The Battle

by Karuna Riazi

  Was it his imagination or was there a shaky tile under his heel?

  Winnie turned to look back at him.

  “Everything okay?” she called.

  Ahmad managed a weak thumbs-up. She turned back to her puddle jumping as he slowly, painfully slid back his heel—

  And then the passage started to tremble again.

  Winnie gasped, “Oh no.” Her foot came down hard on the ground. There was an audible splash and, though Ahmad’s eyes were blurry from squirming against solid rock, he thought he could see the reassuring shimmer of cool water.

  And something else. A flash of starlike gold.

  “Grab it!” Ahmad called hoarsely. “Grab it, please!”

  Winnie ducked down and held out her hands, like she was trying to coax one of those hated pigeons in Central Park toward her. The fish leapt upward into the air, shining between the gaps in her fingers like a ray of the sun. And then—plop, back into the water it went.

  She looked up at Ahmad despairingly. “I missed it!”

  “Try . . . again.” Ahmad kept inching his foot back. Yes, there was a groove in the floor! He could feel it for sure now. He craned his neck around and gasped. “Winnie! Hurry!”

  The ball was barreling down toward him.

  Winnie grunted, her tongue stuck between her teeth. “If I could just—”

  The fish’s slippery body slid through her grip once again.

  Ahmad kicked out wildly, hoping that his heel would manage to connect in time.

  He didn’t want to die here, not like this.

  And then, he felt something give under his heel.

  The walls eased back, and he tumbled through, and kept sliding forward on the slippery tiles.

  “Winnie!” he hollered. “Look out!”

  At the same time, Winnie leapt to her feet, a golden glimmer caught between her cupped hands.

  “Got it!” she crowed, only to be cut off with a gasp as Ahmad collided right into her. They tumbled into the center of the crushed tiles, feeling artificial wet and cold seep into their pants, and hugged each other as they turned to see the marble bearing down on them.

  And then, the next thing Ahmad knew, they were falling through the floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AHMAD AND WINNIE SCREAMED as they tumbled and tossed down a watery slide.

  “Where are we going?” Winnie called out, somewhere near Ahmad’s ear. They were tangled up together, the precious fish slapping its tail against Ahmad’s stomach and not at all helping with his queasiness.

  “I don’t know!” Ahmad hollered back.

  Moments later, though, they rolled out onto hard cobblestones. Ahmad glanced up, recognizing the flying car parked near them.

  “We’re back out,” he murmured, awestruck.

  “And we still have our prize!” Winnie, looking a little wild-eyed and windblown, still managed to grin as she reached for the fish. Moments later, though, her face fell. “Huh? What happened to it?”

  There was nothing resting against Ahmad’s shirt but a shimmering jewel. Ahmad reached for it and held it up to the light. It glistened, first blue and then red, catching the light from the neon doorway. No key. And no lock.

  He was disappointed but couldn’t take his eyes off of the stone in his palm. “It’s beautiful,” he said in a hushed voice. “Do you think this is part of the monkey’s eye?”

  “Wait, you think this is part of the puzzle?” Winnie looked troubled. “Why would they give us some little extra piece instead of another carving?”

  “I’m sure it fits in there somewhere,” Ahmad reasoned. He reached for his pocket, but Winnie reached out and grabbed his wrist.

  “Not here!”

  “Oh, right. Sorry,” Ahmad said, embarrassed. “So what do we do now, then?”

  “What else?” Winnie stood and held out a hand to help him up. “We go back to Madame Nasirah’s shop and see if we can figure this out.”

  Moments later, Ahmad was holding on to his seat rest for dear life as Winnie gleefully steered the flying car through the pink sky of Paheli.

  “Do you really have to step on it?” Ahmad groaned. His tummy hadn’t quite recovered from their last mission. But Winnie gleefully stomped on the gas.

  In spite of her questionable driving, it did feel freeing to be out in the open sky. The oppressive nostalgia fell away from Ahmad’s shoulders as he stared down on the city, watching the sun glint off the buildings—and, beneath their imposed frames, the familiar glass panes of New York City skyscrapers and monuments.

  “Home is there,” he whispered. “Waiting for us.”

