“Besides, we need something dry, not liquid,” said Flora. “Otherwise, the treats will be too loose and won’t roll into balls.”
Georgia scratched her head. “Good point.”
“I might have something.” Flora stuffed a hand into her pocket and pulled out a purple packet. “We can use this.”
“What is it?” asked Sylvie.
“Diddly’s Delights Pep Powder … mostly chocolate with a bit of zingia. I was going to add it to my drink during the competition. You know, to give me an extra boost.”
“Kind of like an energy drink?” asked Georgia.
Flora nodded.
Sylvie looked back up. The competition was already taking on the air of a battlefield.Pumping dragons full of caffeine probably isn’t the smartest idea.On the other hand,chocolate and peanut butter is one of the all-time best combinations.
“Oh dear!” cried the announcer. “Looks like the Norwegians are in trouble. Odd Ivar’s genoise just exploded.”
Flames erupted as Norway’s kitchen veered back to a docking station.
“They’ll have ten minutes to regroup,” said the announcer.
Sylvie clutched the packet as she eyed Zotter. His knife glinted as he brought it down, sending another sugar dragon into a cwtch.
Above the action was LeGrande, floating toward the judges’ table, just as Sylvie had anticipated.
It’s now or never.
“All right,” said Sylvie. “We’ll use Diddly’s Pep Powder in place of the milk powder.”
Flora opened the packet and dumped half into the jar of peanut butter.
“Maybe we could use this for stirring,” said Sylvie, fishing a tongue depressor from an old science project out of her backpack.
“Perfect,” said Flora, giving the goopy mixture a stir.
“Let me see that,” said Georgia, pulling an old, rolled-up math test and a couple of rubber bands out of Sylvie’s bag.
Sylvie grabbed one of the snoozing honey packets, her eyes still on Georgia. “What are you doing?”
Georgia hooked a rubber band through a paper clip. “We still need a way to propel the peanut butter balls up to the dragons.”
“And my math test is going to help?”
“Yes.” Georgia’s tongue twisted between her teeth. “Paper. Rubber bands. Paper clips. That’s all you need to build a slingshot. Now, let me work.”
“Looks like Zotter’s first dragon is ready to be judged,” said the announcer.
With these words, the disk overhead lit up. Even from a distance, Sylvie could see people dotted around the massive circle. If her hunch was right, LeGrande would have a bird’s-eye view of what was happening below. Sylvie quickly rolled a couple of balls.
A shimmer caught her eye.
“Here comes Zotter’s cwtch,” cried the announcer.
“It’s showtime.” Sylvie handed a peanut butter ball to Georgia. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes. I used slingshots all the time to catch frogs with my dad.”
Flora lifted the enormous flag she’d borrowed from a group of Italians, blocking them from the view of everyone except the judges above. “We’ve got cover.”
