"This challenge is mine since you did the last one," I told Liam, and began to read the disk. "The Trinity College Library is home to the famous Book of Kells, one of the most ornately decorated manuscripts ever found. Using the materials provided to you, you will recreate the page that the book is currently open to. A judge will decide if your copy is worthy. When you are approved, you will receive directions to the finish line for this leg of the race."
"You good at painting?" Liam asked, glancing down at me. I could have sworn there was a hint of an amused sparkle in those dark eyes.
I rolled up my sleeves, grinning. "Dude, I frost cupcakes on a regular basis. I am ace at painting. Just watch me."
"Don't get cocky," he told me, but there was a teasing note in his voice.
I simply grinned and headed for the roped off area. There were three other contestants there, and as I watched, Steffi from the purple team handed her page to the judge, who laid it down on the table, scrutinized it with a magnifying glass, and then shook his head. "No."
Okay, so this wouldn't be easy. I headed to the table set up for me and peered down at the materials, taking a quick assessment of things. Paints in small pots were neatly lined up on the far end of the table, along with multiple brushes. A long piece of thick, weird paper had been laid out on the table, and as I leaned over it, I saw that a drawing had already been done on the paper. It was crazy ornate, too, with a jillion lines and swirls moving back and forth, all in black and white. Obviously our job was to color it to match the Book of Kells. I studied it for a moment, and then looked around for the book.
Off in the distance, there was a roped off section. I watched as Summer got in line again, headed straight to the glass-case covered book, stared at it for a long while, her lips moving, and then raced back to her table to return to her page. So this was coloring and memorization. There had to be a smart way to do this. I stared down at the paper a moment longer. It reminded me of paint by numbers. All right then, I'd treat it like that. I raced to get in line to view the book, and when the contestant in front of me was done, I moved up to the podium.
And stared. The book was gorgeous. Illuminated by a soft light, the book was opened to a page of one of the Apostles, his head crowned by a golden glow. He held up a hand and cupped an object in it, and his robes were a heavy blue. I studied the colors for a moment, then decided to tackle it one color at a time. I'd start with gold. Crown, I told myself, then looked for other bits of gold. Sandals, sparkles in the sky, and the border. Repeating this to myself, I ran back to my page and dipped a paint brush, then blobbed the appropriate pieces.
Each object in the picture had been broken into several different sections - no doubt to try and throw us off, so I dabbed a bit of the appropriate paint color in each section, then set my brush down and returned to the painting. I'd do blue next, and then work my way through all the colors, so I'd know I was right. It'd take some time in advance, but it'd pay off when I only had to do it once. Even now, I watched another person - Myrna - call over the judge, only to be told 'no' right away. This challenge was about accuracy.
So I returned to the book and looked for blue. Then red. Then green. Then black. Then the smaller, less numerous colors. I took my time, carefully dotting each color on my page. Sometimes I had to return once or twice to the book, unsure of the block I was looking at, so I just skipped that and checked it the next time I went. By the time I had most of my picture blocked out, the three teams that had started at the challenge were still there, and the last two had arrived.
I wasn't flustered, though. I had this. I leaned over my table and began to carefully paint in the boxes I had marked, taking my time with each one. I had careful, steady hands, thanks to my practice icing and decorating delicate cupcakes and wedding cakes. I was fast, and I was steady, and I was totally rocking this challenge. When my back began to cramp up from leaning, I got up and headed to the book again, filling in the last few blanks.
At last, my picture was done. I carefully lifted it from the frame, holding it so it wouldn’t smear, and shot a triumphant look at Liam. He stood with the other teammates, looking cool and casual, but as I glanced over at him, I saw him give me a subtle thumbs-up.
I brought it to the judging stand and laid it flat to be judged. The judge pulled out his magnifying glass and began to pore over my finished painting. He took so long to study it that I was sure he was going to find fault, and my stomach dropped. Had I missed something? Had I dripped into the wrong box? I watched him, holding my breath.
He straightened, looked at me, and then nodded. "Good job." And he held out my disk.