The Griffin's Riddle

by Suzanne Selfors

  The griffin king unfolded his hands and sat up straight. “Thou art sad because thou willst haveth two homes? But I haveth two homes. I haveth my den and I haveth my nest.”

  Ben leaned against the cage. “You like living in two places?”

  “Yes, I doth liketh it very much. The den is niceth on stormy days. The nest is niceth on sunny days. The nest is whereth I discuss. The den is whereth I ponder.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I haveth nothing to ponder because the riddles haveth run out.”

  “Do you want Ben to tell you another riddle?” Pearl asked. “If he does, can we have one of your feathers to take back to Dr. Woo?” Ben and Pearl clung to the cage bars, waiting for the king’s reply.

  “Very well. If your riddle doth maketh me ponder and doth maketh me pleased, then I shall giveth you a feather.”

  16

  The griffin king wanted a riddle. Not just any riddle. It had to make him ponder, and it had to make him pleased.

  “Okay, Your Majesty,” Pearl said. “It’s a deal. A riddle for a feather. Ben can do it. He’s a fantastic storyteller.”

  Ben scratched his head. He’d already made up the riddle about Pearl’s name. Now he had to come up with another one? He was used to making up stories when he wanted to get out of doing chores, or because he’d forgotten to do his math homework, but he’d never had to do it while locked in a cage. Or with the threat of being thrown into a pit.

  Pearl smiled at Ben. She looked deep into his eyes. No one had ever looked at him with such confidence. There wasn’t a drop of doubt on her face. “You can do this.”

  A riddle for a king? Ben furrowed his brow, trying to squeeze an idea out of his brain. What should the riddle be about? While he wondered, Vlad and Vic made themselves more comfortable. They set their spears aside and sat crisscross on the dirt floor. Vlad reached under his helmet and pulled out an ear of corn. Vic reached under his helmet and pulled out a pear. Did satyrs ever stop eating?

  “Do not keepeth me waiting!” the king bellowed. “I haveth important matters to tendeth to.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ben grumbled. Yeesh. The griffin king was acting as if he was the most important person in the world. Maybe he was. That’s it, Ben realized. Because the king thought himself so important, the riddle should be about him. The answer would be king. Now, to create the question. Thanks to Ben’s morning at the senior center yesterday, something popped to mind immediately. “Okay, I’ve got one, Your Majesty.”

  The griffin king gripped his throne. “Proceedeth.”

  Ben cleared his throat. And this was his riddle:

  THE WEAKEST IN CHESS BUT THE STRONGEST IN CHECKERS. WHO AM I?

  The griffin king clicked his beak. “Chess? Checkers? Thou doth speaketh words I do not knoweth.” His voice grew louder. “I am most displeased.”

  “Shall I throw him in the pit, Your Majesty?” Vlad asked.

  “Uh-oh,” Pearl said between clenched teeth. “You’re making the king even grumpier, Ben. Think of something else.”

  Ben was pretty sure that having king as the answer would please the griffin. He’d try again. His gaze darted around the den. What things belonged to the king? There was the crown that circled his head, and the tall wooden throne. Words swirled through Ben’s head. “I have one, Your Majesty.” And this is what Ben recited:

  A HAT WITH NO END THAT MARKS HIS GRACE. A CHAIR WITH NO BEND THAT HOLDS HIS PLACE. WHO IS HE?

  The king said not a word. He nodded, then closed his eyes, retreating into thought. Except for the sounds of the satyr soldiers eating their snacks, the den filled with silence. Pearl squeezed Ben’s arm. Ben shuffled in place, his stomach churning with anxiety. He’d forgotten all about his uncomfortable shoes and his stifling dress shirt. All that mattered was the king’s reaction. Would this riddle get them a feather?

  Or doom them?

  The king slowly opened his eagle eyes. He clicked his beak three times, then reached up and took the golden crown off his head. He held it out and ran a talon around it. “ ‘A hat with no end that marks his grace.’ ” Then he patted an armrest. “ ‘A chair with no bend that holds his place.’ ” He paused. “The answer be, the king.”

  “Yes,” Ben said.

  Vlad and Vic applauded. “Excellent, Your Majesty!”

