by Jared Stone
“Whoo!” Blake cried out as the walls began to retreat.
Lucian breathed a sigh of relief and looked to where the ice pillar once stood. Though the majority of it had been completely crushed, there was still a small sliver that stuck up from the floor like an emaciated stalagmite. From within this tiny bit, Lucian could still make out just a chin nodding in confirmation.
With a Whoosh, the door behind what was left of the pillar flew open. All three of the men hurried toward it, anxious to escape from the frozen compactor.
“Well done, Mr. Valenti,” Schuntz mumbled as they stepped through the open door.
“Thanks,” Blake said, smiling ear to ear with joy.
“How’d you figure that one out?” Lucian asked in amazement.
Blake shrugged. “I was just thinking about what poor men have,” he said softly. “I’ve been really poor before, and I remembered what eating nothing was like….”
Lucian felt profoundly sad at his roommate’s words, and he had never realized just how difficult Blake’s younger life must have been. He honestly didn’t know what to say in response.
“I wonder what’s next…,” Lucian eventually stated, avoiding the awkward conversation altogether and stepping into the next room.
As soon as they had crossed over the threshold, the door behind them promptly slid shut.
“Oh, not this again!” Blake exclaimed.
In the room before them were scattered dozens of ice pillars, all arranged in seemingly random intervals throughout different sections of the space. Directly in front of them stood a single pillar, separated from the rest. Within this glowing white/blue column, another face appeared. It stared at the travelers first, as if it was looking into their very souls, then finally spoke.
“Your knowledge and your wit alone have brought you now to me,
but more shall be required if the end you wish to see.
I have gazed into your minds, my friends, and know now what you know.
Each column that comes after me shall tell you where to go.
Cooperation is the key, so be humble and meek,
to determine direction, distance, and the prize you seek.”
“Ugh!” Blake said as soon as the face had finished speaking. “Why does everything around here have to rhyme? I mean, just how long do you think it took them to come up with all those?? And why!?”
“I think the better question is, what do we have to do to get past this section?” Lucian gently reminded his roommate.
“From what was just spoken a moment ago, it would seem that we are to go to the ice columns behind this one to seek additional clues,” Schuntz advised.
Seeing that no further instruction would be coming from the pillar near the entrance, the three travelers stepped around it and moved on to the next pillar they came to. It seemed the most logical starting point, given its close proximity to the entrance, though no other type of marking differentiated it from any of the others. At its base, there was a sizable half-circle seemingly carved into the ice floor on the other side of the pillar from where they were standing. This arc had small tick marks all around the outer rim, and it reminded Lucian of the plastic protractors he had to bring to math class when he was younger. Looking around, Lucian saw that every pillar in the chamber shared a similar carving on the floor, and he assumed that it had something to do with the challenge.
As soon as the three men arrived in front of the next column of ice, a new face appeared to direct them further.
“Although undressing often, I never close my eyes.
I seek at times to tempt you, sowing discord with my lies.
At other times you worship me, exalted, erudite.
Although I do not chew my food, you may still fear my bite.
The angle of your voyage is sun’s highest point to low,
and to my temple’s topmost stair the distance you must go.”
Lucian looked at his two companions, completely puzzled. “What the heck does that mean?” he asked.
“I believe we must first determine the speaker of the rhyme,” Schuntz said, “then derive the direction in which to progress, as well as the distance of that progression. That would seem to be what the first pillar in this room had instructed. The information we need should be contained within this riddle.”
“Well, the speaker’s obviously a snake,” Blake stated matter-of-factly. Both Schuntz and Lucian turned to look at him with confusion.
“Why do you say that?” Lucian asked.
“Well, I just figured that much out from the very beginning,” Blake explained. “That part about never closing its eyes. Snakes don’t have eyelids, which is just creepy. So I guessed the undressing part was about shedding skin, which is just as creepy, if not more. Then tempting and lying and not chewing and biting….” Blake visibly shuddered as he said this. “Yeah. Definitely a snake.”
“But…, I thought you hated snakes,” Lucian said. “How the heck do you know so much about them?”
Blake shrugged. “I like to know about them so I can stay far away from them,” he said. “Gotta know your enemy, man.”
“Alright. Let us, for now, assume that it is a snake,” Schuntz said, still clearly grappling with the notion that Blake could have possibly guessed it correctly so quickly. “What is this temple of which it speaks?”
Lucian pondered over this for a moment, thinking about how a snake might be connected with a temple. Then, his eyes grew wide.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed. Now he was the one being stared at by the other two.
“I was just writing a paper earlier this week on the Temple of the Feathered Serpent in Teotihuacan,” Lucian explained. “It’s 72 feet tall. I bet that that’s the distance we have to go from this pillar.”
Schuntz nodded. “Though that is the vertical height, correct?” he asked. “The riddle states that it is the distance to the topmost stair. That would not be the vertical height, but rather the distance of climbing the stairs along the side of the pyramid. Do you know the length of the sloped sides?”
Lucian shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “I only remember that the height is 72 feet and the area of the base is 82,000 square feet. Not much good that does us now, I guess….”
