Rook

minutes inside something the techies referred to as ‘the swarm of bees.’ ”
    “Why is it called that?” asked Myfanwy suspiciously. “Because it buzzes?”
    “Oh, probably,” said Ingrid evasively. “After that, we have to have the dogs sniff you…” She trailed off as she scanned her list.
    “You know, the dogs didn’t react to the Grafter that Shantay’s people pulled in,” said Myfanwy. “They walked her past them and there was no growling at all.”
    “True,” said Ingrid. “But Security Chief Clovis feels that since the dogs picked up Van Syoc, the chance is worth taking. Now, after the dogs we have three gentlemen who are going to lick you.”
    “Lick me?” Myfanwy asked in horror.
    “Yes. Actually, we’re very lucky. We only had two men who were qualified to lick, but we were able to bring one of the students in from the Estate. Really, you have to pity them, because they’re the only three lickers we have and so they’re going to have to lick every member of the Checquy.”
    “But how old is this student?” asked Myfanwy desperately.
    “He’s seventeen.”
    Myfanwy’s stomach turned at the news. “And where is he going to lick me?”
    “In the examination room,” said Ingrid.
    “What? No, what I mean is, whereabouts on my body will they be licking me?” demanded Myfanwy.
    “The tip of the index finger of your right hand,” said Ingrid, as if it were obvious.
    “Oh, thank God,” said Myfanwy, limp with relief.
    “Honestly, Rook Thomas, what were you thinking?” asked Ingrid with amusement. “That they were going to lick every inch of your body?”
    “Stupid, I know.” Myfanwy laughed weakly.
    “Very stupid,” agreed Ingrid. She checked her list. “We don’t have anywhere near the amount of time that would take.”

32
     
    Dear You,
    I really think I deserve much more credit for not developing a drinking habit in light of the repeated prophecies of my doom. But then, I’ve always been cautious of alcohol. At the Estate, booze was strictly forbidden. “A clean mind and a clean body make for a perfect weapon” was what one of the teachers used to say. Of course, there was always something available if you really wanted it. Once in a while, a group of kids would sneak out to the nearest village, or try to. I mean, we were on an island, so it wasn’t easy. Plus, as you can imagine, our teachers had been well trained in the art of surveillance.
    But for those who wanted a little kick, there was that girl whose hair would get you high if you ate it.
    Or that guy who could trip you out if you let him touch your eyeballs with his fingertips, which I was never willing to try.
    But I digress.
    Several weeks after my shopping spree with the immortal Greek fashionista, I was sipping my coffee and watching the sun come up. Generally, Ingrid is the first person in, but I had somehow managed to beat her into the office by a few minutes and was taking advantage of the opportunity to do my most favorite of tasks: go through the mail. It’s probably the result of my years at the Estate, where no one ever got any letters, but I adore getting mail. Normally Ingrid gets to it first, but this time I did, and so I was the first to see that intriguing little package.
    Most of the post wasn’t particularly interesting. A couple of scientific journals on the nervous system and neuroanatomy (I do a lot of studying). Interoffice memos from the Estate, the Annexe, Gallows Keep, and ApexHouse. A couturier in Gloucestershire had been imprisoned for using rodents as indentured servants. That damn mobile forest had been told in no uncertain terms that it should stop mobbing lonely farmhouses. The accounting department was going to review the R & D department’s requests for Clydesdales. And there was an invitation to the annual Court Christmas party, to be held at the house of Conrad Grantchester. All the members of the Court had been invited, along with their families.
    Of course, since I don’t have any family to bring, I generally find myself pounced upon by a Court member’s wife who wants to hook me up with someone. I don’t know whether their husbands go home at night and tell them all about the spinster at the office or if it’s that obvious I’m single. The only consolation is that they do the same thing to Gestalt.
    Oh, well. At least this would give me a good excuse to wear one of those dresses Lisa had picked out for me. Not the red one, of course. Nor the purple thing