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

a stick that looked just like all the others. He picked it up, then picked up another at random and compared them.

The first stick was significantly longer. At least half an inch.

John’s heart began pounding.

As his excitement welled in him with a wand in each hand, that elusive gap was bridged, and “yes” made total sense now. The underwater landscape of the wands lit up to John’s inner knowing, most of them aglow with the same intensity. A few, though, glowed brighter. And a very few (like the one in his right hand) glowed bright, as the concept of “longer” was communicated and disseminated.

He had one of the longest wands…in his hand. Now.

Out of the pool then, right away, to secure a time score. He surfaced just as Muriel climbed out and Sue wrapped a towel around her shoulders. No matter, it looked as if Bev, Ricardo and Kevin were going to stay in until the bitter end and attempt to win solely by the size of their wand, so even a few-second advantage might help him. He took a step toward the nearest side just as Ricardo surfaced—with a wand in his hand that shone so brightly to John’s inner senses, its brilliance stunned him.

The twelve inch wand.

And Ricardo, with water shimmering off the hard curve of his shoulder, the chiseled planes of his chest, was perfection itself. Yes, John had wanted that wand. And no, he didn’t for a moment begrudge Ricardo for it. Inside, he felt elated.

Until Kevin erupted from the water a heartbeat later, collided with Ricardo, and sent the wand pinwheeling away from his slippery grasp.

“No!” Bev shrieked, as dramatically as if someone has just been killed. And all at once, John saw she was going to dive for it.

He also saw that she was so ungainly in the water, he had a good chance of grabbing it for himself. Even from where he currently stood, three yards away.

He focused, and he dove.

Underwater was a churning mass of wands and bubbles kicked up by flailing feet. Both Kevin and Ricardo had fallen back, knocked apart by momentum and surprise. But despite all the confusion, John focused, and he looked. And there, shining like an invisible beacon among a half dozen other whirling wands, was the longest of them all.

John was almost upon it when Bev crashed down like a cannonball.

A siren shrilled, audible even underwater, and John got his feet under himself and stood.

“And that’s time, Magicians,” Monty said. “Let’s see your hands.”

John was surprised to see he was still holding anything at all. It was the larger wand…he hoped. He looked to the other three magicians to see what they’d come up with…and saw Ricardo covered in blood. “What happened?” John demanded, striding across the pool while the dowels beneath his feet stilled themselves to allow him to keep his footing. “Are you all right?”

Ricardo stuck his tongue out and touched it gingerly with his first two fingers. “Th’s fine. Bith my thung.”

“Wow,” Muriel said, “it’s bleeding like all getout.”

Kevin surreptitiously prodded at the side of his head. He was bleeding a bit too, John noticed. But only a trickle.

“Everybody just stay where you are and let the pros handle this,” Iain said, striding into the frame with two medics in tow. One of them set up a folding chair while the other came to assist Ricardo out of the pool. “Everyone’s got their tetanus shot, nothing to get worked up about.”

John slung an arm around Ricardo to help him to the side, although Ricardo attempted to brush off the assistance. He was unsuccessful; John was bigger. “Th’s fine,” Ricardo insisted. His chest was striped with stark runnels of blood.

“I got a ding on my head,” Kevin pointed out.

Iain squinted at him for a moment, and said, “Okay, fine, get over here and we’ll take a look. But hand your wand to the production assistant first. We’re not shooting this scene again.”

As Ricardo swung his leg over the side of the pool with John steadying him, he met John’s eyes. So much blood. “I’m otay,” he said.

John gave his arm an extra squeeze, anyway…and Ricardo returned the sentiment with a secret (if bloody) smile.

John climbed from the pool numbly. Accident? He wasn’t even sure if his own definition of the word fit with the one in the dictionary. He was given a black robe and directed to join the rest of the Red Team, who waited off camera, watching the medics. Maybe being voted out of the Mansion wouldn’t be such a terrible thing for either of them. Not if the alternative was attracting spite…which might make a True magician’s fortunes take a sickening little twist for the worse.

“Look at him bleed,” Jia murmured…and she wasn’t referring to her team captain who, it appeared, was receiving no more treatment than a dab of iodine.

“It’s mostly water,” Faye said. “It wouldn’t run down Ricardo’s chest like that if it were dry. But I’ll bet he gets a ton of screen time out of it.”

“Maybe next time you should hit me,” Jia said.

Faye shrugged and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter 22

SIZE MATTERS

According to the medic who’d stuffed his fingers into Ricardo’s mouth (Bob? Bill? something like that.) tongue injuries did tend to bleed profusely, but thankfully, they healed fast. Good to know. He also hinted that once it did heal, he’d be up for coffee. Or drinks. Or whatever. Thankfully, he didn’t find it odd when Ricardo declined to answer, given that he was covered in blood, and practically choking on moist gauze.

Since it took nearly half an hour before Ricardo could talk without re-opening the cuts, the makeup team descended with their spray bottles and made sure everyone looked wet once again before they heard the results of the challenge.

The magicians stood, tallest in back, with their wet hair attractively tousled, Gold Team in white terrycloth robes, Red Team in black, like exhausted boxers who’d just gone twelve rounds. The scoreboard had