Her hair was a mess. She had soot on her cheek. Perspiration beaded on her nose.
He ignored it. “I’ll take a kabob,” he said.
“You mean-” She snatched one from the grill and brandished it, grinning madly. “A gorgon detector.”
He squinted. “I don’t think they work that way.”
“Of course they do. You hold it out-” She demonstrated. “And if the meat turns to stone, you’ve got a gorgon.”
“No I mean I think it’s got to have eyes if it wants to be turned to stone.”
She pursed her lips, then smiled triumphantly. “Here,” she said, and traded him a beef for a shrimp.
