48

RIDDLE ME THIS!

‘I’m here for the rutter you riddled from Ronin,’ explained Jack, trying his best not to be unsettled by the monk’s proximity.

‘A riddle he utter –’ the monk’s eyes rolled towards Hana – ‘yet mine is still to answer.’

‘He’s already asked you a riddle!’ exclaimed Hana with alarm.

Jack nodded. Hana pulled him away from the monk, whispering urgently, ‘But you have to answer it. He’ll take your soul if you don’t.’

‘You really believe that,’ replied Jack, glancing at the monk who was now picking lice from his beard and eating each one with relish.

Hana pointed at the maddened ones hanging in the shadows, eyeing the Riddling Monk with devoted reverence. ‘Onryō or not, they look to have lost their souls to me.’

With a cold dread, Jack realized Hana could be right. The monk he’d taken for a harmless fool may be mad, but he had a powerful grip over the minds of others. Whatever his secret, he was a dangerous individual.

‘Let’s find the rutter and get out of here,’ said Jack.

Hana stuck close to Jack as he approached the monk.

‘Answer me this first,’ he demanded. ‘Do you know where my logbook is?’

The Riddling Monk smiled inanely. ‘I have many a book. But what it took to take, you must challenge me or … your mind will break.’

‘Be careful, Jack. It could be a dangerous trick,’ said Hana.

‘Why take life so seriously?’ the monk laughed, dancing a jig around her. ‘You can’t get out of it alive, believe me!’

‘Hana, too much is at stake,’ said Jack, under his breath. ‘Too many people have sacrificed themselves for this rutter. I made a promise to my father. There’s no going back –’

‘Of course you can’t leave, you’re in a circle, see!’ interjected the monk, pirouetting on the spot. ‘Once bound inside, it’s riddle you, riddle me, riddle die.’

At that moment, the sun dipped behind the horizon and dusk fell upon the temple. The air chilled and the whole place became as ghostly as a graveyard. Like living corpses, the monk’s maddened disciples slunk out of the shadows and encircled Jack and Hana.

‘Looks like we don’t have a choice,’ said Jack, taking Hana’s hand.

‘Good! Better! Best!’ exclaimed the monk, clapping with manic joy. ‘The challenge is set, no more bets!’

He dragged them inside the ruined pagoda. Black as the devil’s cave, they stumbled over bones, both animal and human, strewn across the main hall. The Riddling Monk disappeared into the darkness and Hana gripped Jack tighter as the sounds of slithering and ragged breathing shuffled around them. A leathery hand touched her face and she cried out. Jack drew Hana to him, shielding her from whatever horrors hid within.

The Riddling Monk clapped twice and several of his disciples lit torches with a guttering candle. The flickering flames revealed hungry, gaunt faces, toothless and terrifying, their cracked lips ceaselessly whispering, ‘The Answer? … The Answer? … The Answer?’

Spiders, the size of fists, crawled up the walls and cobwebs hung like veils from the rafters. The Riddling Monk was now perched upon a wooden throne, festooned with rotting fruit and long-dead flowers. He wore a crown of thorns and in his hand was a gnarled staff, which he beat upon the floor.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The whispering ceased and his disciples lay themselves down among the bones. Jack and Hana stood, still and silent, amid the madness.

Like a preacher in his pulpit, the Riddling Monk proclaimed, ‘Unless a fool dies, he won’t be cured.’

His disciples all cried, ‘He has the Answer!’

‘Only a fool thinks he knows everything. It’s the wise man who knows he knows nothing.’

‘He has the Answer!’ they praised.

The Riddling Monk stared at Jack and Hana with bulging eyes. ‘Are you wise fools or foolishly wise? Let’s see you pull the truth from its disguise!’

‘Ask a Riddle! Ask a Riddle! Ask a Riddle!’ chanted his disciples with feverish excitement.

The Riddling Monk held up a hand for silence.

‘Riddle me this! What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?’

