Partner Games
Page 43

The woman shook her head and scolded us in Arabic, gesturing at the tattoos. Her body language told us very specifically that we could not mess up our tattoos.
“Nothing said we have to wait, though, right” I pleaded. “What if we’re really careful?” I mimed protecting the mud on my hand. “We’ll probably be in a taxi anyhow.”
Georgie spoke a few soothing words in French, and to my surprise, the woman responded in equally quick French. Well, damn. Here I was with a PhD in invertebrate paleontology and I couldn’t even speak a second language. Again, my model twin was better at the traveling thing than me.
Reluctantly, the woman pulled something out from under her table, and I nearly clapped my hands (mud and all), thinking it was the clue.
It was, instead, a paper bag.
She handed them to both of us, speaking in French, and Georgie nodded then looked at me. “We’re supposed to put this over our hand to keep it from smearing. If we do that, she’ll let us go.”
I nodded, excited, and jammed my hand into the bag. She immediately handed me a rubber band, and I obligingly put it around my wrist.
“I feel the overwhelming urge to make a puppet,” Georgie said, moving the fold of her bag like a mouth. “He-llo Clemmy,” she said in a weird voice, moving the bag. “How are you today?”
“I’m about to punch a paper puppet unless I get my clue,” I warned my twin.
Georgie chuckled and spoke to the woman again, and she produced our clue. With an excited shriek, we raced out of the hammam and back to our waiting cab.
 
~~ * * * ~~
 
“The clue says to skip the line to get in at the Saadian Tombs and go straight to the front, and someone will be waiting to let us inside from there.” Georgie scanned the rules again. “Inside, we will need to be respectful but also look for our clue.” She snorted. “Here’s a thought – if you want everyone to be respectful, maybe you don’t make a tomb part of your gameshow?”
I peered around. The plaza we were standing in was full of people and booths and lots of pinkish-beige tall stone buildings, but I was blind as a bat and didn’t feel like holding up my ‘monocle’ to see things. “Do you see any other teams?”
“Nope,” Georgie said. “Think it’s been an hour yet? My hand is sweating inside my puppet.”
“Not yet,” I chided her. “Let’s just go in and find our clue, okay?”
She grabbed my un-bagged hand and dragged me forward, past the blur of people. “Come on, then. I think I see the entrance.”
Five minutes later, we were inside the Saadian Tombs. The interior was cool and dark, and if I peered hard at the floor, I could make out incredible, vibrant designs. “I bet this is so beautiful,” I breathed, fishing in my pocket for my monocle anyhow. “Georgie, is it pretty?”
“Yup. Gorgeous,” she said in a bored tone. “I don’t see anyone in this room with a clue. Let’s keep going.”
She led me through room after room, and even though I protested our speedy trek through the tomb, I couldn’t argue that Georgie got results. Several rooms later, someone greeted us and held out the clue. I automatically turned to my twin and waited for her to read it, holding my monocle with my non-henna hand.
She squinted at the disk and read aloud. “Look for a wide open area two streets over that has been roped off for the game. There, you must select which member of your team will be ‘Puzzle’ and which will be ‘Painter’?”
“Oh boy,” I said, dropping my monocle back in my pocket so I could hold on to Georgie’s hand. “I don’t know if I’m going to be any good at painting considering I can’t see.”
“Like you’ll be any better at puzzles?”
Georgie had a point. “Well I have to do one of them! You pick which one you want to do.”
“I’ll paint,” she said. “I’m good with makeup. It can’t be that different, right?”
I snorted.
“Yeah, I know. I’m grasping at straws. Don’t care. I just don’t want to be last.”
We wove our way out of the tombs and back out into the bright daylight, and I felt a little mournful that I hadn’t gotten to see them in their full glory. With me in tow, Georgie jogged down the street, looking for the marked off area.
“Here,” she cried. “There’s a sign!”
We paused in front of the signboard. PUZZLE was written on one arrow, pointing up the street. PAINTING was down the street.
“Here’s where we part,” Georgie said, giving me an impulsive hug. “Try not to let anyone break your glasses or steal any more money or whatever else they can do at this point.”
“Gum in my hair? Wedgie?”
“Any of those,” she teased, then slapped me on the back with her paper-bagged hand. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“You too,” I called, and then we split up.
Luckily the ‘puzzle’ area was cordoned off with bright ropes and I was able to find it easily. As I came up to the clue-stand, I pulled a disk out and looked at the scene ahead of me in surprise.
People were here.
We’d caught up?
I tugged out my monocle again and snarled, making a face so the glass would stay in place between my cheek and brow. Bending over, I read my clue.
 
 
PUZZLE
The Saadian tombs lay untouched for centuries, when they were rediscovered in 1917. Beautiful examples of Zelij (Moroccan tilework) cover the floors. Your task is to grab three marked bags of tiles and recreate the flooring in one of the tombs. Please note that your tiles must match up exactly. Each color touches another color and can only be placed in one spot. Once your floor is perfect, you will see that the pattern spells out the location of your next destination. Good luck.
 
 
Colors? Okay. I could do colors. Squinting through my monocle, I looked over at the participants from the other teams working on their floors. The Zelij tiles looked like a headache-inducing, wildly intricate pattern of colors and shapes, so it wasn’t surprising that everyone seemed to be having trouble.
I was surprised to see everyone that was on the flight was here at the task. Jendan from Team Endurance Island had an almost-completed floor, and was busy working away. Foster from the Green Machine looked as if he’d just started, and his skin was blotchy and red from his shave. Nearby, Muriel from Team Red Hat was busy shaking out the pieces from a bag.
We’d caught up.
“We’re back, baby!” I bellowed as I raced forward to take my place in the tilework. “Let me know how you like that four hour penalty, Foster!”
“Shut up,” he muttered.
I cackled in glee and got to work.
It was only after I’d started in on my puzzle that I realized everyone here was from our flight. The Doctor Moms, Team Houston, and One Percent were nowhere to be seen.
Were they that far ahead of us?
Or had something gone horribly wrong?
 
 
Chapter Twenty-Eight
 
 
“I’m starting to have a real bad feeling about Morocco.” – Swift, Team One Percent, The World Games