Hurtling into the canals of both stone and clockwork, the hologram swords that cut through him and slid out as easily as a magician’s prop, and the silk awnings over vendors’ stalls.

Together they descended into the lap of the layered city, Paheli.

CHAPTER FIVE

FREE-FALLING DIDN’T FEEL THE way Ahmad always expected it to.

At least, after the first few minutes when he wildly glanced around with Winnie—locating her right at his side, screaming right along with him—and had the mental space to take in everything else going on, it didn’t.

Yes, the wind tugged back his cheeks and whined past his ears. But after a few moments, when the drag on his arms and legs didn’t lead to a sudden and swift crush to the ground, he was able to work open his eyes. And he looked down.

Big mistake.

Paheli was spread out beneath them. The buildings and distant streets seemed small and delicately crafted, like they were meant to house ants.

“Okay,” Ahmad shouted to Winnie, not daring to look away from the ground. “It was your bright idea to jump through the doorway. What now?”

When there was no answer, he craned his neck to the side. Winnie had her arms spread out at her sides, like she was flying. She flashed him a huge grin.

“This is better than any ride at Six Flags!”

“Are you serious? At Six Flags, there are safety belts and attendants and red emergency buttons you can push if it gets too rough. Don’t you see what’s under us?”

“We’re playing a game. There has to be some sort of safety mechanism involved.” Winnie did a somersault in midair.

She was right. There had to be some way out of this. Every good game had its utility belts and parachutes. Surely, the MasterMind didn’t want them to lose, and painfully, right out of the gate.

It was then he saw it: a single, starlike glimmer off a polished metal handle.

Ahmad leaned forward, squinting his eyes against the air batting at his face.

“Is that a car?” he mumbled.

It didn’t look like the cars lining the streets of New York City. Two bright red fins jutted out on either side, in the place where handles would be on the doors. The top of it too—shiny and rounded in a way that resembled a rickshaw canopy more than the hood and top of a Mustang or Honda Civic or even a vintage Volkswagen Bug—seemed like an unusual design choice.

Was it really a car at all?

Winnie tried to straighten herself out so she could look. “I mean, I think so. That’s a pretty interesting look. Hey! Maybe that’s our ride!”

“Our ride?” Ahmad echoed dubiously.

“Come on, start thinking like you’re in a game! If it catches your eye, that means it’s probably meant for us.”