The New Champion (20 page)

“I need you, Red Demons!” He chased them over the hill and around the barn, loading his DiamondSabre with three Light Brigades and illuminating more diamonds along the way. Zap! He got the ones from the gopher hole. Zap! From the footbridge. Zap! From the pond.

The GatherBag was hanging much lower on his thigh. Five pounds yet? The clouds had given way to patches of blue and peeks of sun. The barn was in better repair, too. The barn had diamonds! Cameron jolted a whole army of Red Demons on his way. He added the barn stash to his bag.

Enough? If he took off his gear to weigh the diamonds and was a single ounce short, he'd have to get dressed again. But it would also take time to fight Red Demons if he didn't have a Light Brigade left. New plan. He'd try for the diamonds in the shack, but if he was out of Light Brigades, he was done.

Third button. “Pow!”

The last Light Brigade left the DiamondSabre.

Cameron collected the stash. Now! Time to weigh! But where was the Battle Antechamber? He raced around the perimeter of Diamond Valley but didn't see a door. Maybe the Illuminator would.

He ran the length of one wall, shooting the Illuminator every couple of feet. Nothing. He turned the corner, and yes! Before he pushed the newly illuminated exit door, he lifted off the GatherBag, threw off his goggles, shoved off his boots, then wriggled out of his suit, leaving everything in a heap. His mother might have a fit, but he wouldn't score points for neatness.

He grabbed the diamonds, went out the door, and skidded in his socks to a stop in a hallway. This wasn't the Battle Antechamber. Where was it?

C
ameron turned right and ran along the curved hall. It kept curving. It was circular! He'd find his way eventually. Just wall. More wall. Then a door marked “Estella. Clio. Cameron!”

Inside, bathed in light, was the scale. He plunked the GatherBag on it. It did nothing. Oh! The bag. He dumped out the diamonds. A window lit: “6.14 lbs.”

The door clicked open, and there was Bill, silent, holding another bag.

“So?” Cameron said.

“So what?”

“Am I in or out?”

“You're out,” said Bill. “Out of Diamond Valley.”

Cameron gave Bill a little push. “Stop scaring me like that.”

“Then stop setting me up.” Bill handed Cameron the bag. “You'll need these.”

His shoes.

“Go put them on in the lounge. Meanwhile, I need to rescue Estella from Diamond Valley. Or maybe Diamond Valley needs to be rescued from Estella.”

Clio turned from the refrigerator when he walked in. She held up a bowl of grapes. “Congrats! Want some?”

“Thanks.” He broke off a bunch. “How long have you been here?”

“About ten minutes. Wasn't that great? The effects? The sun? Those Light Brigades? Loved it.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I'm a girl, and I really did.”

“Sorry,” said Cameron. He popped some grapes into his mouth.

“It's okay. You couldn't know how much I love video games, the more swords the better. But you know what Diamond Demons needed? A whole waistband of weapons. Go in there with DiamondSabres blazing.”

Cameron laughed. He'd be going head-to-head with Clio, with the best. It would have been more fun to beat Jig or Dacey. Wait. He'd already done that. He laughed some more, then turned it off when the door opened.

Estella shrugged. “I got carried away,” she said. “Kept swinging at those Demons like there was no tomorrow. Except the green guys. They kept laughing at me until I learned how to vaporize them. Vaporized eight of them.”

“How'd you do that?” Clio said. “Mine only had three blasts.”

“Every time you slew ten of the red clouds, it reloaded another Light Brigade,” said Estella. “How'd you do it without blasting them?”

“I dropped a few diamonds in another place; then one of the Green Demons left his post to come guard them. So I dropped four and collected a bigger pile. Repeat, repeat, repeat.”

“And you got here faster than me,” said Cameron.

“Faster than me, too.” Estella sank into her chair. “The quiet here is so good. Getting out my frustrations, good. Facing Stephen again, very good. Winning some money, whatever money is in that trunk, excellent.”

