind her.

“I will not accept that as an answer,” a male voice said. “We need to let her find out on her own.”

“We don’t have an option,” a second, quieter male voice said. “We need to hurry. They’re already here.”

“You don’t think she’ll notice all the robes? They’re flocking across The Isle.”

Hettie’s eyes widened, and Poppy’s matched hers.

“We’ve gotta hide,” Poppy said. “That’s the director’s voice.”

“We’re not allowed to be in here?” I blinked at her. “Why’d you take us in here then?”

“I didn’t! Hettie did.”

We both turned on Hettie, who crossed her arms and made a disgruntled noise in her throat. “I refuse to be intimidated by the two of you. I have a statue in here with my name on it. I can be in here if I want.”

“You’re supposed to have special clearance,” Poppy muttered. “Quick, just duck! Duck behind there and we’ll let them pass.”

The four of us scurried behind a partial wall that held a display of marble statues posed like sprinters in the Olympic races.

“This is fun,” Zin said with a dark, mischievous smile. “Really, really fun.”

“It is not fun,” Poppy whimpered. “You guys are going to make me lose my job.”

“Relax,” Hettie said. “I was basically the first female Ranger.”

“No, you have a statue the size of my thumbprint on the wall. That doesn’t make you a Ranger,” Poppy said crossly. “You had a moment of glory, and it does not allow you to wander free around Headquarters three decades after you earned it.”

“Sure it does,” Hettie sniffed and pointed her nose upwards. “Plus, I’m an old, senile woman. I can wander wherever I want and blame it on my age.”