CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Cutting Ahead.

A flock of yellow dive-bombed in the direction of Bottles. "Yah!" he yelped, but the evil Jinjos stopped right in their tracks by a stunning spell.

Mumbo twirled his stick around like a six-shooter. "Mole all right?"

Bottles nodded awkwardly.

A group of greens slowly surrounded the two as one of them spoke. "We know you have the Jiggy."

"How could you possibly know that?" asked the mole.

"Because it's sticking out of your backpack."

"Darn."

The greens let out a shrill whistle as they soared towards them.

Bottles quickly turned his back to them, cowering in fear. Fortunately, three of the Jinjos' heads slammed directly into the platinum and were knocked out.

"Good thinking," said Mumbo. He kneeled, powered up his zapping stick and then spun, sending waves of energy at the enemies.

A third of them were now down for the count.

"Where'd you learn that?" asked the mole.

"Mumbo pick up from video game," he responded. But while he was caught up in pride, one of the Jinjos had managed to sneak an attack from behind. "Ulp!" he yelled, and landed in a heap of rusted pilings.

A stray red decided to sail toward the felled witch doctor. But as the Jinjo reached him, Mumbo swiftly got up and batted him away with a discarded pole he found.

"Enough toying around!" said one of the reds, quickly building momentum. Individual glowing lights flickered on throughout the place. "Strike!"

The remaining 592 simultaneously tossed their spells at the mole and shaman.

The sheer force was unequal to anything Mumbo had ever experienced. When divided, the power of each individual Jinjo was enough to level a one-story house. But when combined, it had the ability to take down the fortress itself.

Yet somehow the shaman had the strength to absorb most of it in his stick. "UNGH!" The wand shook violently in his fist; the color had all but drained from his hand. He could no longer take the stress.

He finally deflected the energy back onto the Jinjo army, instantly wiping them out.

Bottles got up from his crouched position. He was speechless.

Mumbo looked to his hand, at the pile of ash that had once been his stick. "No... Confidence now gone!"

"Keep it together!" Kazooie demanded, grasping Mary's shoulder. "It's only about 30 more floors."

The canary and Breegull had taken the phrase "flights of stairs" literally, and had flown their way up the corridors. But Mary just about had enough.

"Boy, are my wings killing me!" she said. Her plea sounded more like a punchline than anything else.

"Oh, come on," said the Breegull. "You flapped your way from the coal mines to Cloud Cuckooland without even taking a break! You nearly beat us in that race of yours up there, too."

"Hey, yeah. Y'know, when you get Banjo back, maybe we could give it another go."

"But you don't have anything to give me."

"I didn't say you'd win..." She grinned.

At that point they had reached the top of the stairs, but realized they were nowhere near the top of the fortress.

"That's a helluva thing," said Mary.

The two took the door out expecting to enter another circular hall, only to gasp in disbelief at what they saw instead.

They had positioned themselves on a thin ledge that stuck out over a bottomless pit. A door appeared at the other end of the abyss, and another to the left of it, under a low ceiling.

"My...!" said the canary. "If I weren't a bird, I'd be crapping myself right about now."

On that note, Mumbo and Bottles entered across the way.

"Yaaaaaah!" the shaman cried. "Mumbo not want to fall!"

"Oh, shush!" demanded the mole. "Hey, Kazooie! Over here!"

"No," said the Breegull, "Kazooie over here!"

"Heh," said Mary. "What's up with that guy, anyway? He's all hysterical."

"He's got this thing with his stick," Bottles tried to explain, "and, well -- never mind. Could we get a lift, please?"

The canary and Breegull flew over to the others, clutching the two in their talons and carrying them over to the third door.

They then entered a room that was eerily silent, as if it were soundproofed. There was hole with view overlooking the Galleon off to the right, and to the left, set into the stone wall, was an image that made the canary start to gag again.

"Good lord!" said Kazooie.

"My god!" said Bottles.

"Gack!" choked Mary.

"Wowza!" said Mumbo, finishing off the exclamations.

It was the disembodied head of Klungo.