Magic Mansion by Jordan Price (best fiction books to read .txt) 📕

By the end of his round, he was in the lead—though he suspected that Ken Barron, a professional escape artist, would beat his score. But when he saw Kevin Kazan hyperventilating on his way to the plexiglass tanks, he wondered if the escape artist might have some stiff competition. Barron must have seen it, too, because he opted to go for the mega-charged green button. Maybe he thought he was nervier than the other magicians who’d cracked under the probing mouths of the fish. If that was the case, he’d been wrong.

He clocked in at 2:43. Even with the fish.

Amazing Faye was even less impressive. She didn’t want to get her hair wet, and she complained bitterly when she broke a nail pressing the red button to open the tank’s lid. She managed a disappointing forty-nine seconds.

That left super-oxygenated Kevin Kazan…and Sue.

Ricardo felt sorry for her already, and he hoped that if she did experience a wardrobe malfunction, it could somehow be used to her benefit. Then he saw her inhale, and then swallow a couple of times—lung packing—just before the air was sucked out of her box, and he wondered if she might have a fighting chance.

Both Kevin and Sue filled their boxes with water immediately. Amazing Faye dropped out, and then Ken Barron, but Kevin’s and Sue’s scores kept climbing. They hit three minutes, adjusted. And then they hit four. Their timers both passed Ricardo’s 4:30, and continued to climb.

While Ricardo’s score had been the highest, it was Muriel Broom who’d spent the most real time without air—more than four minutes. It might not sound impressive compared to the world’s record, but in real time, the span seemed so excruciatingly long, it had left Ricardo wondering if maybe she’d actually passed out, and only remained standing due to some fluke of the way she’d planted her feet.

Sue and Kevin both surpassed that real-time, too. Their adjusted scores now read 6:45.

Kevin was massaging his diaphragm. Sue was still, except for one hand, which clenched into a fist, then released, clenched and released, as if she’d convinced herself it was doing the breathing for her. A flush spread over her bare shoulders. She squeezed her fist hard. But finally, at a whopping 7:02, she pressed the red button, released the water from her tank, and took a massive gulp of air.

Kevin allowed the timer to run an additional five seconds, as if to prove beating Sue was no big deal, before he released the water, popped the top on his box, and breathed.

All the magicians seated off to the side took a deep, sympathetic breath.

“Well done, magicians,” Monty said emphatically. “Well done. Let’s check the scoreboard.”

FISHTANK CHALLENGE

Kevin Kazan 7:09

Sue W. 7:02

Ricardo the Magnificent 4:30

Muriel Broom 4:22

Bev the Math Wizard 4:18

Professor Topaz 4:02

Jia Lee 3:02

Fabian Swan 2:49

Ken Barron 2:43

Chip Challenge :59

Amazing Faye :49

Charity Young and Oscar :05

Iain conferred briefly with Monty, handed him some props, and settled back behind the monitors. “Kevin Kazan,” Monty announced, “at seven minutes, nine seconds, you are the winner of tonight’s challenge. Not only have you established yourself as a force to be reckoned with…you’ve also earned yourself a place in the spotlight as the leader…of the Red Team.” He held up a gold medal on a wide red ribbon, and Ricardo’s world narrowed to the glint of the floodlights off the surface of the plating. Once upon a time, all he wanted was a chance at the Winter Games in Lillehammer. He hadn’t felt such sharp pangs of ambition at any point in his Magic Mansion journey (probably because he was distracted by Professor Topaz) but now, there they were, as plain as the shine on his patent leather shoes.

Magic Mansion was Ricardo’s Olympics.

Was anyone else as choked up as he was to see Monty holding that red ribbon meant for Kevin Kazan? Someone else there must have been an athlete once. The Professor—John—might understand, but John was behind him. He could hardly turn around and make eye contact without the cameras zeroing in on what he was doing. He glanced covertly at the magician seated to his right. Charity Young was there, holding her puppet, Oscar, at eye-level. She moved him gently, as if he was breathing.

Okay, not too many likely athletes among them.

Kazan approached Monty in front of the scoreboard and ducked his head to receive his medal—and Ricardo felt such a sharp pang of envy, it was a strain to force a smile. He would much rather have lost to Sue; at least she played fair. The only reason Kazan was on the show at all was because he’d cheated.

While it was a strain to keep the smile on his face, he held his head high with the knowledge that he had won his third place fair and square.

Monty held up a silver medal on a gold ribbon, and said, “Sue, come on up and take your place…as the leader of the Gold Team.”

Sue approached, a bit stiffly, possibly because her double-stick tape was finally giving way, and ducked to receive her medal. Ricardo felt a slight twinge of envy, but nowhere near as debilitating as the one he’d felt watching Kazan take his medal. The gold ribbon complimented her pink lamé nicely.

To Ricardo’s left, Jia Lee murmured, “Thank God they’re not going to make us wear those huge T-shirts in ugly team colors, like they do on Weighty Matters.”

And then Ricardo saw there were actually ten more medals waiting for them, twelve in all—six red, six gold.

“Or baseball caps,” Chip Challenge said, patting the watery wreck of his pompadour. “’Cos that would seriously cramp my style.”

“Kevin,” Monty said, “who will be your first pick for the Red Team?”

“Fabian Swan.”

Marlene’s voice threaded in through the monitors. “Kevin, act like you need to think about it. That goes for the both of you. I don’t care what you’re actually thinking about. Just look at everyone for a couple of seconds before you blurt out your answer and give our editors