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The decision was made to rest for the night before attempting the first of the challenges. A large part of the evening had been spent debating how many puzzles they would actually have to solve. The wording of the clue was ambiguous; did four and one mean five or forty one? They had immediately ruled out Dal’s suggestion that it could mean fourteen as that would have been worded as one and four not four and one, but the other two numbers both fit the wording. When they turned in for the night, no conclusion had been reached. In the end, it did not matter. Whether it was 41 or just 5, they all would have to be faced and there was nothing any of them could do to change that, though each person secretly prayed that they would be subjected to only five.
Tor explained the wording on the plaque. Whenever someone requested permission to pass, a puzzle would appear in front of them. If the question was answered correctly, the barrier would open and two people, along with as many animals as they wished, would be permitted to pass through unmolested. If more than two made the attempt, all would die. If they tried to climb under or over the barrier, they would die. If they answered the question incorrectly, the speaker would die. The same question would be displayed until it had been successfully answered, then a new one would be posed to the next pair.
“So basically, we have to follow all of the rules to the letter, or we die,” Tor summarised.
Seth grimaced. “Could you please stop saying that word.”
“I am only repeating what is written down.”
Predictably, Tor announced that he would go first, but was not very politely told what he could do with his suggestion. Torrick would be the first to receive a question; his wife by his side. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her as they stood in front of the barrier.
“I vowed ‘for better or worse’,” she replied. “I think this comes under the ‘worse’ category.” She smiled thinly, trying to hide the nervousness that was written clearly across her face. They both instinctively took a deep breath as Torrick requested permission to pass. Words appeared in the air in front of them and they read them out loud.
If your peacock lays an egg in your neighbour’s garden, to whom does the egg belong?
“What?” exclaimed Patrick.
“Not the sort of question I was expecting,” Tor said. Liselle and Torrick rejoined the others, Torrick hugging his wife tightly.
“Surely that depends on which county or province you are in,” Seth volunteered. “Laws are different depending on where you are.”
“Does anyone know anything about property laws in Auxland?” Tor asked, looking around him. He saw only blank stares or heads being shaken until his gaze fell on Ellen. She was doing her best not to laugh out loud. “Something amusing you my dear?” he asked gently, keeping his annoyance out of his voice.
This broke her control and she burst out laughing. “Are you all really that stupid?” she asked. The hurt look that appeared on some of the faces made her regret her outburst. Patrick pulled himself up straight, showing his indignation. He was about to put his feelings into words when Ellen continued. “Peacocks do not lay eggs; peahens do.”
As soon as her words reached his ears he deflated. The comment was justified. They were all being stupid.
“Really?” Dal asked, his voice filled with doubt.
“Yes, really,” Ellen said gently. “The peacock is male, hence the name. A lot of people think that they are female because they are so beautiful, especially when compared to the peahen, but with animals, it is more commonly the male who has to attract the attention of the female.” She looked towards Patrick before adding, “Unlike humans.”
“Sprites are the same,” Oak interjected. “There are many more males than females, so the male has to win the affections of his desired mate.”
“I wish I was a sprite,” Ria sighed wistfully.
“Back to business,” Tor said sternly. “Are you ready to give it a go?” he asked Torrick. Torrick nodded and together he and Liselle approached the barrier, gripping each other’s hand tightly.
Before they could speak, however, Ellen rushed up. “We have forgotten about the horses,” she announced. “You will need to take some of them with you.” Three horses were loaded with an equal share of the supplies as well as Torrick and Liselle’s personal belongings. This time there was no need for blindfolds or ropes. Sam spoke quietly to each horse, explaining why they needed to follow the humans once the barrier raised and assuring them that they would come to no harm. They seemed a little unsure, but eventually, with the help of Thresnine, Sam’s horse, they all agreed to follow Sam’s instructions. Torrick once more requested permission to pass.
