AHMAD WAS TORN. WHAT Amari suggested actually did make sense. But how would they challenge the jinn? Could they really trust two probably not-quite-reformed villains?
Before anything else could be said or done, a tremor shook the earth.
Ahmad tumbled backward, Amari nearly toppling to the ground next to him.
“What was that?” demanded Winnie anxiously, but before any of them could respond, there was a soft cackle.
“That, my child,” the jinn said, raising one reddish hand toward the sky, “was the sound of a new era!”
It was then that Ahmad realized the puzzle box was lying open again, its lid flapping in the wind.
And it was letting out a whole new challenge. Large letters flashed lightning swift against the darkening sky.
TRIAL: EVADE THE DEMON ARMY AND COMPLETE YOUR TASK—IF YOU CAN!
“D-demon army,” Ahmad stammered.
But Winnie was already grasping his arm. “Ahmad! Look!”
Out of the box had popped a large green leg. Well, not only green. It was past that sickly, sallow shade, marked by mildew and aged rot. Wet black sludge dripped off its scaled knee and trickled over its clawed toes. What followed wasn’t any more comforting: a torso held together by sheer might and stubborn sinew. Its head had one eye dangling onto a moth-bitten cheek and horrendously sized canines prodding from within bloodless lips.
“I did not sign up for zombie soldiers,” Winnie said in a quavering voice. “Can we get them to bring the creepy birds back?”
Ahmad backed up a pace, keeping his grasp on Winnie.
The first hideous creature was joined by another. They multiplied as quickly as cells under a microscope.
“I—I don’t think we get to be choosy anymore, Winnie.”
“Indeed you don’t,” the jinn hissed. “You’ve been coddled and pampered enough by my nephew’s sorry schemes and childish whims. It’s time for a different game: a truly dangerous game that doesn’t consider how you feel about it. What is it you young humans say? Ah, yes: The training wheels are off now!”
The jinn turned and gestured toward the closed, tight-lipped gate of Paheli. Before Ahmad’s and Winnie’s shocked eyes, it flung itself wide, pixels shimmering and quavering.
“The rules are simple. Whoever reaches that gate first . . . rules the world. Everybody wants to rule the world, don’t they, young Mirza?”
“Isn’t that a song?” Winnie mumbled under her breath.
“That sounds incredibly simple,” scoffed the Architect, but his voice quavered.
The jinn sneered at him. “You would like to think so, wouldn’t you, nephew?”
The Architect cowered, turning his gaze to the ground.
Ahmad narrowed his eyes. It did sound incredibly simple. Too simple to be true.
“I would try to negotiate, but I suppose that’s off the table,” he said as calmly as he could.
“You’re a fast learner, Mirza,” cooed the jinn. “Exactly the type of challenger I hoped you would be.”
Ahmad looked back at Winnie, trying to read her expression. She nodded, just once.
We can do this.
We have to.
Ahmad turned back to the jinn, pulling his own spine taller. Winnie believed they could, together. The memory of the promise they made—to keep going, together— bolstered his courage.
“Game on.”