  Winnie nodded, her face grim. “It is. And it knows we are here, fighting for it, so we can’t give up, not now.”

  Ahmad turned to her, able to ask the question that had been weighing on him since the previous night. “You still feel it? That something is really wrong?”

  “Of course I do! It’s too quiet. Madame Nasirah is so twitchy, too. It makes me nervous.”

  “It might not be her fault,” Ahmad pointed out. “She doesn’t seem to have much control in this world.”

  Winnie sighed, and the rickshaw picked up even more speed. “Maybe. I don’t know. This world has me on edge. I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel like you can trust anyone here.”

  “You can trust me,” Ahmad said firmly. “And I can trust you. We have each other and that’s what we need. We promised, remember?”

  “Right.”

  For a moment, they smiled at each other. From behind them, there came a piercing wail.

  “Oh no!” Ahmad moaned.

  “Are you kidding me?” Winnie exclaimed.

  Because there, in their rearview mirror, was a car that—in spite of its ability to hover and flashy side emblem—could only be one thing, and the voice that bellowed in the moment afterward confirmed their suspicions.

  “THIS IS THE SAND POLICE FORCE OF PAHELI. YOU ARE INSTRUCTED TO TURN YOUR VEHICLE TO CRUISE AND FIND A SAFE PLACE TO LAND TO BE QUESTIONED BY THE OFFICERS FOR ILLEGAL VEHICLE USE.”

  Ahmad leaned his head out the window. “We’re players! We’re supposed to be here!”

  The shadowy figures in the police car did not move. After a moment’s pause, the voice repeated, “THIS IS THE SAND POLICE FORCE OF PAHELI—”

  “Forget it.” Winnie jammed her heel on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward. “This is another Architect trick, I know it. Maybe this is about that jewel we just got. We need to get out of here.”

  The police car buzzed behind them. Ahmad anxiously leaned out the window. “We’re players!” he called toward the car, cupping his hands around his mouth. “We’re supposed to be out here!”

  “Give it a rest, Ahmad!” Winnie hollered behind him. “They don’t seem to care!”

  What happened next had him quickly tugging his head back into the car. Two great cannons sprouted from within the police’s car hood and deliberately aimed at his window.

  “Whoa! They are going to shoot at us! Step on it, Winnie!”

  Winnie pumped the gas and yanked hard on the wheel. They careened to the side, just as a great ball of fire shot out past where they had been and slammed into the side of a flying billboard. It exploded, glitzy bulbs and bits of screen raining out over the city.

  “Hold on!” Winnie gritted out.

  They raced through the sky, angling between buildings. The police car continued to volley out shots behind them. Ahmad hissed through his teeth as one narrowly bounced off the hood of their car.

  “Ahmad! I need you to tell me if we’re going the right way!” Winnie called. “I can’t do this and think about directions at the same time. We need to shake them somehow.”

  “Okay, but—”

  They both froze as a second whine joined the first car behind them, and a smug voice announced, “FUGITIVES OF JUSTICE, YOU ARE EVADING FOUR OFFICERS OF THE LAW OF PAHELI. YOU ARE ADVISED TO REMOVE YOURSELF FROM YOUR VEHICLE BEFORE WE CONTINUE WITH DUE FORCE.”

  “Fugiti
ves?” Ahmad squeaked. He glanced down at the shimmering jewel in his hand. So he was right. This must be what they were after. But how could they be thieves and fugitives if they were supposed to find it?

  Either way, he couldn’t just sit there and let them be fired at like this.

  “Due force? They’re already shooting at us! Worse than the cops in New York. Ahmad, what are you doing?” The last was said in her now familiar, panicked shriek. Ahmad was halfway out the window.

  “Playing it their way,” he yelled back. “Hey, you guys in the clown cars! Bet you can’t do this! Winnie, head through there!”

  Winnie followed his pointing finger and gasped. “The Minaret!” It had its own raised platform in between two narrowly set, leaning buildings. If they could scrape through one of those passages, they would be able to make it back to Madame Nasirah’s shop without their troublesome shadows.