Jack was taken by surprise. He’d expected the original riddle about God and the Devil. But there’d be no point in arguing with a madman. He’d agreed to the challenge and so decided it was easier to play along with the monk’s crazed game. He thought hard over this conundrum. The one the monk had given him the first time they met – What gets wet as it dries? – had a logical answer despite its seeming contradiction.

Hana looked anxiously to Jack, whose brow was deeply furrowed. ‘Could it be a baby?’ she suggested.

‘Is that your Answer?’ chirped the monk.

‘NO!’ said Jack quickly. He whispered to Hana, ‘It can’t be a baby. They weep.’

The answer was on the tip of his tongue. A bed … a head … a mouth …

Recalling his nautical lessons with his father, Jack addressed the Riddling Monk. ‘The Answer is a river.’

‘Is it? Is it? Is it?’ intoned his disciples.

The Riddling Monk thumped his stick upon the floor. He glared at Jack before suddenly bursting into a crazed grin.

‘Correct,’ he replied, emphasizing each part of the word as if it pained him to say so.

A collective gasp from the disciples filled the pagoda’s creaking hall.

‘Now I must give an Answer for an Answer. Yes, I know of this rutter.’

Jack was taken off-guard by the Riddling Monk’s unexpected lucid response. ‘Where is it then? Do you have it?’

The Riddling Monk laughed wildly, slapping the side of his throne with glee. ‘Two more questions, two more riddles! Once again, you’re in the middle.’

Jack had been tricked. The Riddling Monk was playing games with them.

‘Riddle me this! What’s so fragile when you say its name you break it?’

Jack and Hana again fell into thought. This time the ideas weren’t so forthcoming. Not for the first time, Jack wished Yori was with them. A dull headache began to pulse at his temples and Jack saw Hana was rubbing hers too.

‘A china cup?’ offered Hana, but dismissed it straight away. ‘No, no, what other things break? Your leg … a wave …’

Then Jack thought of Jess and Akiko. ‘Your heart! When you say a loved one’s name that can break your heart, can’t it?’

Hana nodded slowly, but still looked unconvinced.

‘Answer me now or forever cower!’ taunted the monk.

His disciples began to beat the floor. ‘The Answer! The Answer! The Answer!’

‘What else could it be?’ said Jack, the rhythmic pulse piling on the pressure and his headache intensifying.

Hana didn’t answer. Her eyes were screwed up with pain. Jack felt it too, like a drum inside his head that only the correct Answer could end. He turned to the Riddling Monk. ‘The Answer is –’

‘No!’ cried Hana, putting a hand over his mouth. ‘Remember what that monk said to me when I shouted for you in the Tōdai-ji Temple – Please don’t break the silence.’

Above the cacophony of pounding, Hana cried, ‘The Answer is silence!’

The beating stopped and all eyes fell upon the Riddling Monk. His face seemed to swell, burning bright red with annoyance.

‘Co-rr-ect,’ he spat.

The disciples wailed. Jack stared at Hana in amazement, now glad more than ever to have her company. The headache began to fade like a receding wave.

The Riddling Monk leapt out of his throne and began to pace the floor, muttering, ‘I need a riddle, a riddle of rhyme, a riddle that turns and twists the mind.’

Behind him, Jack heard shuffling and saw the door had been blocked by a group of enraged disciples. A cry of jubilation brought his attention back to the monk, who now danced a jig upon the raised dais of the hall.

‘Riddle me this! The one who makes it sells it. The one who buys it doesn’t use it. The one who’s using it doesn’t know he’s using it. What is it?’

This riddle proved even harder to fathom than the last. Jack’s mind seemed unable to hold thoughts. They kept slipping away like eels, and his headache returned with a vengeance.

Hana fell to her knees. Jack dropped beside her. ‘Hana! What’s the matter?’

‘I … I … I can’t think …’ she stuttered.

Jack realized whatever strange power the monk had, he was working its magic upon them. Driving them to the brink of madness.