The Music Box: Chapter Thirty-One

Bernard now took control of proceedings. He was still absently staring at the glowing rock, but managed to address Emily.

“We shall begin with a riddle. All good journeys begin with a riddle, if you know anything about these things.

“Tell us: What sleeps through a storm, rises afore dawn, shares thoughts with a fawn, is already torn and has never been born?”

Always one for riddles usually, Emily was crestfallen to find she had not the faintest clue what they were talking about. Sleeps through a storm – something to do with the sun perhaps? But that didn’t fit the rest of it. Rises before dawn? Birds do, but that still couldn’t be it. Shares thoughts with a fawn – this was the bit that was stumping her. She didn’t really know what a fawn thought, let alone who or what might share thoughts with it. She tried skipping that part but couldn’t imagine how something could be already torn but never been born.

This was terrible. She had stumbled at her very first hurdle – what possible chance did she have of ever getting out of here? It had not seemed so bad a place when she first got here – there were plenty of new and intriguing things to see at every turn, and in a better mood she may have even found the Mr Topkinses amusing. But as it was she was tired, hungry and increasingly ill-tempered with the frustration of it all. Emily felt exceedingly foolish that she had allowed Mr Crouch to trap her this way, had been lured in through her greed and selfishness and let her parents down so badly.

It didn’t occur to her that she had been expertly manipulated by a ruthless and cunning old fox with a wealth of sly tricks up his sleeve – she felt the full force of guilt sit in her tummy in a hard little knot. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself though, she realised, grimly determined to get home whatever the cost. None of this helped with the riddle.

“I don’t know. I can’t work it out. I’m usually good at these but this one doesn’t make any sense. What sleeps through a storm, rises afore dawn, shares thoughts with a fawn, is already torn and has never been born?”

“Oh we don’t know either – it’s been annoying us for weeks!” burst Oscar.

“We’ve got a small wager going with one of the bears,” Bernard explained.

“We have to tell him by the end of today or we’re out of pocket.”

“You mean to say that riddle had nothing to do with me getting home?”

“Well we wouldn’t put it that way exactly. We’d be much more inclined to go for something like dancing around the topic without ever actually addressing the crux of the matter, so we would never put it quite that way, would we Mr Topkins?”

“That’s right Mr Topkins, that’s not really something I could imagine being so blunt about, given it would certainly not please a little girl to hear. Mr Topkins here may disagree, but what we would tend to do would be to try moving the topic right along with a neat little segue – if one were available or able to be easily enough manufactured – but as it is one does not seem to immediately become apparent, in which case we might just resort to whistling a little tune.”

At which Mr Topkins and Mr Topkins both began whistling, a two-part harmony that may or may not have been pleasant, but really had nothing to do with anything.

Emily was beyond livid. This was simply getting out of hand. Still they kept whistling, seemingly oblivious to her rising anger, which had her fit to burst.

“You two are simply horrible, you know that? Truly awful. You promised you would help me and here you are, whistling your silly tunes and leaving me most dreadfully upset. Well I can’t stay here and waste my time this way, I simply have to get out of here. And if you won’t help me, I’ll have to find my own way.”

With that Emily turned and began to walk away. She had wasted enough time and was feeling most cranky.

“Oh Emily, do wait,” Oscar called out. “We were simply having a bit of fun. We don’t get a lot of company these days and it is such a joy to meet someone new.”

“Not much company? That’s hardly a surprise if this is how you treat them!”

“Now that’s a little unfair, we were simply trying to cheer you up. But we are happy to help, aren’t we Mr Topkins? The thing is, there’s not really a lot we can do.”

“Then why did you tell me you could?”

“Well we figured we must be able to work something out. Like we explained before, this is the ‘Land Time Remembered’ and I can quite clearly see there is a time when you are no longer here, in which case you must get out somehow, otherwise you would be here then as well as now.”

Emily digested this, seeing there was a certain logic to what he was suggesting if it were true, but unsure how that helped her now.

“And how long is it until this time when I seem to no longer be here?

“How long? Oh we can’t tell that sort of thing. We might know everything that has happened or will happen, but we certainly can’t tell you when that is. Time may remember this place perfectly, but that’s quite differently to this place being able to remember time. Just because you remember a certain cupcake you ate doesn’t mean it will necessarily remember you – no matter how fondly you recall it. In fact, the more fondly you remember it, the less likely it is to want to really remember you at all. And you can’t really blame the cupcake for that – you did eat it after all.”