  Pearl smiled, then whispered in Ben’s ear. “Oh, that was a good one. You’re so clever.” But Ben was still worried. Had the riddle been too easy to solve?

  The griffin king stood, then slowly walked toward the cage, his intense gaze never faltering. Ben swallowed hard. The king’s chest feathers bristled as he stood in front of Ben, the razor-sharp beak pointed directly at him. “I liketh being the answer to a riddle. Thou doth pleaseth me.”

  The opening to the den began to glow as a beam of sunlight appeared outside.

  “Can we have the feather now?” Pearl asked.

  The king sat on his furry haunches. “The riddle round is not complete. It is my turn to asketh you.” And this is what he said:

  WHETHER ONE OR TWO, THOU SHALT FIND IT IS NOT A PLACE BUT A STATE OF MIND.

  The phrase state of mind felt very familiar to Ben. He’d heard someone use it recently. Yesterday morning, in fact. And the someone had been Metalmouth. The dragon had told Ben and Pearl that when he got sad about moving away from home, Dr. Woo said that home was a state of mind.

  Ben looked into the griffin king’s eyes. Was this creature, half eagle and half lion, trying to make him feel better? “Home,” Ben said quietly.

  The king nodded. “Well doneth.” Then he strode to the den’s entrance, his crown glinting in the streaming sunlight. “Soldiers!”

  Vlad and Vic leaped to their hooves. “Yes, Your Majesty!”

  “My mood hath improved,” the king announced. “Change the flag.”

  The soldiers bowed. “Thy will be done,” they both said, then hurried away.

  “My trusted advisor shall attendeth to your needs,” the king told Ben and Pearl. “I must taketh to the sky to hunteth for my lunch.”

  “But, Your Majesty!” Pearl called. “You said you’d give us a feather for a riddle.”

  “If thou looketh above and not behind, what thou seeketh so thou shalleth find.”

  “Another riddle?” Ben asked, his shoulders slumping.

  “The riddle will leadeth thou to a feather,” the king explained.

  “But aren’t you going to let us out of this cage?” Pearl asked. “So we can look?”

  “I agreed to giveth thou a feather, but I never agreed to releaseth thou from the cage.” The griffin king chuckled, a glint in his eye. “Today thou hast made me happy. I shall keepeth thou to be my royal riddlers.” He strode out of the den, his tail swaying gracefully.

  “Keep us?” Ben cried, his voice cracking. His worst fear had come true. He and Pearl were trapped in the Imaginary World—forever!

  A rhythmic sound arose as wings began to beat air. Ben and Pearl pressed against the cage, trying to catch a glimpse of the griffin king as he flew away.

  “This is totally unfair!” Pearl said with a stomp of her foot. “He can’t leave us here!”

  “He’s the king. He can do anything he wants,” Ben said. He reached through the bars, pulling at the lock. “We have to get out of here. I can’t become a royal riddler. My parents are going to get really mad if I don’t come home at the end of summer.” The lock held fast. Ben tried squeezing between the bars, but he was too big. Pearl tried, but she couldn’t fit, either.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “You are going to leave this world and never come back,” someone said. Ben and Pearl gasped.

  A man stood in the den’s entrance.

  17

  Even though he’d never met the man, Ben knew in his gut that he was face-to-face with Maximus Steele. What other human would be in the Imaginary World, dressed like a big-game hunter?

  Maximus’s cargo pants were tucked into sturdy black hiking boots. His short-sleeved khaki shirt had mu
ltiple pockets and a matching vest. A knife hung from a belt that looked to be made of snake or crocodile skin, but could have been from an Imaginary creature. A pith helmet and a pair of binoculars completed the outfit.

  Ben glanced at Pearl to judge her reaction. She’d seen Maximus before, when she’d been sent into the Tangled Forest to find the missing unicorn foal. While hiding in the darkness, Maximus had descended on the back of a giant moth. He’d set up a trap, then he’d flown away. Pearl had jammed the trap with a tree branch, ruining Maximus’s chances of getting a unicorn horn that day. But she never got a look at his face.

  “It’s him,” she whispered to Ben. “I can tell.”

  “I think you’re right,” Ben whispered back.

  “What a lovely day,” Maximus said. He stood in the den’s entrance, sunlight filling the space behind him as if a spotlight had been turned on to announce his arrival. “The storm clouds have disappeared.”

