“Ollie,” Biscuit whispered from somewhere to my left. “You can stop being a boulder. The guards went around the other side.”
I unraveled the Wool of Wonders from around my shoulders and became myself again, which was honestly a relief. Being a boulder is surprisingly uncomfortable. I’d managed the correct block type about forty percent of the time yesterday, which was a personal record, and I was quite proud of it.
“Right,” I said, brushing fog off my patched-up blue tunic. “New plan. We need to get into Wanda’s maze, find the hats, and get back to Blockville before the Grand Hat Festival is ruined forever. We have two days. What have you got?”
Biscuit unzipped her enormous brown backpack, which made the sound of approximately forty-seven snacks shifting around inside. She pulled out a list. Then another list. Then a list of the other lists.
“Seven plans,” she announced proudly, “ranked by how likely they are to involve us falling into something.”
“Which one has the lowest falling risk?”
She looked at all seven lists very carefully. “None of them, actually.”
