and multiply.”
“Ooo!” said the crowd.
Peter and Puck glanced at each other, shrugged, and stepped out of the bushes.
The Number Crunchers gasped and started to edge away.
“It’s okay,” said Rosemary. “These are my friends.” She looked at Peter. “Why are you snickering?”
“So, this was what you were reading when you were four?” said Peter.
Another shape darted forward, two blue pyramids balanced tip to tip. It hopped into Peter’s arms. “Peter the Valiant of the Merry Men! It’s been one-two-three-four-five-six years since you last read us!”
Peter flushed. “Hello, Dué.”
The crowd cheered. “Not just one reader returns, but two! Hurray! What a joyous reunion for the Number Crunchers! A feast! We must have a feast to celebrate!”
The shapes scrambled and produced a blanket from nowhere. They spread it out along the path and began setting down plates, forks, knives, and cups. Then came the platters of food.
Peter leaned towards Rosemary. “What are they serving us?”
She grinned at him. “Numbers, of course! Why else would they be called the Number Crunchers?”
“Can we eat numbers?” asked Peter.
“Certainly,” said Dué, pulling something from her backpack. “Here, have a four.”
Other numbers were being laid out on large platters, garnished with operands. Other shapes were mixing various drinks together to the precise millilitre. Number Crunchers ushered Peter, Rosemary, and Puck forward to the guest of honour positions. Rosemary placed Una beside her and sat down. Puck sat crosslegged, all points: elbows, knees, and chin. The others followed, until the blanket was ringed with geometric shapes, two humans, and Robin Goodfellow.
Peter took his four and sniffed it. He chewed at the stem and swallowed. “This tastes like beef jerky.”
“They do say math is dry,” said Puck.
Rosemary broke a four in half. The pieces reshaped themselves in her hands into smaller twos. She took a bite out of one and picked up a glass. “Try the numerade.”
Una was staring at Puck. “You know Robin Goodfellow?” she said to Rosemary. “You have moved up in your reading, Princess Rosemary. Has he been treating you well? Not leading you down mischievous paths, I hope. You are still quite young.”
“He’s fine.” Rosemary frowned. “He’s my guide through the Land of Fiction.”
“Why are you trekking through the Land of Fiction, Princess Rosemary?”
“To rescue my brother.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Rosemary caught whispers: “Theo! We remember Theo! He read us fourteen years ago. She took him. Rosemary is going up against Her. Oh, poor Princess Rosemary!”
Rosemary frowned. “You know about this?”
Una nodded sadly. “We have heard rumours.”
“Who’s kidnapped my brother? You said ‘her.’ Do you mean a girl, like me, wearing horn-rimmed glasses?”
“We don’t know for sure,” said Dué. “She is hard to read. All we know is that she is a powerful character. We stay out of Her way. Don’t go to Her, Rosemary. We don’t want you to be hurt.”
“She has no choice,” said Una. “She has to save her brother.”
“What does she want?” asked Rosemary. “Why did she kidnap Theo?”
“Because She is very angry,” said Una.
The other numbers nodded and repeated, “Very angry. Very, very angry.”
Una continued. “She is angry at you.”
Rosemary gaped at her. “Me? What did I do?”
“We don’t know,” said Dué. “We do not understand Her. We know you, Rosemary. You have been nothing but good to us.”
“Great to us!” clamoured the crowd. “We had such fun!”
“We learned how to add together,” said Una.
“And subtract,” said Dué.
“We made the numbers dance,” said Una. “Do you remember how we danced?”
Peter sunk his head into his hands. “Oh God, I remember. There was dancing.”
“Wait a minute,” said Rosemary. “What about —” A clatter of musical instruments interrupted her. A group of shapes holding fiddles, banjos, a washing board, and a milk jug scrambled together and started a tune. Other shapes took partners while a purple dodecahedron strode out to call the cues.
“Now bow to your partner. Now bow to the corner.”
“They’re square dancing,” said Peter.
Una began pulling on Rosemary’s fingers, her galoshes squeaking. “Come! Dance with us, Princess Rosemary!”
“But,” said Rosemary. “Hey!”
Dué pushed at Peter from behind. “You too, Peter!”
“But,” Peter stammered. “I — I’m not the dancing type!”
“Me neither,” said Rosemary, gripping the ground with her free hand. “I — I couldn’t. Puck? A little help, here!”
“Certainly,” said Puck, and pushed them onto the dance area.
Peter and Rosemary stood up, facing each other. Rosemary swallowed hard. Dué and Una joined hands as the cue caller spoke up. “Now swing your partner round and round ...”
Rosemary and Peter tried reaching for each other’s hand, got mixed up, and ended up slapping wrists twice. Una and Dué darted between their legs to opposite corners, and Peter and Rosemary had to shove past each other to complete the square.
“Crossproduct allemande!” called the cue caller.
“Crossproduct what?” said Peter.
“Like this,” whispered Una, twirling Dué between them. Peter and Rosemary hesitated a moment, then stepped into the square. This time Peter took Rosemary’s hand and she twirled, planting her foot directly on his toe. He stumbled, bumped her. She staggered. “Sorry!” They scrambled for their corners.
“Corner cross times two!” called the caller.
Rosemary switched places with Una through the centre of the square. Peter crossed with Dué. That had gone much better.
“Now do-si-do the cosine wave through all four corners