  Ben scowled. He wasn’t interested in a weather report. What was Maximus Steele, the notorious poacher, doing at the griffin king’s palace?

  With slow, confident steps, Maximus walked up to the throne and sat. Then he leaned back, stretching his long, skinny legs. For the first time since being arrested, Ben was glad to be locked in a cage. A wall of bars separated him from the most dangerous man in the Imaginary World. He and Pearl were trapped, but they were safe. For now.

  Maximus took off his helmet, and Ben and Pearl got to see his face. It wasn’t as evil as Ben had imagined. There was no eye patch, no hooked nose or pockmarked skin. His hair was dark and cropped super short, like Ben’s. He had a wide nose and almond-shaped eyes.

  “I presume you are Emerald’s new apprentices?”

  Ben wasn’t used to hearing someone call Dr. Woo by her first name. But he remembered that she and Maximus had grown up together. They’d been best friends as kids.

  “How about we ask you the questions?” Pearl said, jutting out her chin. “What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t the king tell you?” Maximus laughed wickedly. “I am his trusted advisor.”

  “How can the king trust you? You’re the one who hurt the rain dragon,” Ben said. “He should arrest you. Not us!”

  Maximus balanced his pith helmet on his knee. “The king is blissfully unaware of my true occupation.”

  “You mean you lied to him,” Pearl said. “I’m going to tell him the truth. You’re a poacher. You take horns.”

  “Not just horns. Anything of value that a collector might buy.” He tapped his fingers on his helmet. “Sea serpent skin makes a lovely waterproof tent. Yeti fur protects against the coldest weather. And nothing is sharper than dragon teeth. They make superior knives.” He pulled his knife from its sheath. Ben and Pearl stepped backward, deeper into the cage. “But the griffin king doesn’t know my true nature. I told him that I’m a dear friend of Emerald’s. And I know a few riddles, so it was easy to earn his trust.”

  “But there’s a WANTED sign in the maze,” Ben said. “For a dangerous human poacher.”

  “I blamed the poaching on someone else,” Maximus said.

  “Who?”

  His voice turned icy. “There is someone else in this world, someone who has been trying to stop me.” He stood and took a step toward the cage. “I worked very hard to lure a unicorn foal, but a branch was jammed into my trap, ruining my plan. No footprints were left at the scene, so I have no proof who damaged my trap. But I have my suspicions.”

  Ben glanced at Pearl’s feet. During her adventure in the Tangled Forest, she’d been wearing her leprechaun shoes. They allowed her to move in total silence. Apparently, they didn’t leave footprints.

  Maximus stood very close to the cage. “You wouldn’t know anything about what happened in the Tangled Forest, would you?” He looked directly at Pearl. She gulped.

  At that moment, Ben was grateful that Mr. Tabby had made them dress up for their visit to the griffin’s palace. Because the yellow ribbon that Pearl was wearing in her hair was covering an important clue. After saving the unicorn foal, Pearl and Ben had been given strands of unicorn mane, and the strands had magically attached themselves to their heads. Anyone who knew anything about unicorns would recognize the white stripes as proof of membership in an elite organization called the Order of the Unicorn. Ben’s stripe was hidden under hair at the nape of his neck, but Pearl’s was usually easier to spot. Thanks to the yellow ribbon, Maximus couldn’t see the white stripe. He couldn’t know, for certain, that Pearl had been rewarded by the unicorn king.

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben lied. “We’ve never been to the Tangled Forest. Dr. Woo sent us here because she’s sick.”

  “Sick?” Maximus Steele’s expression softened. “How sick?”

  “She has Troll Tonsillitis,” Pearl said. “And she won’t get better without a—”

  “A griffin feather,” Maximus interrupted. “Of course.” With his knife still clasped in his hand, he took a sudden, angry swing at the lock. It split open and fell to the ground. Ben and Pearl stumbled backward until they were pressed up against the cage’s back wall. Maximus yanked open the door. What was he going to do?

  “Go on,” he said with a sweep of his arm. “Before the king returns.”

  Ben wasn’t going to argue. He rushed out, Pearl at his heels. “Why did you do that?” he asked when they were free.