When the same words had formed in front of them, Torrick said in a loud clear voice, “Peacocks do not lay eggs.” The words disappeared and new ones replaced them stating that they had provided a correct answer and were free to continue their journey. The barrier raised and, after a quick backwards glance at their friends, they stepped forwards through the entry and into the next stage of the journey. As soon as they were past, the barrier lowered once more. Turning round, Liselle and Torrick were stunned to find their exit completely blocked. They could no longer see or hear their friends.
“One down, seven to go,” Patrick announced. Then he frowned. “What are they doing?” From where he stood, he could easily see Liselle and Torrick, who appeared to be pushing against an invisible wall. He called out to them, but they showed no sign of having heard him. “It looks as though something is preventing them seeing or hearing us,” he announced.
“That is going to give us a bit of a problem” Seth said with a trace of concern. “As each partnership goes through, the number of people on this side decreases, leaving the last pair having to solve the question on their own.”
“So the intelligent people have to go last,” Sam suggested. “Does that mean I get to go next?”
“No,” Tor replied. “Intelligence is not the same as knowledge. Just because you do not have the local knowledge that the rest of us have does not necessarily mean that you are less likely to be able to answer the questions, especially if they are along the same lines as the first one. Sorry.”
Sam shrugged her shoulders. “It was worth a try. So who’s next?”
“River and I,” Grimmel said, standing up and taking the water sprite’s hand. As soon as the next question appeared, they called back to the others.
Which is correct, 6 and 6 is eleven or 6 and 6 are eleven?
“Tor has had the official training. He must know the answer to this one,” Seth said.
“There are two numbers so it should be are,” he immediately replied.
“So where is the catch?” Grimmel asked as he rejoined them. “The first question had a twist so this one probably has as well.”
“I am not sure. Go and get the question again.”
Grimmel did as instructed but Tor heard nothing different. “Two numbers, therefore the answer has to be ‘are’,” Tor said once he had reheard the question. “Maybe not all of the questions have a twist.”
“This one does,” Dal said quietly.
“Go on,” Tor instructed the young man.
“You are all concentrating on the words instead of the numbers. Six and six are twelve not eleven.” Everyone groaned. It was so obvious they had all missed it.
“Looks like you have finally earned your place on the team lad,” Seth said kindly as everyone set to work strapping bundles to the next three horses chosen.
River and Grimmel walked through, followed by their horses, without any problems. Torrick and Liselle had explored a little and had found another alcove they could spend the next night in, should they need to, so had freed their mounts of their burdens and had begun to set up camp. River and Grimmel told them about the question they faced and the fact that only Dal picked up on the answer, then all four settled down to what could turn out to be a very long wait.
Brin volunteered to receive the next question.
I have two coins in my pocket that add up to one and a half crowns. One of the coins is not a half crown. What are the two coins?
“I presume that a crown is the local currency,” Sam stated.
“Yes,” Tor affirmed. “Each country has its own currency and the Auxen crown is the one for Auxland. And before you ask, there is no such coin as a three quarter crown. However, the question does not say the coins are from Auxland or that they need to add up to one and a half Auxen crowns. Other countries use crowns. Kinfen and Emvale are two that spring to mind.”
This posed a bit of a problem. Nobody was up to date with current exchange rates so they had no idea if two crowns from Kinfen, for example, was the equivalent to one and a half Auxen crowns or not. Hours ticked by as they all sat in silence, each thinking about the problem. Ban announced that he could not think clearly on an empty stomach so lunch was prepared, but still nobody had any ideas. They talked while they ate, bouncing ideas off each other, but to no avail.
Throughout the discussion, Seth remained quiet, only half listening to the conversation. Something Tor had said was bothering him, but he could not work out what. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he barely heard Sam speaking to him. “What,” he said when he realised he was being spoken to.
“I said ‘penny for them.’”
“Penny for what,” Seth asked in confusion.
“Your thoughts. It’s a saying where I come from.”
