Small Packages sat atop Commander Justice’s shoulder in Lord History’s seven-teenth century cottage’s living area. Lord History’s roommate, Captain Zion, sat in a rocker.
Small Packages asked him, “Are you sure he hasn’t just gone on a long walk?”
“No, he’s definitely missing.”
“How do you know and don’t tell me Lord History missed his tea time.”
Captain Zion stared back. Small Pack-ages groaned. “That really is it, isn’t it?”
“What can I say? He’s a walking cliché. He never misses his afternoon tea.”
“When did you see him last?”
“About noon.”
“If Lord Cliché’s not at dinner, maybe then we can worry.”
Commander Justice said, “Hold on now, little partner.”
Small Packages bristled at the dimin-utive. But he at least said partner. That was something.
Commander continued. “We need to take a better safe than sorry approach. He may not be alive by dinner. I’ll lead the search party.”
Small Packages sighed. “You win.”
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