The problem was, Sam couldn't just run. The Rules said he had to engage in battle or he wasn't actually answering the challenge. The problem was, although he had more pointy bits, he was fighting a Shadowlord with a great big sword.

He zigged.

The Shadowlord zagged.

A great big sword and opposable thumbs.

Dangling by the scruff of his neck, Sam struggled to fold himself in half and get a claw into the hand holding him. Shrieking defiance, he felt the sword begin to descend.

Flash of silver.

He felt the impact reverberate through fingers buried painfully deep in his fur. Hissed and spat as he was thrown aside.

Twisting in the air, he landed on his feet. Tail lashing, singing his challenge, he spun around.

"Let it go, Sam. I am permitted to intervene at the last instant in order to save the life of my champion." Arthur stared over his blade at the Shadowlord. "Let's get it on." When his opponent looked confused, he sighed and translated. "It's our fight now."

Not quite human teeth flashed in a brilliant smile. "I have always killed you."

"Yeah, yeah. That was then."

"Fear me."

"Bite me."

Sam had to admit the dialogue was less than archetypal. Maybe, hopefully, possibly that would be enough.

Or not.

As swords clashed overhead, hilt caught on hilt, body slammed against body. Eight inches from the floor, his angle unique, Sam saw the Shadowlord pull the dagger from his belt. Saw a black-clad elbow pull back. Slam forward.

My bad.

His failure.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Then the world turned pink.

Really, really, really pink.

When he could see again, the Shadowlord had vanished and Arthur was standing with Excalibur over his head, hips canted back, staring down at a hole in his chest protector.

The circle of mall elves seemed frozen in place as Sam crept forward. "Are you . . . ? Did he ... ?"

Holding his position, moving only his left arm, Arthur slid a finger into the rent.

Pulled it out again.

The tip was red.

A strangled cry from a dozen throats.

"No, no, it's okay." Excalibur's point clanged against the tiles, as Arthur relaxed. "He barely p.r.i.c.ked me."

They were all still too close to the edge for cheers.

Then someone sighed, "Close one, dude."

In the joyful chaos that followed, Sam lifted his tail and sprayed the place where the Shadowlord had been standing.

"Enough of this!" Meryat rose from the edge of the bed and locked Dean in place with a pointed finger. "These games no longer amuse me. I will take your life now and face your Keeper stronger because of it!"

"Not so fast." Austin crouched at the edge of the wardrobe and stared down at the mummy/Dean tableau. "If I'm not mistaken, which I'm not, so don't go there, the Rules state you, as the villain of the piece, have to brag about how you defeated us before you administer the coup de grace. That's the finishing stroke," he added for Dean's benefit.

Dean's expression suggested he didn't appreciate the translation.

"The point is," Meryat sneered, the missing piece of her lip adding further scorn to her expression, "you have been defeated. What difference will bragging about it make?"

Austin shrugged. "Well, I personally could care less, but if you break the Rules, we get to break the Rules."

"You? What can you do?"

He licked his shoulder at her.

"Fine! I've waited three thousand years; I can wait a few more minutes."

Chapter FIFTEEN.

"Come on, Diana, you've got to run. This whole place is coming down!"

Diana twisted free of Claire's grip and headed back toward the center of the cavern. "We've got to get her out!"

"We can't." Claire hooked her fingers into the waistband of Diana's pants and yanked her to a stop. "You know as well as I do that there's a hundred ways to go to h.e.l.l, hand baskets, good intentions, but we can't use any of them if we've been crushed under a pile of . . ." She threw herself sideways, taking Diana with her as a piece of the cavern ceiling crashed down. ". . . rock."

Considering where they were, the light bulb wasn't entirely unexpected. Claire batted it out of the way with her good hand as Diana surged up onto her feet.

"We'll go after her!"

"Yes, but . . ."

"But nothing." Diana's hand closed around her wrist and yanked her up. "Let's move!"

It seemed that their presence alone had been maintaining what little stability the cavern still had. As they crossed the threshold, the rest of the ceiling crashed down. Coughing and choking in the billowing clouds of faintly pink stone dust, they ran faster, the tunnels collapsing behind them.

Which is certainly better than in front of us, Claire acknowledged as they raced toward the throne room ...