“Oh. What is a penny? The currency in your land?”
“Kind of. Although a penny is actually from the UK, a number of countries refer to a coin of their own currency as a penny.”
A light bulb went on inside Seth’s head. “We are going about this all wrong,” he said, grinning. “We do not need to know the currency. I know the answer.”
All conversation stopped. “Well?” Tor finally asked when Seth was not forthcoming with his idea.
“The coins are a crown and a half crown.”
Tor shook his head. “That cannot be the answer. The question said that a half crown was not involved remember.”
“Actually it said one of the coins is not a half crown. It did not say that neither of them are.” This statement was met with a stunned silence.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Modo was the first to voice his thoughts. “That cannot be the answer.”
“I am prepared to give it a try,” Seth replied confidently. “Anyone else brave enough to take the risk with me?”
“I will,” Dal said immediately. Eventually the two young men persuaded Tor to allow them to try and they prepared the donkey and pony for the journey. Everyone was tense as Seth and Dal walked up to the barrier and received the question once more. This was the first time they had been unsure whether they had the correct answer or not and the knowledge that they may be about to witness the death of one, maybe two, of their companions ran through them all, making them cold inside. Brin hugged Sam close as they listened to Seth speaking. They braced themselves for the worst, then relaxed as Seth announced that they were being allowed to continue.
The daylight would be fading within a few hours and Tor wanted to have everyone on the other side of the barrier before nightfall so they immediately obtained the next question.
Which right-angled triangle is bigger, one whose sides measure 300, 400 and 500 or one whose sides measure 300, 400 and 700?
“At last,” Bellak said. “A simple straightforward one. It is obviously the second one.”
“That is what has me worried,” Tor countered, stroking his beard. “It is almost too obvious.”
“Pythagoras’s theorem.” Nine pairs of eyes looked at Sam. “The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides.” The stares remained blank. Sighing dramatically, she asked Brin to lend her an arrow. She then used it to sketch a triangle in the ground. Pointing to the longest side she explained that this was the hypotenuse. She then drew a 3 along one of the other sides and a 4 along the other. “In case you don’t know, square means times the number by itself. Three times three plus four times four gives us nine plus sixteen which makes twenty five. The square root of twenty five is five so the length of the longest side is 5. Understand?”
The blank stares now contained traces of doubt so she took Brin’s quiver from him and laid three arrows end to end on the ground with four going up at a right angle, forming two sides of the triangle. She then used more arrows to connect the two ends. Five arrows fitted perfectly.
Brin looked at her seriously. “I see what you are saying sweetheart, but the question is about triangles with sides of three and four hundred not just three and four. We do not have enough space or arrows for that.”
“You don’t need to,” she continued to explain. “The logic is the same whether you use 3, 30 or 300.”
Bellak was still confused. “So you have proved that you can make one of the triangles. How does that help us?”
Sam smiled sweetly and handed him the quiver. “I made the first one, you make the second.” Ten minutes later he gave up, declaring it was impossible. The only way to get the longest line to be seven arrows was to change the angle, but that meant it would no longer be a right angled triangle. “So you have your answer,” Sam told him. “The second triangle cannot exist so the first is the bigger.”
Everyone agreed with this statement so they decided it was about time Tor went through. Taking Ria with him, as well as more horses and supplies, he promised to wait till the morning, but they would continue on at first light, even if not everyone had joined them.
Question number five was easily solved.
If a coach crashes on the border between Emvale and Mercia, where will the survivors be buried?
As they had now realised all of the questions were going to have some sort of hidden catch, they were looking for it the instant it was read out and all of them spotted the word survivors. “Survivors are not buried,” Bellak happily announced and he and Modo were allowed to pass through.
Number six, however, had them stumped.
A woman goes into a shop and wishes to purchase a talking parrot. The shopkeeper shows her one and informs her truthfully that it will memorise and repeat back everything it hears. She happily takes the bird away, but returns a week later to complain. The parrot has not uttered a word. The shopkeeper has not lied, so why does the parrot not speak?
