He smiled.
Not a warm, friendly smile. The kind of smile that means someone has already read the last page of the book and knows exactly how it ends. He tucked his golden clipboard under one arm, pushed his glowing violet glasses up his pale lavender nose, and called out in a voice like someone announcing a very important weather event.
“Endermites! SCATTER PROTOCOL SEVEN!”
For exactly one second, nothing happened. Then the courtyard exploded with tiny purple shapes.
They poured out of cracks in the endstone walls, out from under purpur pillars, out of gaps I was absolutely certain hadn’t existed a moment ago. Hundreds of them — no, thousands — each one the size of a bread roll and twice as wiggly. And every single one of them was carrying something. A bundle of rainbow wool here. A glowing sea lantern there. Chunks of amethyst tucked under what I can only describe as their front bits.
“The blocks!” Biscuit gasped, grabbing my sleeve. “Ollie, they’ve got ALL the blocks!”
She was right. In roughly eleven seconds, every material we needed for the Elegance Duel — the same materials the Ender Earl had smugly offered as the riddle prize — vanished into a purple, wriggling tide. The Endermites scattered in every direction, teleporting in little bursts of violet light, and when the last one blinked away, I could see five small dark islands floating in the void around the courtyard, each one lit up faintly with the glow of scattered materials.
The Ender Earl straightened his purpur crown with one finger and made a small tick on his clipboard.
“This dimension is MINE,” he announced, “and I have it in writing. You had your riddle contest. You have — ” he checked his clipboard, ” — approximately forty-two minutes before sunrise disqualifies you from the Elegance Duel entirely. Good luck navigating five islands with no map. Toodle-oo.”
Then he walked inside, shut the endstone door, and I heard the very precise sound of seventeen locks clicking into place.
