He looked at Winnie, who was wide-eyed. “Do you know how to get to the Minaret?”

“Yes, sir!” she said quickly.

“Good. Go there and start the challenge. I’ll search for Madame Nasirah.”

“But I—” Ahmad started.

“Ahmad,” Vijay Bhai said firmly. “You need to win this. You need to end this. For all of us.”

All Ahmad could do was nod. Vijay Bhai gave him a final clap on the back, smiled at Winnie, and bolted off in the direction he came from. After a moment, the kids did as well, heading in the direction of the Minaret.

There was no more time to waste.

The mice troop were way ahead of them as the kids approached the Minaret, panting and grasping their sides. They scurried and flailed their short arms, seeming to point this way and that.

T.T. pushed through, utterly exasperated, and managed to squeak, “The regiment has . . . rather fallen apart, I’m afraid! That sound brings out the worst of rodent instinct in them—steady on, Matilda, you needn’t shove!”

He pressed through and Winnie and Ahmad caught up to him, following closely as he led them down a paneled boardwalk above the lower quarters of the city. Ahmad doing his best not to peer through the rickety wood slats into the dark quarry of tunnels and dingy buildings that lay hundreds of feet below them, beckoning.

“The instructions said we were supposed to head for the Minaret!” Winnie protested, but T.T. shook his head and tapped his nose.

“Smells like trouble that way.”

“Sand Police?” Ahmad asked with a sinking heart, and T.T. nodded. “They might have been responsible for the announcement. They hold a grudge like nothing else.”

“But what does it mean if the police have commandeered the game announcements?” Ahmad asked. “Where is the Architect?”

T.T. only shook his head. “I have no idea what is going on at all.”

He led them toward another of Paheli’s mysterious wooden doorways, bearing an ominous emblem of a sandstorm that the kids couldn’t help but take note of, because their feet were sinking into what was indeed sand.

“Yipes!” Winnie yelped, and Ahmad grasped her arm for balance when he slid too far to the side. “This must be a desert level. So much sand!”

Golden letters shimmered before them in the air.

FINAL TRIAL: DO THE MATH AND AVOID THE MONKEY BUSINESS! BALANCE OUT THE SCALES AND YOU WILL FIND WHAT YOU SEEK!

“Great,” Winnie muttered. “Math. I knew that was going to come up sooner or later.”

“But you enjoy math class,” Ahmad pointed out.

“Exactly. The game has ruined most of my loves in some form or another: our flying car, my mom’s tea. I guess I’m lucky it hasn’t broken out the Zelda or Star Wars. Yet. Well, let’s do this thing. Where do we start?”

There was a rumble beneath their feet.