There were only six of them left, seven if you included Samson, and none of them had any idea what the solution was. They ate a cold meal and talk turned from the puzzle to what they would do with their lives if they could not continue on with the quest. There was no possibility of any of them dying while attempting to get through the barrier as having absolutely no ideas meant none of them were prepared to try. Brin talked about taking Sam to his homeland and introducing her to his family. Sam was slightly taken aback. Meeting the family was a big step, but she was touched that he was suggesting it. They were at ease while they talked and ate, secure in the knowledge that the quest would go on successfully without them. In their hearts they knew Tor and the others would be able to solve all of the other puzzles without their help and they would all meet up again someday.
Their peaceful evening was spoilt by Sam’s sudden exclamation. “Shit,” she said loudly. “It’s just occurred to me that solving the puzzle to get through that stupid barrier is the only way to get out of here.” Colour drained from their faces as they realised she was right. Their mood soured as they turned their minds once again to the problem. Food did not appear to have increased their thinking capacity at all and panic began to set in. Sensing the tension that was beginning to spread, Samson placed his paw on Sam and whined. “Hush,” she said absentmindedly. “I’m trying to think.”
“Maybe he is trying to tell you the answer to the question,” Patrick jokingly suggested. His face fell when the wolf nodded his head.
“Alright then,” Sam said sighing. “Prove to me how much more intelligent animals are than humans.” Samson stood up and barked at her, then sat back down on his haunches and looked at her expectantly. She stared at him, unable to speak. “I think he has the answer,” she announced when she managed to find her voice. Samson’s expression became exceedingly smug.
“Well?” Brin asked her.
“Sorry,” she said, realising that she had not told them what Samson had said. “The parrot is deaf. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t hear anything.”
Oak groaned. “We were missing the obvious and had to have it pointed out to us by a dog.” Samson growled loudly, showing all of his teeth.
“He says he’s not a dog. Dogs are smelly, stupid, creatures that chase balls whereas wolves possess the intelligence to answer questions when humans fail.” Sam did her best not to laugh as she translated.
“Really,” Patrick said sarcastically. “I would like to see him make that barrier open without human help.”
Samson, taking this as a challenge, eased himself off the floor and slowly wandered over to where he had seen everyone else disappear. Mimicking the humans, he barked, asking permission to pass. When words appeared in front of him, he barked twice. The words faded and were replaced by others. Samson turned his head to look at Patrick, grinned and proceeded to walk forward.
“I do not believe it,” Patrick said bitterly. Ban and Oak, who were closest to Samson, looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Like synchronised swimmers, they simultaneously dived after Samson before the barrier came down. Breath was knocked out of them as they landed hard on the ground. Oak opened his eyes and looked up.
“Nice of you to join us,” Tor said, peering down at him.
Once they had both Oak and Ban on their feet and had assessed that they were not injured, everyone bombarded them with questions. Ban was rather embarrassed as he admitted the reason for their sudden arrival.
“Who is a good doggie then,” Ria said to Samson while roughly rubbing behind his ears. He smiled contentedly.
“How come she gets to call him a dog but I do not?” Oak enquired, slightly hurt that Samson did not show Ria his teeth.
Tor placed an arm around his shoulders and spoke to him quietly. “If a pretty woman was giving you fuss and attention, I am sure even you would not mind if she called you doggie.” Oak was forced to agree.
On the other side of the barrier, Patrick was sulking. Ellen was not sure whether he was unhappy about Samson getting through without his help or if he was annoyed that Oak and Ban had acted quickly enough to go with the wolf while he was still stuck on the wrong side. Realising that she did not really care what the answer would be, she did not ask the question. Instead she went to the barrier to obtain the next question. Nobody was brave enough to point out to Patrick that Samson, as an animal, could simply have walked under the barrier if he had wished.
