John nodded stonily.
“That leaves one magician,” Monty said. “Bev Austin, the Math Wizard. At the last moment, Bev, you went under yourself.” Bev nodded. She seemed to be holding her breath. The entire Gold Team was holding its breath. “It seemed like a last-ditch effort. Can you tell us what was going through your mind?”
“Well, I…I can’t even say for sure. I thought I saw the wand. And it looked to me as if Professor Topaz was on a perfect trajectory to get it himself. And then…well, all I could think of was that the Gold Team had to win.”
“Bev, the judges have reviewed the underwater footage from the last seconds of the challenge, and it showed that when you dove down to pick up your wands, you grabbed with both hands, and you picked up a total of three. We did confirm that one of those wands actually was the twelve-inch wand. Unfortunately, because you broke the rules and picked up more than two, your score is disqualified. You will be eligible for elimination in the next challenge. But cheer up, Bev. The Gold Team has won the Wand Pond challenge, and is going into the competition with a huge advantage. And tomorrow, you’ll be spending the afternoon with David Blaine!”
Once most of the camera crew went home and the magicians headed back toward the dorms, shaking with adrenaline and chill, Ricardo heard Bev whisper, “David Blaine, didn’t he used to be on Saturday Night Live?”
Conversation turned to whether Kevin had injured Ricardo intentionally or they’d just managed to bang heads. Ricardo wouldn’t have put it past Kevin to slam into him accidentally-on-purpose, but Muriel said it looked as if everyone was just super-focused and super-motivated, and that they’d all flown into a tizzy when the last few seconds ticked by. And while Ricardo might have nearly lost his tongue to Kevin Kazan’s hard head…at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that while a middle-aged mathematician who didn’t know David Blaine from David Spade would be wined and dined by the most infamous street magician of their time, Kazan would be busy sweeping up sawdust.
___
Though it would have been sensible to try to get some sleep, John wandered the grounds instead until after midnight wondering if the best thing for him to do would be to take a dive and remove himself from competition entirely. Because obviously, in going for the twelve-inch wand (which should have been basically impossible to find, and yet fully half of the remaining contestants had been vying for it) he’d nearly exposed the very secret he’d implored Ricardo, on the day of their first meeting, to keep to himself at all costs.
The secret that a few individuals had access to the Truth, while the rest of the world did not.
His pacing brought him no clarity of mind, but he supposed it would be best to turn in before he drew a freak sinkhole to himself, or a rabid raccoon. Or a rusty nail that might manage to circumvent the tetanus shot John’s contract had obligated him to obtain.
Thankfully, the lights were out in the Red Team’s dorms when he returned. Though the room seemed much more spacious now with only him and Kevin in it, John missed Fabian’s company, and didn’t particularly care to be alone with his team leader. It was a relief to find him already asleep. John undressed and slipped between the sheets of the strange bed with the lights off, and began searching for a pleasant memory to lull himself to sleep—the Alaskan cruise he’d booked to celebrate Casey’s successful run at the Starlight Lounge was usually a good one…though lately he found it seemed a bit stilted and out-of-focus compared to his sharp, vibrant memory of Ricardo taking the stage with him at the tryouts, breathlessly graceful…and, yes, a very cute twink, as Casey would have said.
John was just beginning to drift off to the memory of Ricardo’s eyes flashing as he chimed his silver linking rings together, when Kevin Kazan, in a quiet, singsong voice, said, “Don’t go thinking I didn’t notice, back there in the pool, Ricardo was the one you chose to help.”
John considered mentioning that while their collision had left Kevin with a nick on the head, Ricardo had been gushing blood…but he decided it was better to keep his eyes shut, and pretend he was asleep.
Allowing themselves to be drawn into altercations was another common way in which True magicians met their ends.
It was well into the wee hours before sleep finally came.
___
Ricardo poked the steak on his plate. It was too rare, swimming in a pool of its own red juices. Just what he needed to see after all that blood last night. Muriel took a bite of tiramisu and sighed happily. Initially, it seemed that she’d opted for three desserts rather than an appetizer or an entree just for the sake of being…Muriel. But given that Bev’s halibut was dry and Sue’s pasta was mushy, Muriel might actually have been on to something.
Sue poured herself another glass of merlot. “Not that I believe anything they say at this point…but didn’t it seem like David Blaine was actually going to be eating dinner with us?”
“He did try a breadstick,” Muriel noted.
“He stayed eleven minutes, thirty-two seconds,” Bev said. “And I’ll bet it gets edited to make it seem like we were together all afternoon.”
“I wish he could have stayed longer,” Sue said. “He had great hands. But at least he showed us that card flourish. Now we can all say we’ve had a personal lesson from David Blaine.”
Ricardo smiled to himself. That would really stick in Kevin Kazan’s craw.
Bev said, “So have we given any thought to how we want to play tomorrow’s big challenge?”
Gold Team had earned the advantage of knowing what the challenge would be, a head-to-head competition in handling four specific props: hats, cards, silks and rings. They would be allowed to choose which team member played in each round. Red Team was going in blind and being deployed at random (or, more likely, at a producer’s whim.)
Although, did that really matter? Each member of Red Team was a skilled magician. Every one of them was probably good with all four props. Ricardo supposed he should be glad Gold Team won the advantage. At least he wouldn’t need to watch one of his teammates handling the rings while he fumbled through a deck of cards.
