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

reassuring…because in a one-on-one competition, someone would win, and someone would lose.

“And tonight,” Monty said, “any members from the losing team who do not win their leg of the challenge…will be up for elimination.”

There was a pause while Iain put a couple of grips in place for some sort of big reveal, in which Bev whispered, “But how will they determine the losing team? There are four competitions—what if each team wins two?”

Great. Not only do I need to worry about being put up against John…but at the same time I’ll probably be getting judged by some other criteria I’m not even aware of. In a way, figure skating had been a hell of a lot easier. At least when he was on the ice, he knew what he was being judged on.

Once the scene was blocked, taping resumed. Monty said, “The first part of the Four Prop Challenge is the playing card shuffle. Math Wizard, you have elected to represent Gold Team in this round.”

“That’s right, Monty. I’m very good with cards. I use them extensively in my act to teach addition and subtraction—and the children pay much closer attention when you present the cards with fancy cuts and flourishes.”

“Very good, Bev. And the Red Team magician you’ll be playing against in this challenge is…Kevin Kazan.”

Oh Jesus. Sure, Bev could handle a deck, but Kazan could cut and shuffle with a hand tied behind his back. Literally. He was going to eat Bev alive. Not only that, but pitting him against Bev raised the odds (to a point that even Ricardo could calculate) of going up against John himself: one in three.

“Your objective,” Monty said, “is to hold on to as many cards as you can, and finish your round with the highest number. Rank cards are worth their numbered value. Face cards are worth ten. Aces are worth eleven, and jokers are worth twenty. And you’ll be gathering those cards…in these.”

Grips hauled off the tarps and revealed a pair of tall, clear-sided cabinets.

“What are those,” Sue said. “Phone booths?”

Muriel said, “I was thinking shower stalls.”

Iain called, “Hit the air,” and a pair of compressors chugged to life. Motion erupted inside the clear cabinets as if they were a pair of giant snow globes. But instead of snow swirling through them, it was a red, black and white flurry of cards.

“Aren’t those things usually filled with dollar bills?” Muriel said. “You’d better watch it, Bev. A playing card’ll give you a pretty wicked paper cut.”

When the footage of the unmanned cabinets was adequate, Iain cut the air, and let the cards settle, then handed Bev and Kazan each a pair of safety goggles. Bev struggled to put hers on over her glasses. “They don’t fit. Can’t I just get a sports strap for my glasses?”

“Seeing’s overrated,” Iain said.

“But….”

“This stunt involves more luck than skill. Besides, you chose the challenge—Kevin didn’t. You don’t hear him whining, do you?”

Bev balanced her prescription glasses on the tip of her nose outside the goggles, and stepped into the cabinet without another word. Cameras rolled. “You’ll have one minute to gather all the cards you can,” Monty announced, “and your time begins…now.”

Kazan’s hat flew off, which made Ricardo smile…until he saw that Bev’s glasses had blown off, too. Thankfully, the glasses seemed to be the only vulnerable part of Bev’s costume. Her suit was sturdy and her short gray hair, even being whipped around, didn’t seem to get in her way. “Good thing I picked the scarves,” Muriel whispered. “Can you imagine me in there with my skirt flying up around my neck? Though it would be pretty funny….”

Bev flailed. Kazan flailed. And both of them were pelted by cards. It was difficult to tell if either of them had managed to catch any, let alone who was in the lead. Ricardo couldn’t imagine what it must feel like from inside the booths. Like trying to catch butterflies without a net. In a tornado.

But what if those butterflies were willing to meet Bev halfway?

There was no time to lose. Almost ten seconds had already elapsed. Ricardo threw his attention toward Bev’s cards, focused his ability, and nudged them toward Bev. And act natural, he hastened to add. He didn’t need a replay of the pink mylar dove incident from tryouts.

It was subtle, but the cards around Bev took on a different type of swirl, as if maybe she’d just planted her foot in front of the blower in such a way that the wind cabinet’s dynamic changed. Instead of bouncing into the ceiling and then falling down the sides, the cards formed a cyclonic loop—a good portion of them at the level of Bev’s grabbing hands. Ricardo was so pleased with their performance that he didn’t get a look at what Red Team was up to until it registered, in his peripheral vision, that Kazan had gone completely still.

Ricardo shifted his focus for just a split second, and the cards he was coaxing toward Bev erupted in an ecstatic, chaotic dance. As for Kazan…well, he’d apparently discovered that he could trap the cards against the top of the booth. And Bev? If the thought had even occurred to her, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Even if she stretched high, her fingertips couldn’t quite reach the ceiling.

Before Kazan managed to grab too many cards, the timer buzzed and the cards dropped. But Ricardo had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that the discovery of the trapped cards by the ceiling had given Kevin an unbeatable edge. Stagehands released the magicians from the booths, and they stepped out, Bev with a windswept hairdo at odds with the rest of her outfit, Kevin with his necklaces all spun around the wrong way and hanging down his back. “All right, magicians,” Monty said brightly. “Show us your cards!”

“Make sure the numbers are visible and face them toward the camera,” Iain called out. “Hold ’em steady for a dolly zoom.”

Bev arranged her cards, frowning, and held