Chapter 24

Pip, to his eternal credit, swallowed hard and said, “The Luna, Alpha. But I was about to come back.”

“Were you.” Caspian sat down on the floor.

The Alpha of all Alphas sat cross-legged on a paint-spattered rug in his good council shirt and held out his hand for a controller. Finn put one in it as if he were handing over a live grenade.

“Show me how this works,” Caspian said. “Then I want a rematch against him. Best of three.”

He lost all three, badly, to a round thirteen-year-old in spectacles who forgot to be frightened somewhere in the second race and began to abuse his King with the ruthless joy of the very young. By the end, Pip was performing his winning dance two feet from the Alpha’s nose, and Caspian was laughing so hard he lay back on the rug.

Nana Odette sent the pups home at nine, and Finn up to bed. Finn stopped in the doorway and looked back at Caspian, still flat on the floor, as if trying to fit what he had seen into the shape of the wor