“No?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You people are nuts,” muttered Whiska.
“No—not in any conventional sense, anyway. I mean, I’m just a face—no genitals. No distinguishing gender characteristics.”
“Fair point,” I conceded. “I guess your voice just makes you sound like a man.”
“Because it’s deep?”
I nodded. “You don’t meet a lot of ladies who sound like that.”
“But you’ve never met any other talking rocks, so you have no basis for comparison—maybe my voice is very high compared to others of my kind,” said the rock with an annoying degree of logic.
“Are there any others of your kind?” asked Nadi.
“Not that I know of,” replied the rock.
“Then this whole conversation is kind of pointless, no?” I said.
“Is it ever pointless to try to understand who someone truly is?” replied the rock.
“Oh, sure—make me look like the kramlin’s gaping waste hole,” I said, exasperated. (Kramlins are huge, elephant-like creatures that produce significantly larger discharges of excrement than any other animal in the world. It’s pretty disgusting. On the plus side, their waste smells like peppermint, so that’s not a bad deal.)
“Maybe we should get back to the riddle…” prompted Rummy.
“Yes, please,” said Nadi. She looked at the rock. “Where is Borokia?”
“You don’t want me to tell you everything, do you?”
“Actually, yes,” replied Nadi. “Is there any reason you can’t? Other than the answer, I mean.”
“Nothing in the enchantment prevents me,” said the rock, seeming surprised. “It’s strange—no one has ever asked me for objective facts to help solve the riddle before. In fact, no one has ever solved the first one. People generally just wander off and disappear after I give it to them.”
“Well, then, we’ll be the first!” said Rummy.
I looked at Nadi and whispered, “Something seems off.”
She nodded. “Agreed. But, as long as the rock is forthcoming with facts that will help us answer the question, let’s keep going.”
I shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
Nadi turned back to the rock. “Let me ask that again—where is Borokia relative to Gloraria and Canarvon?”
“It’s one hundred and twenty-five kelms to the east of Canarvon and five hundred kelms to the west of Gloraria.” The rock pursed its lips. “I mean, approximately. No one expects an exact answer.”
“Wait—you mean to say that there’s a range of possible answers to the riddle?” asked Whiska curiously.
“Yes,” replied the rock. “Well, within reason—a range of a few minutes, depending on how precise your measurements are.”
“So, the enchantment allows for more than one answer?” Whiska looked at us. “Do you hairless skin rags know what that means?”
“That we’ve got a little margin for error?” ventured Rummy.
“Obviously, you addle-brained ale slurper! What it really means is that whoever cast this enchantment is incredibly powerful.”
“So we probably don’t want to bump up against them in a dark alleyway,” I replied before looking at the peak looming before us. “Or a mountain.”
“I seriously doubt that whoever created the enchantment is still around,” replied Whiska, managing to utter an entire sentence without insulting someone for maybe the third time since I’d met her. “This is ancient magic! