After a few minutes of the charged silence, the other boy grasped his hand and stood. Ahmad didn’t turn his head, but he could feel Winnie smiling proudly at him and he pulled himself taller.

“Any ideas on what we should do?” Ahmad asked.

“I mean, it feels like our objective hasn’t really changed,” Winnie responded, eyeing the jinn’s turned back tentatively. “We’ve just reached the Big Boss for the final battle. We finish the game, avenge Madame Nasirah, save our families and our world, and get out while the getting’s good. The only problem is that I’m not sure how we beat a jinn without getting burned.”

“Jinns are made of smokeless fire,” Ahmad said automatically. “Not that I know whether or not that means he can burn us alive. It just—makes it feel less likely. But he’s not going to let us out of here without a fight.”

“If I might interrupt,” the Architect’s weak voice came from behind them. “It seems our objectives are . . . quite similar.”

“Well, that’s a load of . . . manure,” Winnie snorted, after a quick glance at Ahmad, who had to bite back a very inappropriate snort. “Your goal: Keep us in your game because you’re a jerk and want friends but can’t admit that because, well, you’re a jerk. Our goal: Get out of the game after using you to wipe the floor because you’re a jerk. I don’t see any Venn diagram forming between those two.”

“Your current goal is getting out of the game alive.” The Architect raised his chin with indignance and, Ahmad was envious to see, only the slightest tremble. It was a skill he needed to work on himself. “Now, we share that goal. You heard what he—what he says he did to my mother. I’ll be next.”

He turned and spoke directly to Ahmad. “Mirzas are the best at games. At least, so I’ve learned from experience. And I think it’s time for me to acknowledge that Amaris might need to learn from Mirzas in order to win too.”

Ahmad couldn’t believe what he was hearing. From the raised eyebrows Winnie was giving the other boy, she couldn’t either.

The MasterMind’s jaw dropped. “If that isn’t the most ridiculous—”

“I need you,” Lord Amari said, holding Ahmad’s gaze. “We both need you and Winnie in order to make it out of here. And for now, you need us, because Paheli lives within me. So why don’t we combine our efforts and make it through together?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AHMAD WAS TORN. WHAT Amari suggested actually did make sense. But how would they challenge the jinn? Could they really trust two probably not-quite-reformed villains?

Before anything else could be said or done, a tremor shook the earth.

Ahmad tumbled backward, Amari nearly toppling to the ground next to him.