“Shouldn’t something be happening?” Carmen leaned over Lizzie’s shoulder.
I groaned. “It must be the wrong answer.”
Carmen frowned. “It has to be earthquake. It fits.”
“Well, it’s not.” Will pulled the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “What can be felt, but not seen. And destroy, but cannot be destroyed?”
“Earthquake – see?” Carmen sniffed.
“Other things fit, too.” Will pushed his fringe out of his eyes.
“Like what?”
“Time!” Lizzie cried. “We can feel the passing of time, right? But not see it. And ultimately it destroys everything.”
“Or something like a virus or a germ,” Grady offered. “You can feel its effects, but not see it.”
I shivered again and ducked into the shelter of the cairn as a gust of wind whipped past.
“Time’s good,” Will said. “Try that.”
Lizzie typed in the four letters. There was a slight whir from the screen and then it lit up with just two words: Strike two.
“That’s bad.” I sat back on my heels. “Three strikes and we’re out?”
“Only one more guess, then.” Lizzie took off her glasses and rubbed them on her shirt. “I’ve got nothing.”
“Hey! It could be nothing.” I looked at Will. “Or nothingness?”
Will shook his head, frowning. “Can you feel nothingness?”
I folded my arms.
“So … germ, then?” Grady reached for the box, but Lizzie’s hand snapped out and caught his wrist.
“That doesn’t feel right.”
“It’s all we’ve got, chica,” Carmen pointed out.
“If it’s wrong, we’re out of the game. We have to be absolutely sure,” Lizzie said.
“Vote?” Grady turned to Will.
Will shook his head. “Keep thinking. See if we can come up with something better.”
“At least we’ve got these rocks to keep us out of the wind.” Carmen pressed closer to me, rubbing her arms.
Will and I looked at each other. I began to laugh.
“Wha—” Lizzie started to ask. “Oh, right.”
She reached for the keypad and started to type. W-I-N-D.
I held my breath. There was a long moment when nothing happened. And then the screen cleared and an image of a door appeared.
“I know this game!” Grady leaned forwards again. “You’ve got to solve the puzzle to open the door.” He gently nudged Lizzie out of the way. “Let the master work.”
After ten minutes, Grady threw the box down and stamped towards us.
“No luck, Grady?” Carmen was leaning against her rucksack, eating a sandwich.
“It’s ridiculous,” Grady hissed. “I’m brilliant at these – all you have to do is swipe things around in the right order and find the key.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re hungry,” I said. “Eat something while you think.”
“And in the meantime, Will can have a turn,” Lizzie added.
Jerky with frustration, Grady opened his rucksack and pulled out a gas stove and his mess tin. He opened a tin of stew and began to heat it up. Lizzie got out a mini stove of her own and boiled water for tea. The bluish light looked cool but warmed the side of my face.
I had planned to do all my cooking on a campfire, so I was making do with a cold, half-crushed Cornish pasty. I looked at Grady enviously as the scent of beef filled the air.
“You want me to cook another tin?” Grady asked.
“Thanks, but that wouldn’t be fair – it’s yours.” I bit into my pasty again.
Will and I were lucky Mum had seen sense and let us bring the pasties. I’d also talked her into couscous and instant noodles for the other two days, insisting that on a hike, the Atkins diet was not going to be our friend.
She had still made me pack a big hunk of cheese wrapped in plastic and more beef jerky than we’d ever be able to eat.
“Here, Ben.” Lizzie pressed a cup of tea into my hand. The first sip burned my tongue, but heat wound down my throat and settled in my belly like a hot-water bottle.
“Any luck, Will?” Lizzie handed him a cup of his own.
Will shook his head. “Grady’s right. I’ve tried everything.”
Carmen tucked her sandwich wrapper back into her rucksack. “Let me try.”
“Whatever.” Will backed off ungraciously.
Carmen twisted her hair in one finger and leaned close to the box. She touched the screen experimentally.
“¡Hola!, little box,” she breathed.
Then she tilted her head and sat up with the box held in both hands.
“¡Hola!” she said again breathily, a question in her voice.
Then she smiled and blew hard on the screen. There was a click and the box opened.
Will stared. “How did you do that?”
“I’m not stupid, you know!” Carmen tossed her head. “The answer was wind, wasn’t it?”
“But that was just to activate the game.” Grady looked up from his dinner. “Not to solve it.”
“It was both.” I cupped my hands around my mug. “Well done, Carmen!”
“The image moved a little when I breathed on it,” she admitted.
“What’s inside, Car?” Lizzie asked.
“More coordinates and another riddle, etched into the lid. There’s a coin glued to the inside and … another box.” Carefully Carmen tipped the smaller box on to the ground. I held my torch close to the open lid and stared at the information written on it.
I held it up for everyone to see. “That’s not even English!”
“Well, at least the coordinates don’t seem to need messing with this time,” Will muttered as he and Grady shone a torch on the map. He pointed. “There. Right on the coast.”
“What about the riddle?” Grady stared at the letters.
“Not now.” Lizzie carefully copied it into a notebook, took a pencil rubbing of the coin and tucked the book back in her rucksack. “Let’s get this box finished with, then find somewhere to camp for the night. I don’t think we should go for the next checkpoint till the morning – does everyone agree?”
“Definitely.” Grady nodded.
“But I still think we aim for no more than six hours’ sleep and set off early.”
“Works for me.” I was relieved I’d wrapped my sleeping bag in a plastic bin bag – at least it would be dry.
Carmen was holding the smaller box. “This is so exciting.” She stroked it with a finger. “I wonder what’s inside?”
“Our first geocache.” Grady rubbed his hands together. “Five more and we’ve won the game.”
Lizzie grinned. “All we’ve got to do is replace what’s in there with something of equal or greater value. What do you think it is?”
“If they’re clever,” Will said, “it’ll be a compass or torch.”
“It’s too small to be a torch.” Carmen turned the box over in her hands. “And it’s really light.” She held it to her ear and gave it a shake. It rattled.
“Just open it!” Will was impatient.
An owl shrieked in the woods below us. Carmen jumped and clutched the box to her chest as the wind dropped to almost nothing. Holding her breath, she unlatched the box. Almost reverently, she opened it.
Her hair fell in dark curtains around her face as she peered down and her hands started to tremble. Then she snapped the box shut and shoved it at Will.
“W-Will?” Lizzie’s voice quivered. “What’s in the box?”
Will opened the lid, then he looked at me. His eyebrows rose, ever so slightly. I’d never seen Will disturbed before.
“What is it, Will?” I tried to remain calm, but my mind was racing.
“What’s in the box?” Grady yelled.
Wordlessly, Will held up the small metal container for us all to see.
Inside, still bloody, with pieces of gum hanging off it and a corroded silver filling glinting in the torchlight, was a tooth.