The Pervects and Bee clung to the broad, furry back. Tolk led them out the door.
"Watch it watch it watch it!" the Canidian said over his shoulder. "Sometimes the floor falls out from under you!"
"That way," Pologne said, pointing right.
The All-Pervects turned left.
"Go left!" The Sorcerer's Apprentices reached a T-in-tersection. Melvine flew upward to look out at the top of the maze. At the lip, he flattened out like a bird smacking into a window.
"Magikal force field," the Geek explained. "They all try to do that."
"Can't get out to see!" Melvine yelled.
"Oh, I wish I had my detector," Pologne said. "I hate not being able to use technology! We'll go right again." The Manticore galloped forward, only to have to back out of a narrow spot that led to a blank wall. Pologne cried out in frustration.
"All right, it must be three rights and two lefts! Left again! Now!"
The All-Pervects cleared their last right turn and let out a cheer at the sight of the pillar. They were moving quickly. I could see victory written on their faces.
Suddenly, the Sorcerer's Apprentices burst into view, riding on the back of a full-grown Manticore. The furry beast
galloped into the circular chamber just a pace ahead of the home team. The beast swung wide, depositing its passengers onto the floor near the wall.
Determined, the Pervects poured on extra speed, heading for the pillar. Crasmer, at the lead, was just about to take the key off the pillar when a canine head ducked under his hand, seized the golden object in his mouth and gave them a friendly smile.
"Sorry sorry sorry," Tolk said. "I believe that's ours."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Only one will remain." D. TRUMP
"No, for the last time, it's not illegal to use the monster from the Monster Monster Challenge as a steed," the Geek said as the All-Pervects surrounded him, shouting for justice. "There's nothing in the rule books. You can do anything you want to the monster as long as you get past it to the Final Chamber. Didn't Schlein say anything goes? Well, it does!"
"I heard them talking to that Manticore," Grunt argued. "That's collusion."
"They picked a marble at random out of the box, same as you," the Geek said, passing his hand over his horned head wearily. "It was a one-in-a-billion chance that they had met the guy before. Look, you might have known the dragon. There was one on the Troll team—you saw him. I'm sorry, fellows. The decision is final. The Sorcerer's Apprentices won. Come on, let's go back and smile for the audience. You don't want the rest of the universe to see Pervects as sore losers, do you?"
"Why the hell not?" Crasmer asked.
Bunny and I stood by as the All-Pervects let themselves be bandaged and daubed with makeup by the Geek's numerous assistants. I didn't want any trouble. I wore my most fearsome expression, which Bunny assured me looked just like Aahz with a hangover. Inside I was beaming with joy. My students had won!
Tananda and Markie seemed to shimmer into existence beside us. "Congratulations, Hero," Tananda crowed. "That was fantastic! I was all set for a big fight, but this was better! You should have seen the confusion in the ranks, there. No one knew what to do about it."
"They were all set to mop up blood," Markie pouted, still in character, "but no one liked them being friends. That's mean?
"What's next?" I asked.
Bunny held up one finger. "Only the final ordeal, to see who wins the grand prize."
"Ordeal?" I swallowed nervously. "What kind of ordeal?"
"Well, it varies," Tananda said. "On Zurik it was whoever could dodge the most bullets. That got a little messy, even for Gnomes. Mmm, I can't remember what Sink or Swim: Mantico did."
"That was the great Lightning Battle," Markie giggled.
"These all sound kinda fatal," I said.
It came back to my friends that they were dealing this time with people that they knew. That put a different face on the subject.
"All we can do is hope for the best," Bunny said.
"I think we can do better than that," I said. "I'll just remind him that for every one of those kids who gets hurt, I'll pull off one of his limbs."
A drum roll came from the invisible orchestra. Schlein stepped forward.
"And, now, for the final contest, for the all-over winner, the being who will be awarded a once-in-a-lifetime job with Mistress Monestruc, we present The Final Ordeal! As always, the fairness of this contest will be decided by Frankenmuth, Spalanade and Rockrose, our accountants." Three Sittacomedians in blue suits and striped ties stepped forward.
"Does anyone know what we're going to be doing?" Freezia asked. "I'm still tired from the last couple of stunts."
"Will it be like any of those?" Bee asked.
"It could be worse," Melvine said grimly. "I remember one on Trollia where the players threw knives at each other."
Tananda scoffed. "That one was nothing. Bronze knives that didn't go even two inches into the contestants' fur."
"Well, maybe that's so," Bee said. "So the contest might be geared to the team itself?"
"But we're not the home team," Freezia pointed out. "We might get through it, but you're not Pervects."
"I won't hurt any of you," Jinetta insisted. "You're my friends!"
"Whatever happens," Pologne said stolidly, "if I win and any of you survive, I'll give you all jobs—if I have any hiring authority."
"If I make it, I'll heal evetyone," Tolk swore.
Emotions were having a battle royal on Melvine's face. "I really want to win this, guys. But I'll do it fairly, I promise."
"I'll throw it, if I have to," Bee said. "I can't hurt my team. What would Sergeant Swatter say?"
I cleared my throat and turned it into a growl. "He'd say do your best, and play fair."
"Gosh, you're right, sir. You must know Swatter pretty well."
"I do," I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "And I know the kind of people he'd pick for a squad. Do what you think he would do."
Bee grinned unexpectedly. "He'd figure out some way everybody could come out of it alive, sir. And Master Skeeve would figure out a way we could all win."
"I—He sure would. Good luck, kid. Good luck to all of you."
"Thanks, Aahz," they chorused.
Schlein struck a pose. "Step forward the Sorcerer's Apprentices!"
The team appeared in a spotlight. They were holding one another's hands and looking young and scared.
We all went up to sit in the bubble with the Geek. The Sorcerer's Apprentices were a team. I was proud of them. In fact, I was sort of proud of me. They had absorbed what I'd been trying to hammer into them about teamwork and delegation and finding their own strengths. I guess I'd done it right. Whatever happened from now on was all their own. I wished them victory.
Schlein swooped in upon the cluster of students and peered at the audience over their shoulders.
"The Sorcerer's Apprentices will decide The Final Question with a killer round of Rock Paper Scissors!"
I gawked.
"Rock-Paper-Scissors?" I looked at the Geek. "After all those brutal rounds?"
The Deveel laughed at me. "You must not watch the show much," he said, leaning back and snapping his fingers. A crystal decanter rose out of a drawer and poured him a dram. "If it looks like the home team is favored, we always have a nonlethal competition set up. The ratings drop pretty badly if we kill off the locals."
"Yeah, but that's a kiddie game. You're insulting your audience."
"S—Aahz!" Bunny said. "You want something more dangerous?"
I waved away her protest. My businessman instincts had kicked in.
"Won't this be the opposite of what they expect?"
The Geek sat up. 'You think this won't get lively? Watch how we do it. Special effects! Music! Lighting! And there's Schlein giving the live commentary. The man's worth his weight—er, a LOT in gold."
The audience was already chanting. "We want the champion! We want the champion!"
"You all know the rules," the Sittacomedian instructed the group. "As soon as the count is complete, present your hand. We're playing this for—sudden death!"