“Hold on, Sierra!” Beck cried, shimmying through to the end and flopping out the other side. As Sierra tried to regain her balance and crawl forward, Beck reached back into the tunnel, grasped her forearms, and pulled her through with such force they both fell into the next room, Sierra sprawled on top of him.
He flashed her a winning smile. “I love this room.”
Sierra rolled off him as Carter and Adi yelped and spat profanities while making their way through the tunnel and tumbling to the floor. The lights went out again, and that awful clown cackled.“Not so fast! Let’s make the fun last!”
“Oh my god,” muttered Adi when the lights came back on. “If I ever meet that guy, I am going to shove that squishy red nose straight up his—”
“Mirrors!” said Carter.
The tunnel had led them into a maze of mirrors, their reflections bouncing back at them and continuing on and on . . . infinite. On the wall, another clock had stalled at 25:06. Twenty-five minutes so far, for the semifinal. That was good, right?
“Beck, where’s that note, the backward one?” asked Sierra.
Beck pulled out the note they’d found inside the chameleon and held it up to the nearest mirror, reversing the letters. He started to read out loud. “Are we feeling nervous yet, O . . .” He cut off, tearing his gaze away from the paper to scan the walls around them, landing on one of the small embedded cameras. He swallowed.
“What?” said Carter. “Is it another . . .” She lowered her voice. “Another clue?”
He nodded, and looked at Sierra, whose expression was shadowed. “We’re almost out of this room. Let’s finish this.”
Beck’s thoughts were spinning. Another clue. What had the Real Game Master written for them this time?
But then he glanced at the frozen clock, and he knew Sierra was right. They were so close.
He pocketed the letter.
“There’s more pigpen,” said Adi, shining the black light over the graffiti that was scribbled across the mirrors.
As he examined it, his expression grew increasingly bewildered.
“What?” said Carter. “What does it say?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” he said, sounding truly concerned. They all faced him.
“You don’tknow?” spat Sierra. “What was all that about having it memorized since you were—”
“It doesn’t make any sense, okay?” said Adi.
He pointed the flashlight at the graffiti, revealing a series of runes that definitely made no sense to Beck.
Going symbol by symbol, Adi read out, “U-T-M-U-N-C-W-U-T-M. . . It doesn’t spell anything. It’s nonsense.”
“No, that can’t be right.” Sierra grabbed the flashlight from him. “Maybe we’re supposed to start reading over on this side. Or it’s an anagram. Or . . .”
“Sierra,” said Adi, “I’ve looked at it from every angle. Nothing works.”
Sierra threw her hands in the air. “Why didn’t we hold on to that damn food boat? Ohright, because Adi had it memorized. Adi is a freaking prodigy. If he says he can read it without a cipher—”
“Reverse it,” Carter interrupted.
Adi glanced at her. “What?”
“We’re in a hall of mirrors,” she said. “What if it’s written backward, like . . . like the other message?”
Sierra nodded. “Of course. Adi?” When he glared at her, she added, “I’m sorry for mocking you or whatever, just do it.”
“On it,boss.”
“Tell me the letters as you figure them out,” said Beck. “I’ve got a good memory.”
