‘Great.’
I frowned, walking up to Bastille. ‘Is something bothering you, Bastille?’
‘Other than you?’
‘I always bother you,’ I said. ‘And you’re always a little grouchy. But today you’ve been downright mean.’
She glanced at me, arms folded. Then I saw her expression soften faintly. ‘Yeah.’
I raised an eyebrow.
‘I just don’t like losing.’
‘Losing?’ I said. ‘Bastille, you recovered your place in the knights, exposed – and defeated – a traitor to your order, and stopped the Librarians from kidnapping or killing the Council of Kings. If that’s “losing,” you’ve got a really funny definition of the word.’
‘Funnier than your face?’
‘Bastille,’ I said firmly.
She sighed, leaning down, crossing her arms on the windowsill. ‘She Who Cannot Be Named got away, your mother escaped with a pair of Translator’s Lenses, and – now that they’re not hiding behind the ruse of a treaty – the Librarians are throwing everything they’ve got at Mokia.’
‘You’ve done what you could. I’ve done what I could. It’s time to let others handle things.’
She didn’t look happy about that. ‘Fine. Let’s get back to your explosives training.’ She wanted me well prepared in case the war came to Nalhalla. It wasn’t likely to happen, but my ignorance of proper things – like exploding teddy bears – has always been a point of frustration to Bastille.
Now, I realize that many of you are just as ignorant as I am. That’s why I prepared a handy guide that explains everything you need to know and remember about my autobiography in order to not be confused by this book. I put the guide back in Chapter One. If you ever have trouble, you can reference it. I’m such a nice guy. Dumb, but nice.
Bastille opened one of the cabinets on the side wall and pulled out another small, pink teddy bear. She handed it to me as I walked up to her. It had a little tag on the side that said Pull me! in adorable lettering.
I took it nervously. ‘Tell me honestly. Why do you build grenades that look like teddy bears? It’s not about protecting children.’
‘Well, how do you feel when you look at that?’
I shrugged. ‘It’s cute. In a deadly, destructive way.’ Kind of like Bastille, actually, I thought. ‘It makes me want to smile. Then it makes me want to run away screaming, since I know it’s really a grenade.’
‘Exactly,’ Bastille said, taking the bear from me and pulling the tag – the pin – out. She tossed it out the window. ‘If you build weapons that look like weapons, then everyone will know to run away from them! This way, the Librarians are confused.’
‘That’s sick,’ I said. ‘Shouldn’t I be ducking or something?’
‘You’ll be fine,’ she said.
Ah, I thought. This one must be some kind of dud or fake.
At that second, the grenade outside the window exploded. Another blast threw me backward. I hit the wall with a grunt, and another piece of plaster fell on my head. This time, though, I managed to land on my knees.
Oddly, I felt remarkably unharmed, considering I’d just been blown backward by the explosion. In fact, neither explosion seemed to have hurt me very badly at all.
‘The pink ones,’ Bastille said, ‘are blast-wave grenades. They throw people and things away from them, but they don’t actually hurt anyone.’
‘Really?’ I said, walking up to her. ‘How does that work?’
‘Do I look like an explosives expert?’
I hesitated. With those fiery eyes and dangerous expression . . .
‘The answer is no, Smedry,’ she said flatly, folding her arms. ‘I don’t know how these things work. I’m just a soldier.’
She picked up a blue teddy bear and pulled the tag off, then tossed it out the window. I braced myself, grabbing the windowsill, preparing for a blast. This time, however, the bear grenade made a muted thumping sound. The sand in the next room began to pile up in a strange way, and I was suddenly yanked through the window into the next room.