Evie scowled, mainly at Deirdre. She didn't like any of the redheads in this building apparently. "Okay, first, don't call him that; it's stupid. He told us his name." They weren't eight year olds playing dress-up here; there was no reason for her to act like they were in the middle ages or some shit. "And second, nowhere in the rhyme did it say anything about a name. Only the thing in the bow. Which was the hat. A name is not going to help us not get blown into little bitty pieces." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew something had gone bad. Her stomach twisted up and her broken hand in her cast hurt and everything in her body seemed to be trying to warn her of something.