“On the contrary,” Schuntz countered. “That is all the information we need. If we square root the base’s area to determine the length of one side, we will be able to halve that to determine the distance from the midpoint of the square base to the midpoint of one side!”
Lucian and Blake both stared at him. “So?” Blake asked.
Schuntz let out a disgruntled sigh. “So, Mr. Valenti, once we have the height of the pyramid and the length of the midpoint to the edge of the base, we are able to construct a triangle with two sides given. In order to find the hypotenuse of that triangle, which is the sloped edge, we simply use the Pythagorean Theorem. We may thereby determine the length of the sloped side and, with it, our distance of travel.”
The boys still wore blank looks on their faces. “So then…, what is it?” Lucian asked.
Schuntz sighed again. “It will take me a moment to perform the calculations” he stated, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his bamboo calligraphy brush from within. He then knelt down on the icy ground. “Rooting such large numbers is far more complicated than simply calculating in one’s head.”
“I normally just use my phone,” Lucian said, pulling out the device from his pocket and attempting to unlock the screen. Yet, it remained completely black. “But I don’t think that’s gonna be an option for us here….”
“Mr. Aarden, I come from a time when math was taught without the convenient use of calculators,” Schuntz reminded the boy as he began to swipe his brush across the frozen floor. As he did so, glowing red numbers appeared. “I am quite adept at longhand mathematics.”
Lucian watched in wonder as the professor wrote out all of the complicated equations onto the floor. He tried to follow but soon found
he was wholly unable to do so, as Schuntz’s mind worked a pace that far exceeded his own. Within a few minutes, Schuntz looked up at the two boys.
“160 feet,” he announced, slowly pushing himself back up off of the ground once again as the glowing numbers faded away beneath him. “We must go 160 feet.”
“Alright, then!” Blake said, seeming both confused and excited. “Now we just find the direction?”
“Yes,” Schuntz said with a nod. “Sun’s highest point to low. If I understand correctly, this should refer to the difference in perceived elevation of the sun in the sky from any given observance point on this earth. From its highest point of the year to its lowest – the two solstices – the sun’s elevation in the sky differs by a delta of 47 degrees. If this is the direction of which the riddle speaks, we should move forward at a 47 degree angle for 160 feet.”
“Great!” Lucian exclaimed. “Then let’s do that!”
Schuntz walked around to the other side of the pillar and looked down to the ground. “If I am correct, this arc should designate the angle of our travel, with the right side starting at 0 degrees and the left side ending at 180. If one of us stands directly at the pillar’s base, another of us stands on the point of the angle on the arc, and the last of us walks 160 feet from the pillar, the one at the pillar should direct the person who walked out to fall in an exact line with the person standing on the arc. In this way, we will be able to ensure that it is a straight path to our destination, in accordance with the specified angle.”
“How do we know what 160 feet is, though?” Lucian asked. “It's not like we have a measuring tape here or anything!”
Blake looked down at his feet. “I think my shoes are about a foot long,” he said. “I wear a size 14. If I remember right, it’s almost exactly the length of a ruler.”
Lucian wanted to ask his roommate how he had ever found that out, but he decided against it. He had really already discovered enough about his traveling companions for one very long day. “Alright, let’s just give it a shot, then,” he said instead.
Schuntz carefully walked over to stand at the pillar while Lucian headed to the edge of the arc. Finding the midway point between the far right starting point and the center, he inched slightly left to stand where he imagined 47 degrees would fall. Blake then started at the pillar and began taking steps out into the field, past Lucian. Once he had gone out 160 steps with the heel of his shoe touching the toe of his other, he turned around.
“I think this is about it,” he called back. “Where should I be?”
“Move slightly left, Mr. Valenti,” Schuntz instructed with a wave of his hand. Blake nodded and took a few steps left.
“Like this?” he asked.
“Yes, that is about right,” Schuntz responded. “I believe that the pillar directly next to you is our next destination.”
Blake looked at the pillar just over a foot away to his right. “Looks right to me!” he said, as if he had any other choice in the matter.
Lucian looked back at Schuntz and nodded. With this, both of them left their places and went to join Blake at the next pillar. Standing in front of it, all three gazed into the vertical, glowing ice, where yet another new face appeared and spoke to them.
“I herald in the springtime, carried by the breeze.
In winter I retreat again, lest my forked tail freeze.
My nesting brings good fortune, while killing me a curse.
So follow my instructions, for better or for worse.
I fly off at an angle to match the farthest spear.
In one second I could reach your goal while you stay standing here.”
The three travelers stood there silently, mulling over the words that were just spoken to them. It took a few minutes before anyone said anything.
“Well, I think it’s a bird,” Lucian guessed.
“I agree,” Schuntz said. “And, more specifically, I believe it is a swallow. They have been considered ushers of springtime and good luck if nesting at one’s home. Also, the forked tail strongly hints at the anatomy of a swallow.”
“Alright then,” Lucian said. “So, for the distance, how far can a swallow fly in one second?”
