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“Yeah, yeah,” said Mal. He turned to Winston, who was on the couch waiting for his turn. “Win! You’re up. Your turn to take on the master.” He blew on his knuckles like his hands were registered weapons.

They’d been addicted to 10,000 Swords for a few weeks now, and even though it was Winston who owned the game, Mal had become the undisputed champion. Winston was passable, but Jake, considering his dexterity on the baseball field, was surprisingly hopeless. He once impaled himself on his own sword before his opponent could get a swing at him. They couldn’t even figure out how Jake had done it. They’d spent half an hour trying to do it again, with no success.

Jake moved to the sofa, and Winston picked up the controller. Mal pushed the start button, and two warriors prepared to duel in a bleak castle dungeon.

As the swords clanged together, Jake said, “So is there anything we have to do to get ready for this contest?”

Winston shook his head, focused on the game. “I can’t think of anything. I wish there was. I hate waiting.”

Mal’s knight jumped around, baiting Winston into making a move. Mal said, “And we’re stuck with Mr. Garvey as our chaperone? Can’t we get anybody else? I mean it—anybody else on earth?”

“I wish,” said Winston. “But Mr. Unger chose him, so that means he’s the guy. There aren’t that many teachers willing to give up their first day of summer vacation.”

“I never thought of it as their summer vacation,” said Jake.

“Yeah, me neither,” said Mal. His fighter lunged forward.

The phone rang. “KATIE, GET THE PHONE,” Winston yelled up to his sister, while his fighter ran away from his opponent. The phone rang again. “KATIE!”

“Want me to get it?” said Jake.

“Yeah. Ugh!” Mal’s fighter smacked him a good one.

Jake picked up the receiver. “Hello?” He listened for a moment. “No, he’s in a swordfight right now. Who is this?” He listened for a moment and then said, “Who?”

Winston glanced over and saw confusion on Jake’s face. That was all the opening Mal needed, and a moment later, Winston’s knight was a pile of dust dissolving on the castle floor. “Oh, nuts,” said Winston. “That’s not fair. I got distracted.”

“That’s why you’re dead,” Mal pointed out.

Jake waved the phone and said, “He won’t say who he is.”

Winston stood up. “Huh? What do you mean?” He took the phone. “Hello?”

“Winston Breen?” It was a deep male voice.

“Yeah?” said Winston.

“Did you break the code?” This was said in what Winston guessed was supposed to be an ominous, mysterious tone. It didn’t quite get there. And now that the voice had said more than two words, Winston thought it might be a kid lowering his voice to sound older.

“Who is this?” he said.

His question was ignored. “Did you break the code?” whoever it was asked again, in the slow, deep voice of a summoned demon in a horror movie. Except this voice cracked a little on the final word.

Well, he must be talking about the principal’s code—the one that got them into the puzzle event. What else could he mean? Winston said, “Yes, I did.”

“Then . . . I’ll be seeing you,” said the voice, dropping to a dramatic whisper. There was a click as the mystery caller hung up.

What was that? Winston, baffled, slowly hung up and stared at the phone as if another bizarre call might come through at any second.

Mal and Jake were looking at him. “So who was it?” Mal asked.

“He didn’t say.”

His friends glanced at each other. “Well, what did he want?”

“He wanted to know if I cracked the code. And he wanted to tell me that he’d be seeing me.”

They considered that.

“Okay. That’s really creepy,” said Jake. “Do you know who it was?”

“I just told you. He didn’t say his name.”

“Yeah, but you’re Mr. Puzzle Solver, so maybe you figured it out anyway.”

Winston shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Mal flopped back to the floor and picked up the video game joystick. “Eh. Crank call,” he said. “If he’ll be seeing you, I guess we’ll know soon enough. Who wants to play? Jake, you’re up.