___
Between the dust masks and the leather gloves and the steel-toed boots, John felt as if he should be riveting a skyscraper together instead of swabbing off the wainscoting with a tack rag. But Marlene had insisted there’d be hell to pay if anyone shed so much as a single drop of blood. Plus, the extreme wardrobe probably made Red Team’s “punishment” look significantly more difficult than it actually was.
Another advantage to the dust masks was the fact that they didn’t exactly encourage communication between the team members. John had gone into high avoidance-mode with Kevin, though he had the sneaking suspicion that it was too little, too late. Never perform True magic when the rabble is close enough to see it’s no trick…including fellow magicians with plenty of technique and no Truth. Especially those. Because they could sense the inner circle to which they would never belong, and their envy was particularly toxic.
Perhaps, John thought, it would have been best to play the assertiveness card earlier, back when they were planning the cabinet, and Kevin had started butting heads with Fabian. Not now that Fabian was gone, and the biggest threat to Kevin’s machismo from his own team—really, the whole game—was John.
Chapter 23
CARDS AND HATS
Shooting began early on the day of the Four Props Challenge. Ricardo barely had time to finish his crunches before a PA came to the dorms and told him to meet his team in the ballroom. He chose his stretchiest outfit—no binding waistbands or even flowing sleeves today. The sparkly black stretch top and lycra slacks fit like a skating costume. He didn’t want anything to get between him and those rings.
It occurred to him, as he soared down the stairs two at a time, that this was the first challenge he’d actually been excited about participating in. And maybe, if he was really lucky, he’d even be up against Kevin Kazan. Because if that jerk wanted to butt heads again, Ricardo was totally up for it. Big time.<
br />
He paused in the doorway and scanned the ballroom. Something tall and tarp-covered dominated the far end of the room. The scoreboard, currently unlit, lurked to the side. Still more crates and boxes waited among the lighting and camera gear—stacks of them.
It looked like it was going to be a long shoot.
He joined his teammates on a sofa covered with a gold throw. Sue had on an adorable pink hotpants outfit, Muriel was in her traditional fortune teller getup, and Bev had chosen a tweed pants suit. Ricardo supposed it looked better on her than the swimdress. Across the room, the Red Team assembled on a couch covered in a red throw. They all wore black—Kevin annoying in a glitzy track suit, sideways baseball cap and too much jewelry, John sleek and elegant in a formal suit, Jia particularly stunning in a tuxedo-styled bodysuit with a halter closure that bared her arms and shoulders, and Faye looking like Faye, intense and slightly too thin, in a very short mini dress. He didn’t suppose he missed Faye, exactly, because she’d never really bonded with the team, not in the way everyone else had. But even though her defection hadn’t been her own idea, the way she’d gone about it left a bad taste in his mouth that went far beyond his wounded tongue.
Which still throbbed…though he wasn’t going to let that discomfort get in the way of showing whoever would oppose him that if there was one thing he knew how to handle…it was linking rings.
Crew milled around and fussed with small details, while stylists made the rounds and primped everyone’s hair and the script supervisor went through some lines with Monty, and finally, about an hour and a half later, a hush fell over the bustling people on the sidelines (who the home audience never got to see) and cameras rolled.
“Today,” Monty said, “the Gold Team will pit their skills against the Red Team in a multi-part challenge that includes four classic stage magic props: playing cards, colored silks, top hats, and linking rings. Since Gold Team won the Wand Pond competition, they’ve been able to select which player they think will handle each particular prop the best.”
Damn straight, Ricardo thought. I can hardly wait.
“The member of the Red Team who will play in each leg of the challenge will be chosen at random.”
And if I end up pitted against Kevin Kazan, I’ll show him a thing or— Ricardo’s thoughts cut off abruptly as his eyes fell on John’s.
Oh my God. What if they pit me against John?
As though he’d thought the very same thing, John cocked his head and gave a very slight nod, as if to reassure Ricardo that it would be okay. Which wasn’t actually all that 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 wit
h 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 them up. There was a face card in front. That was good. Right?
But then Kevin fanned his hand…and Ricardo saw he’d captured at least twice as many. At least.
“Let’s start with Gold Team,” Monty said. “Bev, you’re holding a queen, a jack, and a nine. That gives you twenty-nine points.”
Bev nodded. She didn’t look thrilled.
“And Red Team leader, Kevin Kazan, you have a three, a five, a seven, a king, a two, and a four.”
The moment Monty announced the number on Kevin’s last card, Bev’s face fell, and Ricardo knew he wouldn’t have to bother trying to add them up.
“The winner of the first leg of Four Prop Challenge,” Monty said, “with thirty-one points, is Kevin Kazan for the Red Team.”
A PA traded Bev her glasses for the safety goggles. Ricardo watched Bev walk back to the gold couch with a sinking feeling in his chest, but he greeted her with, “Good try, Bev, you did great,” to which Muriel and Sue added their own sympathetic encouragement. Grips hauled away the clear booths, and several large cardboard boxes were dragged to the center of the ballroom floor. A props assistant pulled a top hat from one of the boxes, then another, then another, setting them upside-down on the floor until the entire center was covered by a sea of top hats.
“One hundred and forty-four,” Bev said. “Twelve dozen. A gross.”
Once the hats were arranged, the assistants cleared the set, cameras rolled, and Monty said, “The next leg of the challenge involves magic hats…and the Gold Team selected Sue, its leader, to perform this challenge. Come on up, Sue, and tell us why you were the best person for this challenge.”
Magic Mansion Page 19
