I picked this one off the library shelves because it was a Cybils nominee, but I knew nothing beyond that. Turns out that it’s a second-in-a-series, but, hey, I found out that it works well as a stand-alone. I’m curious to know what happened in the first adventure, but Stewart did a smashing job working it into the plot of this book, so I really didn’t feel too left out. (Which, I suppose, could be a complaint: I wonder if it came off as too heavy-handed on the back story for those who’ve read the first one?)

The basic plot surrounds four children — Reynie, Sticky, Kate and Constance (who’s only three, an important point to remember) — who are geniuses, children with “special” talents, and part of a society founded by their patron, and friend, Mr. Benedict. This book takes place a year after the first adventure, when the four were going to meet Mr. Benedict for a special surprise. However, it turns out that Mr. Benedict, along with his assistant, Number Two, has been kidnapped by their nemesis, Mr. Curtain, and is being held for ransom. And (because it is the way in these books), it’s up to the four to follow Mr. Benedicts clues and rescue him. And (because it is the way of these books), it doesn’t go exactly to plan, ensuring that adventures, near-scrapes, and some close calls will occur.

Sounds corny, but I really enjoyed this book. Sure, my sophisticated brain was saying “These kids are precocious twerps” and “yeah, right” but, as is the way with blow-em-up-movies, I was having too grand a time to care. I liked the precocious kids, especially how they worked together. If there ever is a book about mind over matter (brains over brawn!), this is one. Hooray for the geeky genius kid who knows everything. But beyond that, the book screams for it not to be taken seriously. A random passage:

“How do you know all that? Constance asked.

Milligan glanced at her. She was sitting up straight in the passenger seat — unlike the others she hadn’t needed to duck — and Milligan frowned as something occurred to him. “You should be in a child’s car seat. It’s dangerous without one.”

Constance looked at him incredulously. “Are you joking?”

“A bit. Still, let’s do buckle up, everyone.” Keeping his eyes on the road, Milligan reached across and pulled down Constance’s seat belt strap, which because of her height (or lack thereof) ran diagonally across her face. She glared at him with her one visible eye.

“Feel free to adjust that,” Milligan said, giving her a lop-sided grin.

I think it’s meant to be all in good fun (nobody gets killed, for heaven’s sake), and for the sense of adventure — and friendship, and working-together-ness — to win out over anything more sinister. And I think the book is better for it. If it had been serious (think, oh, Alex Rider), I probably would have mocked it for its pretentiousness. But because it’s lighthearted, because it invites you to laugh along with the story, it’s able to tell a pretty far-fetched story without seeming heavy-handed. (And come off with a good “moral” in the end.) As and added bonus: no cliff hangers, no to-be-continued; the story nicely wraps itself up, while leaving just the slightest thread that could be spun into yet another book.

Which makes it that much better.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel. Thank you.)