Bill came in.

“This is my cue to leave.” Estella stood and gave Cameron a hug. “If it's not me, I'm glad it's you and Clio.” She gave Clio an even bigger hug. “Thank you, friend.” She let go and hugged her again. Then she broke free and headed to the door.

Bill held it open, then came right back in. “Five minutes or are you ready now?”

Cameron nodded at Clio.

“We're ready,” she said.

“All right,” said Bill. “One last time, hold on to your chairs.”

The room moved.

“No Demons,” said Bill. “No market. No barrage of keys.” The room stopped. They stood, and Bill put an arm around each of them. “I would say, ‘May the best contestant win,' but there is no better contestant here. I wish there were two prizes.”

He positioned them inside a moonlit hall, and with the first few notes of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” their doors opened.

Spanning the far wall of the vast and darkened room were shelves crammed with boxes and boxes and boxes. It might not have been the entire Golly catalog, but there were enough toys and games to stock a whole toy store.

On a near table, next to a square object with a trigger handle, was the challenge card:

 

The day's been long, but you've been strong.

No need to tease, the rules are these:

 

1. You will be presented with a number of riddles.

2. The answer to each riddle is an object very closely associated with one or more of the Golly products before you.

3. When you figure out an answer, find an associated product.

4. Scan its UPC code with the scan gun provided.

5. For each correct scan, a puzzle piece will light up.

6. If you scan incorrectly, it will take two correct scans to light up your next piece.

7. The answer to some riddles will be associated with more than one product. You may scan up to two products for each answer, thus lighting up to two pieces per riddle.

8. When you can identify the puzzle picture, find the one associated product, grab it off the shelf, open it, and you will know what to do next.

 

“I hope I'll know,” Cameron said to whoever was listening. But first, he needed riddles. No drawers in the table. Nothing else in the room, the ginormous room with the gigantic shelves and all those toys on all those shelves with all those colorful tabs sticking out. What were they?

Bookmark-sized riddles! Cameron gathered six of them. He read one. Then another. Then another. He shook his head. Why had he thought this would be quick or easy? He took the tabs back to the table and reread the blue one.

 

When you're down, you want to go up,

When you're up, you want to come down.

Here's one more clue: It's mixed up in delis,

No matter your city or town.

(Two puzzle pieces available.)

 

Up and down again. But why delis? Cameron started craving corned beef. Later.

So what goes up and down? An elevator? Yes, but he had to think toys. A sled. When you're at the bottom of the hill, you need to go up to ride down again. Same with the zip line. But where did the delis come in? Not just any delis, mixed-up ones.

No. “It's mixed up in delis.” What did they mix up there? Batches of potato salad and coleslaw? People's orders; make sandwiches with the wrong meat? He needed to stop picturing plates of food. Why delis? Why not fast-food places or diners? Cameron had nothing.

He moved toward the Golly product wall for inspiration. The toys and games were stacked and packed solid. It almost made him dizzy. He drifted to the shelves of oversize items. Each seemed to have its own space, so it wasn't as overwhelming. They ran the gamut, from Aim Right Archery to Up 'n' Down Swing Set.

Up 'n' Down? Was that it? Cameron looked at the box.

“Includes swings, slide, gliding horse.” Wait. Back up. The slide! Delis! Mixed up, the letters in “slide” spelled “delis”!

He grabbed the scanner from the table and pointed it at the UPC code. The scanner's display lit up: “Up 'n' Down Swing Set? If yes, scan again.”
He did. The scan gun went dark. But a little light came from above. One of the ceiling tiles now had pinpoints of color.

He needed to collect his second puzzle piece available from that riddle. What else? A slide in a computer presentation? Golly didn't make those. Slide. Slide! In science! Microscope!

Cameron went to the
S
's. Science the Golly Way! He scanned it twice. Another ceiling section lit with bits of color. No telling what the big picture was yet, but he knew what to do.

