I don’t have enough time to object.
The Executioner demonstrates the game by asking the Pillar, “What’s your name?”
“Hookah Hookah,” the Pillar says as if he’s just used to answering it this way. It’s mind-boggling how believable he sounds.
“Where are you from?”
“Hookah Hookah,” the Pillar answers with a home-sick expression on his face. I suppose that deeper in his mind he was saying ‘Wonderland.’
Then the Executioner turns to face me. “Do you think the Pillar is a good man?”
Now, that’s a shocker.
Sneaky. The Executioner just asked the question I’m not sure how to answer. The game demands confidence and truth in the way I say Hookah Hookah.
It takes me a while to answer. “Hookah Hookah.”
In my mind, the answer is, ‘I don’t know.’ It’s the truth. I try my best to sound as if I mean it.
The Executioner’s sharp eyes pierce through me, his fingers reaching for his gun.
I shrug.
“Good answer,” he says. “I don’t know either.”
What? He read my mind?
“My turn,” I say. “Do you truly believe I will not shoot you without waiting for the next question?”
“Hookah Hookah.” He nods toward his guards, standing all around us.
Okay. He can actually read my mind. And I am toast because of the guards. But wait!
“But this means that even if I catch you lying in this game, I won’t be able to shoot you,” I argue. “Because your guards will shoot me first.”
“Smart girl,” the Executioner says. “In this game, only you or the Pillar will end up dead. Can you see how nonsense always plays in my favor?”