Metaspides
Sitting down with a huff, Max shook his head. "This is ridiculous. What's wrong with these people?"
Tom's thoughts had wandered slightly. Something about Anna's name bothered him; it tickled something in the back of his mind. Miss Graham. Anna. Anna Graham.
"This phrase has to be the key," Hana said suddenly, pointing at the lines near the end of the poem: "All this you must ignore and hate, for you to find the wanted fate."
"Yeah, I thought the same thing," Tom said.
"Maybe it means—" Hana began, but stopped when Molly came bustling outside, clanging the door against the wall with his elbows as he balanced several plates and bowls heaped with steaming food.
"As promised," he said, setting the meal on the table. He almost dropped one plate onto the ground, but Max caught it and pushed it to safety. "Grab yer grub and eat. I'm as hungry as a one-legged possum caught in a dang ol' bear trap."