“Now,” the Angel
says, turning to Larry, Curly and Mo. “How do you account for your
complete and utter failure?”
“We are most
dreadfully apologetic,” they reply, “But m'lady proved to be more
wilful than you led us to believe...”
“You're blaming me!”
There is a quiet rage in the Angel's declaration, Fiona realises
he's clenching his fists. “She's managed to offend one of my...
siblings, all but destroy Escher's maze, met the sandman who brought
her to us and break one of the archetypes and it's my fault?”
The three midgets cower
before his fury.
“We...we...we...”
they stammer.
“Please,” Fiona
interrupts, “I did those things, not them. Promise me no harm will
befall them.”