  The police cars sped up behind them. “Predictable,” Ahmad yelled. “They are part of this world. Of course they can’t resist a good challenge.”

  He leaned out the door, jeering at them, as Winnie jetted toward the passage. Ten feet . . . five feet . . .

  “Ahmad, now!”

  One final blast jetted out from the police car, colliding with the base platform of the buildings. It crumpled, heavy marble and thick wire swatting one of the cars out of the air like a fly. The others staggered and stumbled to avoid the debris.

  Ahmad yanked himself back in as Winnie jerked the car to the side.

  “We did it!” Winnie whooped.

  And not a moment too soon. They heard the telltale screech and slide of skidding wheels and shattering glass behind them.

  Winnie yanked on the brake and they slid in front of the alleyway, panting.

  “That . . . was . . . awesome,” Winnie breathed.

  Ahmad was too busy looking at the front of the tea shop. It was too dark. “Winnie, I think something’s wrong. Come on, quick!”

  Before they could reach the front door, though, a shadow fell over them. Winnie gasped and grabbed Ahmad’s arm.

  “It can’t be night already, can it?” she whispered.

  Ahmad swallowed hard and braced himself for that awful pressure.

  But instead, a screen scrolled outward, blotting out part of the artificial sky. It was a small black square that seemed as though it was painted on. Ahmad and Winnie stared at it.

  “What—” Ahmad started.

  And then, a figure slowly emerged from the black. An unseen camera zoomed outward from her small smirk and leopard-print bucket hat, and then outward to her camouflage vest and high pink boots. By the time it had panned out for a full-body shot, she was stepping out of the screen and down a set of unfolding stairs.

  “The MasterMind,” Winnie hissed. “What is she doing here?”

  Ahmad couldn’t answer her. Together, they waited as the girl approached them.

  What could possibly go wrong now?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  WELL, YOU SEEM TO be having a good time,” the MasterMind purred. “Out for a little joy ride?”

  “It’s not like we had anything else to do,” Winnie spat back. “What was the big idea, not giving us a proper announcement for a challenge?”

  “A challenge?” The MasterMind put on a look of surprise. On anyone else, it might have been believable. On her it would have been comical—if Ahmad and Winnie hadn’t nearly died completing the challenge. They glared at her.

  “Give it up,” Ahmad growled. “We figured it out already. You wanted us to waste time. I don’t know why you and the Architect don’t think you can win this without dirty tricks, but we—”

  He stopped short with a gasp as a snake dropped from the air, out of nowhere, and snapped its mouth at his nose before falling downward into nothingness.

  “The only one wasting time right now,” the MasterMind said with that fake sweet tone, “is you. Both yours and mine. There was no challenge to complete, Ahmad Mirza. I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ahmad’s and Winnie’s gazes followed her finger up to the sky. Winnie gasped in dismay.

  There was a new timer—a different timer from the one that had hovered over the marble maze they’d scrambled through—and it was at forty-five minutes. And counting.

  “I had given you a full hour. But I’ve taken fifteen minutes away, since you insist on being so contentious about every little thing,” the MasterMind continued. “In any case, it seems you guys need to pay more attention.”

  “But what about this?” Ahmad insisted, fumbling in his pocket. “This has to prove that . . .”

  His fingers collided with the object he was looking for, and he drew it out in triumph, only to be shocked. Wait, where was the jewel?

  “What is that?” Winnie asked, confused.

  There was another monkey carving in his grip. This one, though, looked different from the others. It was lighter, and cheaper, with an almost plastic sheen as they held it up to the light. And then, as the kids watched in horror, it started to crumble.

  “No! No!” Ahmad tried to hold it together with his fingers. “What’s happening?”

  “Oh, so I guess you stumbled onto my little decoy,” the MasterMind cooed. “Too bad, so sad. That’s not what you needed to get out.”

  “You tricked us?” Winnie seethed. “You actually tricked us?”

  The MasterMind shrugged coolly. “No one ever said this game would be fair. Funny. You were supposed to stumble onto that earlier on. I guess I overestimated your intelligence.”

  Winnie growled, but all Ahmad could do was topple to his knees, stunned.

