Page 62 of A Shade Too Far
“Stop it,” Hiram chastised. “We don’t actually know anything until the question is revealed. Divination magic isn’t a precise science.” That much was true.
“Then how does it work?” I said.
He pressed his lips together.
“I’ll give you a fact for free.” Laurent shook his head at my words, but I ignored him.
Hiram blinked at my offer. “All right.”
“I’m Banim Shovavim too.”
“Interesting.” Hiram tapped his chin. “Okay. My magic pinpoints the categories, which mean nothing to us at the start of the game. The questions appear on these cards only once the slat has flipped.” He held up some of the cards, fanning them out to show that only one had printing on it. “Until the board, via Ephraim’s powers, verifies the answer as correct, we aren’t certain we even got the question right.” He stroked his mustache. “Though after so many years, we’ve hit a ninety-nine percent success rate.”
My lips pulled back in disgust. “And the point?”
“Answers for answers. Quid pro quo is only fair.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “What is it really? Curiosity? Blackmail material?”
He shrugged. “Since the magic rooted out a question about the Dewey decimal system for you, then I’d guess you have more than your fair love of knowledge. How would you respond?”
“Knowledge is power.” Laurent’s words echoed the thought in my head. “And the devil is in the details,” he added darkly.
Hiram shook his head. “The actual quote is ‘God is in the details.’”
Laurent looked ready to rip the man’s head off.
I briefly buried my head in my hands.
“Now back to the game.” Hiram was once again the upbeat host, but I blinked because he’d appeared in a close-up with the light glinting off his perfect white teeth even though he hadn’t moved from behind the podium. “Do you have an answer or is this round forfeit?”
I cast my mind back to that day. There’d been this one book I’d been eye level with while on my knees, its subject matter at such comic odds with my actions, that I’d screwed my lids tight. Luckily, Dex hadn’t been one for procrastinating and the entire thing was over quickly.
“The Dewey decimal numbering was 440–449,” I said tightly.
A slat under the category title flipped around with a bing, revealing the answer.
“That is correct!” Hiram grabbed his cane and banged it twice against the ground.
Loud applause burst out. I imagined taking a machine gun to whatever supplied the audience reactions.
Hiram touched his ear like a director was communicating with him. “We have ourselves a two-parter, people. For a follow-up question, and the second right answer in this round, what was the subject matter of that classification?”
I sighed, my eyes on my lap. “Christianity and Christian theology.”
Another slat turned around with a binging sound.
“The milk of human kindness,” Laurent said with a bland smile.
My hands clenched into fists.
“Laurent,” Hiram said. “Your turn to pick the third question of round one.”
“Libraries,” he said cockily.
“Bastard,” I muttered.
“Great topic.” Hiram tapped a new card against the podium. “Laurent, what book ended up being overdue by a year because you read it over and over again, crying every time?”
