“For the last time—” Clarence shouted over the Resistance clamor, “we have neither the time nor the resources to rescue Tigg with an elaborate Rube Goldberg machine!”
“Then why did you tell us to train so many weasels?” said a dwarf.
“I told no one to train weasels!” Clarence had veins sticking out of his forehead.
“Well, someone wanted to train weasels—”
“Dwarves always have ridiculously overcomplicated plans,” Busy told Lilla. “They really love building stuff.” Lilla still didn’t understand if the weasels were part of or instead of the Rube Goldberg machine. After a few days with the Resistance, she still got confused.
“Hey—” another dwarf said. “We could train a weasel to sneak a key in to Tigg!”
“And the other weasels distract the guards with a song and dance act?” said dwarf one.
“Not a bad plan—” said a third dwarf. “All in favor of Operation Weasel Musical—”
“No more votes!” Clarence said. “You have managed to vote for seventeen useless things this morning! Does it really matter what the flowering shrub of the resistance is?”
A very tiny pixie burst into tears. “Hydrangea!” it said between sobs.
“Clarence, you are not actually listening to this dwarfish nonsense, are you?” Now the centaurs were back in the mix.
Lilla groaned. The dwarves just had to get the centaurs going. Here comes another half hour of centaur rhetoric, another half hour she was never getting back. “Are all the meetings like this?”
“My mom said you guys used to, like, have battles and get stuff done,” Charlie said.
Busy sighed. “It’s been such a long time since we accomplished much of anything. They’re over excited. Anyway, it’s not like we need all these people. Like, the fauns are great at moonlight dancing, but I don’t think that’s going to get Tigg out of the Tower any time soon.”
“Oh, come on—” Charlie said. “Aren’t you even a little curious about Operation: Weasel Musical? What kind of act the weasels will put together?”
“Snappy tap numbers might work,” Busy said. “But let the dwarves do it, and the weasels will fall asleep from Wagnerian airs about misty mountains, flowing beards, and moody mines.”