  It wasn’t real. They had faced down death and scrambled after that ridiculous fish just for it to not be real.

  “What about the jewel, though?” he asked dazedly. “Where did that go?”

  For once, the MasterMind looked utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Before Ahmad could answer her, though, Winnie broke in.

  “That whole challenge was just a setup? I can’t believe you! What kind of game is this?”

  “Fuss all you want,” the MasterMind said, “but you’re just hurting yourself. Now there is a challenge, and you’re not even close to starting it. I would focus on that instead of how I handle my game.”

  “It’s not yours, though, is it?” Winnie snarled.

  The MasterMind’s face flickered with anger for a moment, but she only gave an elegant shrug. “We’ll see about that. Ta-ta for now!”

  She swept her hand down her body, magically erasing herself away as she went. Before her fingers could even glide over her ankles, the MasterMind was gone.

  “I can’t believe this,” Ahmad whispered to himself. “I can’t.”

  He felt sick to his stomach. This was his fault. Winnie had warned him that it was too good to be true, but he had been so confident. He thought he knew better. And now, look what they had gotten themselves into.

  Winnie leaned over him, her face concerned.

  “Ahmad, are you okay?” she asked. “Here, stand up. Let’s go into the shop and tell Madame Nasirah what happened.”

  Before they could reach the front door, though, the mice tumbled out, chattering and trembling.

  “Madame Nasirah is missing!” T.T. chittered. “She never returned from the marketplace.”

  “What?” Winnie gasped.

  One of the mice whimpered, “This is not normal at all.”

  Winnie’s face, beside him, was shocked. Madame Nasirah was the Gamekeeper. She was the only person who, besides their adversaries, could see and interact with them—and, more importantly than that, actually cared. “What are we supposed to do now?”

  Ahmad doubled over, panting and trying to stop his spiral. His brain wouldn’t stop whirring with worry. This was too much. He couldn’t take it. He just wanted to sit down, shut up, give up. Let them win. What chance did they have anyway, especially when the other side wouldn’t play fair at all.

  And, be
hind them, after an entire day of waiting, they heard the telltale firecracker spark of the Minaret. For real this time. Hearts pounding, Ahmad and Winnie turned their heads up to the sky and read the words etched there.

  FINAL TRIAL: BALANCE BOTH SIDES OF THE SCALE. BE SURE NOT TO GET DISTRACTED BY MONKEY BUSINESS!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  WAIT, NOW?” AHMAD GASPED in despair as the fireworks faded away. “How are we supposed to do this now? We have to find Madame Nasirah. And—”

  “Ahmad!” a strong voice called in the distance, and Ahmad whirled around, hoping to see the Gamekeeper draped in her shawls. But the face he saw was also a welcome one.

  “It’s your uncle!” Winnie gasped happily. “Where have you been?”

  Vijay Bhai jogged up to them.

  “Sorry,” he huffed. “I meant to be here sooner, but goodness, the time I’ve had trying to find anything in this new city.”

  “Vijay Bhai,” Ahmad blurted out. “Madame Nasirah is missing. And we just heard a new challenge being announced but we need to find her and I—”

  Vijay Bhai grasped him by the shoulders. “Whoa. Ahmad, breathe.”

  Ahmad tried, but he couldn’t seem to. To his embarrassment, tears prickled the corners of his eyes.

  “We thought we had the right challenge and we wasted so much time.” And nearly died, but he didn’t tell Vijay Bhai that. “It was all my fault. I believed it was the right challenge and it was all my fault.”

  “Ahmad, listen.” Vijay Bhai tipped up Ahmad’s chin with his finger. “These are the games played in Paheli. If you were tricked, it is not your fault. It happens. A lot. But I need you to take a breath and listen to me.”

  Ahmad stared into his uncle’s eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Good.” Vijay Bhai smiled at him, clasping Ahmad’s shoulders with his hands. “Now listen. You are a Mirza. There is no one who knows how to play—and win—a game better than a Mirza. There is no one who can be trusted more by their friends than a Mirza. The MasterMind and the Architect can play with you all that you want, but the only one who can stop you from losing is you. Do you understand?” Ahmad nodded. “Don’t lose your faith now.”