The Supreme Executive puffs a cigar

as he stares rapt

at one of his market readouts.

Gray smoke hangs lazily over his desk

like streaks on a screen.

His head turns,

and his eyes meet She-What’s.

“You have returned, Princess.”

He does not regard

the others’ presence.

“Yes, sir,” She-What says.

“I have been informed,”

the Supreme Executive says,

“That you have been unsuccessful

in your mission.”

“I’m afraid so, sir,” says She-What.

“They were warned ahead of time

of our attack.”

“Did they put up stiff resistance?”

“None.”

“But you did not procure the boy?”

the Supreme Executive asks.

“No. He was absconded away

by an old man.”

“Who?”

“His name is Phantos Geist.”

The Supreme Executive’s eyes

flash.

“Phantos Geist, you say?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“No,”

says the Supreme Executive.

“I have never heard that name

before.”

“They left three days

prior to our arrival.”

“Three days? Where did they go?”

“The Underforest.”

“The Underforest,”

the Supreme Executive repeats,

sighing loudly.

“Of course that’s where they’d go.

Well, we can’t follow them in there.”

“No, sir.”

“Did you destroy the library?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, my dear.”

The Supreme Executive smiles,

and takes a big puff of his cigar,

blowing out a smoke ring.

“Sir?”

“Yes, She-What?”

“What do I do now?”

“Now?” the Supreme Executive ponders,

“For now we wait.

There is nothing we can do.”

She-What crosses her hand

over her heart.

“I am sorry I have failed you,

Supreme Executive.”

The Supreme Executive

shakes his head,

and smiles warmly at her,

revealing his pride.

“You did not fail me, She-What.”

His eyes turn to Secretary Fumeo

for the first time.

“But I will find out who did,”

he finishes.

Relief pours through She-What.

Nevertheless,

she still feels ashamed.

“Well, if there’s anything else...”

the Supreme Executive says —

a common refrain,

code that he is dismissing them.

Chys, Fumeo, and Sato turn and leave.

She-What lingers.

“Come here, Adena,”

the Supreme Executive tells her,

placing his cigar in his ashtray,

“Give your father a kiss hello.”

She-What walks around the desk,

and bends and kisses her father

on his cheek.

Beneath the cigar smoke,

he smells like old man’s aftershave.

His cheek is perfectly smooth —

he dilligently and meticulously

shaves himself every morning,

even though he can easily employ

a barber to do it for him.

“It is,”

the Supreme Executive told her once,

“A matter of discipline.”

“How was your trip, really?” he asks.

“Routine, mostly,” she answers.

“Are you glad to be home?”

“Yes.”

“Come to my home

for dinner tonight,”

the Supreme Executive tells her,

“there’s someone

I want you to meet.”

“Of course, Father,”

She-What says.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

She-What turns to leave,

then turns again.

“There’s something I forgot,”

she says to him.

“The man who took the boy —

the sages said he was dying.”

“Dying? How?”

The Supreme Executive asks.

“Stomach cancer. They said

he doesn’t have long to live.”

The Supreme Executive

strokes his chin.

“I see,” he muses.

Chys is waiting outside

of the Supreme Executive’s office.

“Fumeo left and took the car,” she says.

“We’ll call another,” She-What replies.

“What did your father want?”

“He wants me to come for dinner tonight.”

“Ug,” Chys groans. “That means

an evening with Miss Melissan.”

Melissan Spode

is She-What’s stepmother,

wife of the Supreme Executive.

She-What and her stepmother

do not get along.

“Yeah...” She-What mutters,

very unladylike,

“I better leave the Rainbow Sword

at home this time.”

Chys laughs. “In the meantime,”

“Let’s go shopping!”

to be continued...