April 21

arrow, fit, exceed, spontaneous, dairy, academy, cheap, request, treat, skip

Several cavernous rooms spread out before us. Jasmine headed down to the captives and the rest of us separated to explore the large studio.

“I expect every arrow to stay in that quiver, Jas,” I said. “No using those men for target practice. Be good and I’ll buy you a treat.” I craved ice cream, but no dairy for Jas. Elven-born were lactose intolerant, the poor things.

She gave me a wicked smile over her shoulder. “I’ll honor that request as best I can,” she said. “But, no promises.”

Poa’s usefulness continued to exceed my expectations. He gone down a corridor to the right of the balloon room and came running back waving papers. “It really is for artists! See?”

The first sheet he gave me was a letter welcoming students to Mad Hatter Art Academy. There was a flyer that advertised “Fit for Fashion,” a fashion show featuring student-designed active wear. The final paper showed tuition and a list of students’ fees so cheap that I could have afforded to attend.

Sidi and Captain Ogie led us through other rooms: a room filled with sculptures in varied stages of completion and another so stuffed with easels there was barely room to move. We decided to skip rooms that appeared to be galleries. A final arched doorway led us to a great gallery comprising many connecting rooms.

Floor to ceiling murals depicted people playing every sport that required headgear. The next room had murals of headwear through the ages, from the straw hats word by the earliest Egyptians and Asians today’s bucket hats.

“Would you look at that?” I whispered. Every single human drawn on the walls had the same blue glow that came from the shoeboxes.

“Row, don’t get angry…” Poa began. He had a “spontaneous confession” look on his face that made my stomach knot. “About that glow you all keep talking about…I can’t see it at all. Not on the walls, not in the boxes…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I was amazed. Everything glowed like the Northern Lights.

He hung his head. “Um, Jasmine. I didn’t want her to think less of me.”

I don’t think Jasmine thought of him in any amount. But I am the very essence of tact and so I said, “We need information like that. Thanks for letting me know.”