  Maximus returned his knife to its sheath. “You may think me cold-hearted, but I care about Emerald. She was very kind to me when we were children. I don’t want her to be sick. Go get the griffin feather so that she may be cured.” He grabbed his pith helmet and set it on his head. “But give her this message. If she is the one tampering with my traps, she had best stop, or I will no longer consider her to be my friend. And I will tell the griffin king to forbid her from entering this world.”

  “But the creatures need Dr. Woo,” Pearl said. “Who will take care of them if they get sick?”

  Maximus chuckled. “If creatures get sick, then they weaken. And weak creatures are easier to catch.”

  “You can’t do that,” Ben said.

  “I can do whatever I want. I’m the king’s trusted advisor.” And then, after a tip of his hat, Maximus Steele exited the den. None of the lunching satyrs tried to stop him as he hurried out the golden gate, disappearing into the hedge maze.

  “I don’t care that he set us free. I still don’t like him,” Pearl said.

  Ben was relieved that he wasn’t going to be living in a cage, making up riddles for the rest of his life. But the feeling was fleeting. “We have to get the feather, find Mr. Tabby, and summon the Portal before the king comes back.”

  “Yeah, but where’s the feather?”

  Ben repeated the riddle. “If thou looketh above and not behind, what thou seeketh so thou shalleth find.” He chewed on his lower lip. “If we look above we’ll find what we seek.” He and Pearl both looked up at the den’s ceiling.

  “The nest!” they exclaimed.

  18

  Ben and Pearl tiptoed out of the den. None of the satyr soldiers noticed the escape. Vlad and Vic were too busy grazing on the lawn, and the other soldiers had their noses buried deep in their lunch bags.

  The tree’s staircase was much steeper than the one that led to the tenth floor of Dr. Woo’s hospital. Halfway up, Ben’s legs began to burn as if his muscles had caught fire. “Don’t look down,” he warned after doing just that. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting a dizzy spell. Then he opened them and continued climbing.

  “I can’t believe we met Maximus Steele,” Pearl said. “Dr. Woo’s going to be surprised when we tell her.”

  “And angry,” Ben said. They had a lot of bad news to deliver. Maximus had not only gained the griffin king’s trust, but he’d also threatened to keep Dr. Woo out of the Imaginary World forever.

  Round and round they went. The branches grew thicker, blocking the view. Ben had no idea how far they’d climbed. Then he bumped into Pearl. S
he’d stopped walking because they’d reached the top. “Wow,” he said.

  The royal nest was perched in the tree’s uppermost branches. Unlike Metalmouth’s nest, which was made of metal forged by the dragon’s fiery breath, the griffin’s nest was woven from sticks. And it was the size of Grandpa Abe’s living room.

  “Can you imagine if I added this to my collection?” Pearl asked. Ben had seen Pearl’s bird-nest collection. She kept it in her bedroom, which sat right above the Dollar Store. There was no way she could get this nest through the front door.

  “Look,” Pearl said. She walked to the center of the nest and picked up a feather. Not an ordinary feather, but one that was golden and the size of an oar. “It’s light,” she said, surprised.

  “Really?” Ben couldn’t believe it. Cautiously, he stepped into the nest, testing each branch before letting it bear his full weight. A few creaks and groans sounded, but the woven branches held tight. Ben took the feather from Pearl’s hands. “Amazing. It weighs less than a piece of toast.”

  Pearl shielded her eyes with her hand and looked at the sweeping view. “This is great. I wish I could live up here. My bed would fit, and my dresser, and most of my stuff.”

  Ben wanted to sit down because the height was making him dizzy again. But what a view it was. Beneath the sun-kissed sky, the golden gate gleamed and a yellow good-mood flag rippled in a gentle breeze. To the right, the hedge-lined path stretched as far as the eye could see. To the left, a dense forest grew, dappled with cool shadows. And straight ahead, a tapestry of rolling hills sparkled yellow, like fairy dust.

  “Do you think that’s where the fairies live?” Pearl asked.

  “Makes sense,” Ben said. How odd that question would have sounded if he’d heard it a week and a half ago, before he’d known anything about the Imaginary World. He checked the sky for signs of the griffin king. If the king discovered that they’d escaped, he’d surely put them back into the cage. Hopefully, the king’s hunting would take a while longer. “We’d better get going. We still have to find—”