Do you want to take an intelligence test?
Where does milk come from?
How many arms does a monkey have?
What is ten more than twenty?
What is the opposite of hot?
What is a female chicken called?
How many legs does a snake have?
What question were you asked first?
Only the last question needs to be answered.
“At last,” Patrick sighed happily as Ellen approached. “An easy one. No hidden tricks there. The answer has to be ‘where does milk come from.’”
“I’m not so sure,” Sam disagreed. “It sounds too simple. All of them have had some sort of twist so far, why should this one be any different?” Brin and Ellen agreed. Something was not right with the question. They decided to pack the remaining gear on the last of the horses while they gave it some thought. Night was rapidly approaching and they were all anxious to rejoin their colleagues before it descended, but were not prepared to risk death if they were unsure they had the right answer. They got everything packed in a remarkably short time and then stood looking at each other. In the end they decided to read the question again. It was not until Brin read it for himself that he saw the answer and started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Sam asked, placing her arm around his waist.
“Get the question and read it for yourself,” he instructed. She willingly obeyed, but still did not see what he intended her to.
“I still say it’s ‘where does milk come from?’” she said after returning to his side. At his insistence, she asked permission to pass one more time and read the message for the second time. Before she turned away he asked her where the first question mark was. “After the first line,” she replied, then realised what she had just said. “Oh my god, you are right.”
Ellen and Patrick picked up on what they were talking about and, after a quick debate as to who should go through, Sam and Brin grabbed half of the remaining horses and walked up to the barrier.
“Good luck,” Sam called to Ellen and Patrick. “I hope to see you both soon.” The question appeared and she calmly answered, “Do you want to take an intelligence test,” and they both passed through unharmed.
Ellen watched them disappear and was about to retrieve the next, and final, question, when Patrick pulled her back. “Are you really so eager to join the others?” he asked.
“Why? What are you suggesting?”
He placed his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “This may be the last time we are alone together for a while. Why not make the most of it?” he said seductively and began to gently nibble her ear. She felt his desire sweep over her as heat travelled down her spine to settle in her stomach. Breathing became difficult and it took all of her self control to remove his arms from around her and step away.
“Not going to happen.”
Patrick smiled ruefully and shrugged. “It was worth a try. Go and get the last question so we can get out of here then.” He gathered the remaining horses and prepared to lead them through as Ellen read out the question.
What three days of the week start with the letter T?
Patrick stopped in his tracks. “But there is only one,” he exclaimed, “Thirdday. This question makes no sense.” Ellen looked at him in exasperation. After the previous seven questions, did he really think the last one would be straight forward? She sat down to ponder the problem and Patrick positioned himself next to her. They each racked their brains for a while, but came up blank. They discussed whether the question was looking for an answer in another language. Though Patrick was fluent in a number of different languages, some long dead, he could not think of anything that would fit the problem. They talked about nicknames for days, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. Ellen even asked Patrick if the names of the days of the week had changed at all over the many hundreds of years he had been alive, but he disappointed her by saying that only the pronunciation and spelling had altered.
Seeing that she was beginning to get frustrated, he placed his arm around her. “Stop worrying,” he said gently. “We should get some sleep. If we cannot think of the answer today, I am sure we will come up with it tomorrow.”
Ellen stared at him for such a long time he began to feel uncomfortable. “You are wonderful,” she suddenly announced and kissed him on the lips. It was not the sort of kiss he was wanting from her, more like one between siblings, but he did not complain. She stood up and walked forwards, instructing the horses to follow her. “Are you coming?” she asked.
“But you have not told me the answer yet,” he complained.
“Trust me.”
Together they stood with their arms intertwined as the question was once again revealed. “Thirdday, today and tomorrow,” Ellen said happily, without a trace of doubt in her voice.
“I do not believe it,” Patrick muttered under his breath as they were allowed to pass through.