Mr. Imoo had saved Travis–BUT FROM WHAT? His fear of dark enclosed spaces? Of getting lost forever underneath the temple? What if Eyebrows had simply wanted to get even for Nish’s snowball? But if that was the case, why would he bring another guy along with him? Another mean-looking guy.

Mr. Imoo had only noticed that Travis had headed into the tunnel and was seeming to take a very long time coming out the other end. He hadn’t gone down to rescue Travis from any murderers or anything, just to show him the way out. Visitors often panicked and froze in the tunnel, apparently.

“It happens,” said Mr. Imoo. “Don’t worry about it.”

But Travis couldn’t stop worrying. What was going on? Had he been right–was it the camera they wanted? And if so, what was in the camera that was so important to them that they’d break into the Owls’ residence and then chase Travis into a sacred temple?

When they got back to the Olympic Village, Travis got Sarah and Nish to sit down with him and go through the video cassette. There was the waiter, and it certainly looked like Eyebrows. And there he was again at the ski hill. And there was Nish tossing his snowball.

“It’s me he wants,” Nish said, almost bragging.

“But why break into our rooms?” Travis asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe he meant to play a trick on me but couldn’t figure out which bed was mine.”

“That hardly takes a rocket scientist to figure out,” countered Sarah. “Just look for the unmade one with all the clothes dumped on the floor.”

“Well, what then?” shot back Nish. “You tell us.”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s something to this, though. Travis is right.”

Several times they went over the tape. A waiter. Two men unloading a snowmobile and a sled. No poison. No explosives. Nothing.

“I still think we should show it to the police,” said Travis.

“Show what?” Nish asked. “There’s nothing there.”

Travis sighed. He and his friends were missing something, he was certain, but he didn’t know what.

“We better get going,” said Sarah. “We’ve got a game at two.”

This time the Screech Owls were up against the Matsumoto Sharks, a much better team than the Sapporo Mighty Ducks. Big Hat was almost filled for the match, and the sound when the Sharks came out onto the ice was almost as loud as if an NHL team had arrived. No one booed, however, when the Owls came out after them. The Owls’ parents cheered from one corner, where they were all sitting together with their Screech Owls banners and Canadian flags, and the rest of the packed rink applauded, politely, as if the Owls had come to Nagano for a spelling bee instead of a hockey tournament.

The Sharks passed well and weren’t afraid of shooting. There was no sense here of older sempai or younger koohai players. And the goalie, from what the Owls could gather during warm-up, was excellent, with a lightning-fast glove hand.

“I should be playing the point,” Nish said to Travis during the warm-up. “We’re going to need my shot.”

Travis nodded. Nish might be right. But Muck still had him playing backup goal, so Travis didn’t think there was any chance Nish would get into this game. If the Owls were going to win, they’d need Jenny in net all the way.

Muck started Andy’s line, just to surprise the Sharks. Andy’s line checked wonderfully, but they were slow compared to Sarah’s line, and when Muck called for a change on the fly, it seemed to catch the Sharks off guard.

Dmitri leapt over the boards and took off for the far side of the rink, looping fast just as Sarah picked up a loose puck and rattled it hard off the boards so it flew ahead of Dmitri and beat him over the red line. No icing–and Dmitri was almost free.

Travis joined the rush. There was one defender back, and he didn’t seem sure what to do: chase Dmitri or block the potential pass.

Dmitri solved his opponent’s dilemma by cutting right across the ice, straight at the backpedalling defenceman. The defender went for Dmitri, and Dmitri let him catch him, but he left the puck behind in a perfect drop pass.

Travis read the play perfectly, and picked up the sitting puck to burst in on goal. A head fake, a dipped shoulder, and the Sharks’ goaltender went down.

Travis backhanded the puck high and hard–right off the crossbar!

The ring of metal was followed by a huge gasp throughout Big Hat. The goal light went on by mistake, but the players knew Travis hadn’t scored.

The defenceman who’d been fooled picked up the puck and backhanded it high, nearly hitting the clock.

The puck slapped down past centre, and was scooped up by a Sharks forward in full flight. A clear breakaway!

Jenny came wiggling out to cut off the angle. The forward faked a slapshot, delayed while Jenny committed to blocking the shot, and then held on until he had swept farther around her, lofting an easy wristshot into the empty net.

Travis came off and looked down the bench toward Nish. His friend had his goalie glove over his face, afraid to look for fear Muck might be signalling him to go in.

“Defence stays back,” Muck said calmly. “That doesn’t happen again, understand?”

Everyone understood. There would be no more breakaways.

Little Simon Milliken got the Owls moving later in the period when he cut off a cross-blueline pass and broke up centre, a Sharks defenceman chasing frantically.

Simon waited until the last moment, and instead of shooting, dropped the puck back between the chasing defenceman’s legs, perfectly on Liz’s stick.

The play caught the Sharks’ goaltender off guard. He’d counted on Simon going to his backhand, leaving the far side of his net open.

Liz fired the puck hard and true, the net bulging as a huge cheer went up from the little Canadian section.

Heading into the third period, the score was tied 3–3 when Sarah took matters into her own hands. First, she set Travis up for an easy tap-in on a beautiful end-to-end rush. Then she sent Dmitri in on a breakaway, and he did his usual one fake and roofed a backhand. Then Sarah herself scored into the empty Sharks net in the final minute.

Owls 6, Sharks 3. But it had been a lot closer than it looked. They had won, yes, but no one felt good about how they had played. The Screech Owls had looked sloppy on defence, and defence was an area of the game in which they all took enormous pride.

“We play like that against Lake Placid,” Muck said in the dressing room, “and we won’t have a chance.”

Muck and Mr. Dillinger had scouted the Lake Placid Olympians when they’d played the night before. A strong team with excellent skaters and one tremendous playmaker, the Olympians, Muck figured, would be as strong an opposition as the Owls had ever faced.

“We play like that again, and we won’t have a chance,” Muck repeated.

No one said a word. Travis knew that Muck was looking around the room. He could sense that Muck had looked at Jenny and wondered if the Owls would be in better shape if Jeremy were with them. He knew that Muck had looked, as well, at Nish and wondered if perhaps they shouldn’t have Nish and his big shot playing out instead of sitting on the bench in goaltending gear he barely knew how to put on.

But Muck could hardly change things now. If he did anything with Nish, Jenny would think that Muck didn’t have enough faith in her, which would only make her more nervous. He had to stick with Jenny, and was forced, also, to leave Nish where he was.

“If Lake Placid wins tonight, it’s going to be them and us in the final,” Muck said, finally. “Do you think you’re ready for it?”

No one spoke. Travis knew, as captain, he had to say something.

“We can do it,” he said.

“We’ll win,” said Sarah.

“Good,” said Muck. “That’s what I want to hear.”

But did he believe it? Travis wondered.

More important, did the Owls believe it?