Next riddle. A green one.

 

I come all dressed in black and white.

My pedals pump a tad.

Just touch the keys and you will please

Unless your playing's sad.

(One puzzle piece available.)

 

Key? Pedals? Black and white? His dad watched an old TV show where they called police cars “black-and-whites.” And cars have keys. And pedals that don't move much. At least they don't appear to. Timothy's parents let him back the car out of the driveway, but Cameron's didn't. If he won, he'd take himself to the go-cart track. He'd been sick last month for Sameer's birthday party there.

It was getting harder and harder to focus. He needed to push through. Black and white. Okay. Pedals. Fine. But touching keys? Just touching a car key wouldn't start the car; you have to actually
turn
it. And you don't exactly think of cars as pleasing. Black and white with keys and a pedal and something you played.

Was it this easy? Piano? Maybe so. This riddle scored only one puzzle piece. Maybe the two-piecers were harder.

He ran to the
P
section. No piano. But Golly made one. What did they call it? Baby Grand by Golly! Over to the
B
's.

He scanned the box twice. Looked up. Another piece, more pinpricks of light, but unconnected to the others. It looked familiar but not enough to risk a guess.

Next. He picked up another blue riddle, but it was the same as the first blue. The second green was a repeat, too. He tried orange.

 

Head, sweat, or waist, you may find at my left hand.

And at my right hand, you may find leader, width, or stand.

(Two puzzle pieces available.)

 

Where should he start here? With the repeated word: “hand.” A person has hands. A clock has hands. Animals have paws. Except gorillas and chimps? Were theirs called hands and feet? Even they don't have heads near any hands. Waists, either. You could have sweaty hands, but unless you're some muscle-bound freak, you can't exactly hold a leader, like a president, in one hand.

It didn't say anything about holding. Head, sweat, or waist might be at the left hand; leader, width, or stand, at the right. Did all of them need to be there at the same time? If they did, it would say “and” instead of “or.” So sometimes he'd find one of the things—

Things? Not necessarily. What if they were talking about words? Words on the left hand that came before some other word. Words on the right that came after.

Worth a try. First, “head.” Head what? Head case? If they made him think much more, he'd turn into a real head case. Head what? Headlines? Headquarters? Headphones? No, no, and no. Head. Head. Headache. This was giving him a headache. Forget “head.”

“Sweat”? He wasn't going there, not the way his own head was sweating. And “waist”? He could only think of the other waist: waste can, wasteland, waste away.

He switched to the words on the right: “leader, width, or stand.” Something leader. Something leader. Fearless leader? World leader? World! At least a good word. But it would be worldwide, not world width.

Cameron started to shake his head, but his neck was stiff. His whole body felt encased in cement. Should he switch riddles? Not yet. He'd already invested this much time. He sat on the desk, closed his eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to slow down. One word: “stand.” Headstand? No. “Head” was on the list already. Handstand? They wouldn't give the answer in the clue. But his brain kept repeating it. Handstand. Handstand. Hand width. Hand leader. Head hand. Sweat hand. Yeah, sweaty hands.

He felt like something was there. Something was just off. Waist hand. Hand leader. Hand leader. He closed his eyes and listened to his mind saying that again. Hand leader. Hand leader. And then came his trumpet. And then Mr. Wichter, the band teacher. Bandleader! Bandwidth! Bandstand! Waistband, sweatband, headband!

He was in business! Two puzzle pieces. He ran straight to the One-Man-Band Show, a favorite when he was little. He scanned it twice but didn't take time to see the new puzzle piece. He ran to the
B
's, to the classic Golly game Band of Thieves. He scanned it. Scanned it again. Now he looked up.

Four of the pieces were connected. Four brightly colored pieces with . . .

Fireworks! He'd read about Golly's game called The Fireworks Factory, but he'd never seen it. If he'd never seen it, why did the picture up there look so familiar? Where had—