“When it’s cold, windy or at night,” the red boar that was Scede rattled off absentmindedly. “Also during the winter time.”
“Huh,” Jahrra said in a pensive manner. “So, whatever the answer to the riddle is, it doesn’t move when it’s cold. So that would mean,” she continued slowly, “if scarecrow were the correct answer, then the scarecrows couldn’t move when it was cold out. But wouldn’t they move when it’s windy?” Jahrra paused, screwing her eyebrows together, and then said abruptly, “I don’t think it’s scarecrows.”
Gieaun crossed her arms in a huff again, but Pahrdh understood what Jahrra was trying to say.
“So, we have something that’s straight and bending, never naked, moving and holding still, and only moving when it’s warm out?”
Pahrdh’s confusion was translated through his tone of voice. Rhudedth released a pathetic sigh. Scede kicked at the ground and Gieaun stood absolutely still, staring down the dark road as if the answer would manifest out of the darkness. The friends had been standing motionless for over half an hour, and the moon was beginning to show its face over the horizon. A few groups of people had come and gone, and the five of them were growing more and more agitated as each minute passed.
“What could it be?!” Jahrra hissed in dire aggravation. She was very close to shredding the paper to bits.
She looked up at the rising moon in the east for comfort and let her eyes wander to the shadowy crop of woods to the northeast. The trees were very dark now, and their blackened, ragged edges stood out like wicked, serrated teeth. Jahrra then looked down the main road in the opposite direction, spotting the old maple tree that grew a few hundred yards away, its few remaining red leaves looking like dark drops of blood against the washed out ultramarine of late twilight.
Suddenly, Jahrra shot her head back towards the forest. She nearly jumped when the magic-tinged bead in her wood charm armlet flared minutely, tingling her skin for only a moment. That’s all it took to make the answer click.
“Pines!” she shouted louder than she had intended to.
Her four friends flinched and then turned to glare at her.
“What?” snapped Scede.
“Evergreens!” Jahrra rejoiced, the weak torchlight dancing in her smiling eyes. “They are always clothed: they don’t lose their leaves in the fall! They don’t grow during the winter months, and they are always moving, growing, but always standing still. And the wind makes them fluid!”
The group looked down at the paper one last time, and Pahrdh said, “Hey, I think that’s it. C’mon, those woods up ahead are the only group of pines within a two mile radius of the city. The next clue has to be there somewhere!”
They hurried along the path, the looming grove growing taller as the group drew closer. Jahrra placed a hand over her bracelet as she jogged, understanding now why the elves insisted it would aid her. The tingling sensation was gone, but she could still feel the Apple bead’s warmth. She smiled and picked up her pace as her small band of friends dashed down the road.
Every now and again a bat or an owl would fly by, clicking after insects or making a solemn cry, sending a chill through everyone as they moved closer to their destination. The two torches that the boys carried fluttered in the crisp night air as they ran, and after a half mile or so, they finally reached the edge of the trees. A small path, the white sand barely visible beneath the dark shadows of the forest, broke from the road and twined around the trunks of the conifers.
“I bet we have to go in there,” breathed Rhudedth ruefully.
“It can’t be that far in,” Scede offered, taking a deep, weary breath.
The children entered the woods, single file, Pahrdh in the lead with one torch and Scede taking up the rear with the other. After several yards into the copse, the path ended in a tiny clearing where there stood yet another post and plaque.
“This is it! Quick, write down the clue Jahrra, I don’t want to stand in here much longer,” Gieaun said, shivering a little in the shadows of the trees.
The flickering torchlight jerked and danced from side to side, casting living shadows that made the trees seem alive. Jahrra quickly jotted down the clue and the group headed back out to the main road, once again gathering around the parchment. This time Jahrra read it aloud:
The Various colors of fall adorn my lot,
across the Vast fields I roam.
Vermin prey upon me, though I hear them not,
both from aboVe and below the loam.
“This one’s as hard as the last one, but we need to figure it out fast,” Jahrra finished, pursing her lips under her mask.
The darkness was making it difficult to read and the sounds of the night’s denizens made it hard to concentrate.
“Let me see it for a moment, Jahrra.”
Jahrra handed the parchment over to Gieaun, grateful to let someone else have a shot at it. Gieaun pushed back her mask and rubbed her eyes.
“It sounds like something that changes color in the fall, the maple trees perhaps?” she sounded tired, like she didn’t want to have to think anymore.
“I think it’s talking about something that lives in a field. Maybe some sort of crop that is grown there. But why mention that it can’t hear? Everyone knows plants can’t hear,” Rhudedth said in a flustered tone.
“It’s the native corn!” Scede said suddenly. “The cornfields, the ones east of town, the kernels turn to orange and red in the fall, just before harvest! The farmers usually harvest them last, waiting for them to change color! And they have ears, but they cannot hear, like the riddle says!”
“Good job, Scede!” said Pahrdh, relieved to be moving once again.
The group ran the remaining five hundred yards to where the field of the native corn stood. The road was now following the edge of the small forest; the river had long since headed northeast. Jahrra didn’t like being so near to the wood at night, but she desperately wanted to win this contest, if not for the prize money for the glory. Not to mention, it would give her another one-up on Eydeth and Ellysian.
After spending several minutes searching around the immediate area of the cornfield, the children grew restless once more.
“The previous clues weren’t difficult to find, where’s this one?” Scede complained. “They don’t expect us to traipse through the corn fields all night, do they?”
“Read the clue again, maybe we missed something,” Jahrra said, a little more irritably than she meant.
Gieaun cast her friend a frustrated glance before reading the clue aloud once more. While the group stood there wracking their brains for some idea of where the riddle might be, a rustling noise in the field adjacent to the woods caught their attention. Scede and Pahrdh wheeled around, torches held high, trying to see into the cornfields to judge what had made the noise.
“Probably a possum or a fox,” whispered Rhudedth nervously.
“We’re on the main path, so the clue must be around here somewhere,” Jahrra said, her focus returning to the paper that Gieaun clutched in her hands.
“The first riddle led us to the river, the second to the forest, but the path runs around the cornfields. We already checked the entire perimeter, so the clue has to be somewhere within the fields. Maybe we should see if any of the stalks are pushed aside; maybe someone ahead of us found the clue already.”