The Warlock Heretical

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"One… two… three—shoot!"

Four small fists swept down into a circle—and changed form. One turned into a rock, one turned into a pair of scissors, and two turned into sheets of paper.

"I win!" cried Cordelia. "Scissors cut paper!"

"Nay, I win!" Geoffrey corrected. "Stone doth dull scissors!"

"Then we two do win," Magnus pointed out, "sin that paper doth wrap stone."

"Yet I then win, after all!" Cordelia maintained, "for my scissors will cut thy paper from off this stone!"

"We all do win." Little Gregory beamed. " 'Tis fine."

"Nay, 'tis horrible!" Geoffrey's chin jutted out. "If all win, none win!"

"Thou wouldst think thus!" Cordelia snapped.

"Only a lass could ha' thought of so silly a game at the outset!" Geoffrey retorted. "Who e'er did hear of playing 'Scissors, Stone, and Paper' with more than two?"

"You must not let newness itself keep you from attempting new ideas, Geoffrey." The voice was in the children's minds, not their ears, and it came from a huge black horse that stood nearby, watching. "Still, in practice it proves to have been less than effective."

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