The Song of the Winns by Frances Watts Page B

had the idea of making them the responsibility of the Sourian army. Their father had given his life in service of his country, after all—let the army work out what to do with his children. And so jobs had been found for them at the palace in Cornoliana.
    Alice shook her head. “Poor Rita and Raz,” she said. “What a miserable life they had.”
    â€œBefore you get too sentimental,” Solomon Honker said, “there’s something you should know.”
    â€œWhat’s that, sir?” asked Alice.
    Her teacher lowered his white head very close to hers. “They hated Gerandans,” he hissed.
    Startled, Alice leaned back in her chair, but Solomon Honker leaned too. “And guess what that means?”
    â€œI . . . I don’t know, sir,” said Alice.
    â€œIt means, Rita of Tornley, that you hate Gerandans too.”
    Not for the first time, Alice had a sense of how difficult their undercover operation was going to be. Being Rita meant being completely unlike herself—and being it so completely and convincingly as to fool everyone she encountered. And Alice had never been a very good actor. . . . She hadn’t really questioned it before, but now she wondered why, exactly, Tobias had selected her and Alex for this very dangerous operation. Was it really just because they were the same age as Raz and Rita? It seemed beyond strange that FIG would pick two young mice at random and send them on a mission on which so much depended. Her musing was interrupted by her brother’s voice.
    â€œWhat happened to the real Raz and Rita?” Alex asked.
    â€œKilled in a house fire,” said Solomon Honker briefly.
    Once they had absorbed all the available material on the short lives of Raz and Rita, their teacher instructed them to open the file marked “Tornley—General.”
    â€œDo you think we’ll ever stop reading about our undercover mission and actually go on it?” Alex muttered under his breath as they plowed through a stack of reading material about life in Tornley. Flicking throughthe sheaves of paper, Alice noticed a map of the town, a section on rivers and streams (including which were best for swimming), a description of the school Raz and Rita had used to attend, pictures of their neighbors, lists of—
    â€œThis afternoon,” said Solomon Honker from his desk at the front of the room.
    Startled, the two young mice looked up.
    â€œExcuse me, sir?”
    â€œYou depart this afternoon, right after lunch, so if I were you I’d try to get through as much of that information as I could.”
    â€œYes!” crowed Alex, who obviously wasn’t concerned about details like neighbors and swimming streams.
    This afternoon? Suddenly Alice felt woefully unprepared. How would she ever fool anyone that she came from Tornley? With a sense of panic, she picked up a page describing the best-known landmarks of Tornley and began to read.
    â€œHow are we getting across the border?” Alex asked Solomon Honker.
    â€œYou’ll see,” their teacher replied.
    â€œWill we have to slip across in the dead of night?”
    â€œYou’ll see.”
    â€œWill we be in disguise?”
    Their teacher shook his head.
    â€œWill we fly by owl?” Alex asked hopefully.
    â€œOswald’s busy.”
    â€œDo you know an eagle?”
    â€œYoung man,” said Solomon Honker, finally losing patience, “if your preparation is not complete, I will be forced to tell Tobias that the operation must be canceled and you won’t be going anywhere at all.”
    Alex hastily bent his head over the pages.
    For the next hour there was no other sound than the rustle of papers, then Solomon Honker rose from his chair and crossed the room to stand before his pupils.
    â€œLet us see how much you’ve retained. What is the favorite pastime of the children of Tornley on a hot summer’s night?”
    Alice, glad that he had opened