Mack,â Stefan said. âNo screaming, okay?â
Stefan released Mack, who sucked air for several minutes, like Nine Iron Trout after a marathon.
âSorry,â Mack said. âI realize Iâm nuts. Okay? I know itâs craziness.â
Jarrah patted him on the back. âNo worries, mate; weâre all nuts or we wouldnât be here, would we?â Then, more serious, she said, âI felt something in there. Something carved inside the cabinet. Give us the phone light for a minute.â She aimed his phone light into the cabinet. âYeah. You canât see it; itâs carved in bas-relief.â
She fumbled for Mackâs hand and pressed it against the carving. Mack felt intricate bumps and swirls.
âItâs decoration,â he hissed.
âNah. I donât think so. It was squashed into me bum for the better part of half an hour.â
Mack focused and ran his fingers carefully, delicately over the carved area. âItâs like letters.â
Jarrah looked over Mackâs shoulder, then reached past him to feel the letters. âI think itâs Vargran. It has the same letters.â
âCan you read it?â
âNot all of it. Just a bit. Feel that? Thatâs the number nine. Nine snakes? Nine snakes on a wall?â
âI saw that movie. Awesome!â Stefan said.
Mack listened hard. No more footsteps. The guards had definitely gone on to search the other 9,998 rooms.
âYeah, thatâs Vargran,â Jarrah said. âNine hidden snakes. I think. And then a math problem.â
âA what?â
âA math problem: what is three fours?â
âEight?â Stefan guessed. Then, in the embarrassed silence, âIâm not that good at math.â
âTwelve,â Jarrah said. She squeezed Stefanâs arm, comforting. âYouâre good at other things.â
âHow do we get out of here, thatâs the question,â Mack said.
He turned reluctantly from the clock cabinet and stood up, sore knees cracking. Just in time to see Nine Iron thrust with his cane-sword.
Stefan saw it a split second sooner and was a split second quicker to react. He jumped in front of Mack. The blade pierced Stefan in the center of his chest.
Stefan cried out in surprise and pain.
Jarrah rushed at Nine Iron and shoved him onto his butt. The sword went flying, twirling across the polished tile floor.
Mack caught Stefan as he slumped forward.
âDude!â Mack cried.
âHuh,â Stefan remarked. He put a hand over the hole. Blood seeped through his fingers.
Mack heard shouts and rushing feet. No way to know whether it was guards or elves, and it probably didnât matter.
âRun!â Mack hissed.
They ran, with Stefan moving at half speed and looking as if heâd soon be going slower.
Much slower.
Chapter Nine
R un!â
They ran. Out into the courtyard. Dozens of flashlights stabbed the darkness like light sabers. Chinese voices were yelling.
Mack didnât know what they were yelling, but it was probably âGet them!â
They passed beneath an arch, up a ramp, down a staircase, running blind, no idea where they were going, just running.
But as they ran, Mack kept thinking he really should stop, give himself up. The guards would call an ambulance for Stefan. They could probably save his life.
But if they gave up, Mack would be kicked out of the country and sent home. What would become of the Magnificent Twelve then?
This was not the kind of decision Mack liked to make. Doom Stefan or doom the world. That wasnât like choosing between shorts and jeans. This was life and death.
But it probably wasnât going to matter much. Because suddenly Mack, Jarrah, and Stefan had run out of places to run.
They were boxed in. Guards were closing from three directions, and the fourth direction was a wall beautifully decorated in tile. Ten flashlights were in their faces, blinding their eyes.
âWe
CJ Rutherford, Colin Rutherford