“That is near impossible to determine, Mr. Aarden” Schuntz insisted, immediately dismissing the boy’s logic. “There is no way any of us knows the airspeed of a swallow.”
“Well…,” Blake began. “I mean…, is it carrying anything?”
Once again, both Lucian and Schuntz turned to him, baffled.
“Why would it matter if it’s carrying anything?” Lucian asked.
Blake looked back at him smugly. “Obviously, if it’s carrying something, it would be slower than its average airspeed,” he said.
“How, in Heaven’s name, would you even know such a thing?” Schuntz asked him. Blake just smiled.
“Well, you just have to know these sorts of things when you’re king!” he exclaimed. He stared in silent, excited anticipation at the blank faces of his two companions, but got nothing.
“Seriously!?” Blake asked, throwing his hands in the air. “Nothing??”
Both Lucian and Schuntz shook their heads.
“Ugh,” Blake moaned. “That movie’s a classic!”
“Well, regardless of how you might have come by that information,” Schuntz said, “it is necessary if we are to calculate the distance we must go to the next pillar.”
“When I looked it up a few years ago, it said that European swallows fly at about 24 miles per hour,” Blake explained.
“But how do you know it’s a European swallow?” Lucian asked him. “Aren’t there swallows in other parts of the world, too?”
“The riddle said something about flying away for winter so its tail doesn’t freeze off or something,” Blake said. “African swallows don’t migrate, so it has to be European.”
“That would put its distance in one second at slightly over 35 feet,” Schuntz stated, having apparently done the math in his head while the two boys chatted.
“Okay, so that’s our distance, then,” Lucian said. “Now, what was the angle?”
“Of the farthest spear,” Schuntz said thoughtfully. “I cannot imagine to what that refers….”
“Well, back when I used to throw javelin, our coach always told us, to throw as far as possible, we had to throw it at a 35 degree angle,” Lucian interjected. “Maybe that’s what it’s referring to?”
“It is certainly the best lead that we have,” Schuntz admitted reluctantly. It was clear to Lucian that the learned professor was struggling internally with the uncertainty of it all, attempting to accept his lack of knowledge and control throughout this process. “Let us attempt it, at least.”
Assuming their positions, Lucian stood at what he assessed was about 35 degrees on the arc, and Blake walked out 35 feet. When Blake came to a stop, he was already standing directly in front of a pillar.
“This the next one?” he asked.
Schuntz lined the two boys up in his sight. “It would appear so, Mr. Valenti,” he affirmed.
Lucian and Schuntz then made their way across the very short distance to stand beside Blake. In much the same manner as before, they lined up in front of the glowing blue column as a face appeared and spoke to them.
“Joining with the other two, we make a set of three.
Poisons or defilements, only sages are set free.
Although they call me ignorant, my cunning shall enrapture,
For men I do turn into beasts and legions I do capture.
To exit, sum your angles prior, then find their golden twin.
Then walk the length of the first temple, where my sacrifice is sin.”
“That one’s not very clear at all…,” Blake said in disappointment. “What does it even mean, ‘Joining with the other two?’ The snake and the bird?”
“What is normally paired with a snake and a bird?” Lucian asked Schuntz. The professor just shook his head.
“I do not know, Mr. Aarden,” h
e said, scrunching up his forehead in disapproval.
Lucian continued to think about what animals were normally grouped with snakes and birds. He felt as though he had just seen a movie or something with a snake and a bird in it, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Something about the snake’s head getting chopped off. Then a bird coming down and getting eaten by another bird….
“My dream!” Lucian suddenly exclaimed out loud. “I had a dream a while ago about a snake, two birds, and a bunch of pigs! Do you think it’s a pig?”
Schuntz’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Mr. Aarden,” he said with half an excited smile. “I believe that you are correct. In Buddhist symbolism, the snake, bird, and pig represent anger, desire, and ignorance – the three poisons, or defilements. Additionally, this riddle speaks of turning men into beasts, as men were into pigs in Homer’s Odyssey, and capturing Legion in the biblical account of an exorcism. The speaker is most certainly a pig.”
Lucian smiled proudly. “Awesome,” he said. “So, where is it a sin to sacrifice pigs?”
“Judaism,” Schuntz said. “The ‘first temple’ most likely refers to the First Temple of Solomon. The biblical accounts measure it at 60 cubits in length, which would be 90 feet.”
Lucian found himself quite relieved to be traveling with a religion professor. “Okay, so, lastly, what’s the angle? Something about a golden twin?”
Schuntz thought about this for a moment. “Perhaps they are referring to the Golden Ratio,” he suggested. “It is a ratio between parts seen throughout different phenomena in the world. The ratio of the larger part to the smaller part is the same as the ratio between their sum and the larger part. If you give me a few minutes, I will attempt to calculate it for our two prior angles….”
“Don’t you just multiply them by 1.618?” Blake asked.
Schuntz just glared at him. “How is it that you have suddenly become the keeper of all arcane know-ledge?” he asked the boy dryly.
Blake shrugged. “Golden Ratio is the name of an album,” he said. “So I looked it up.”
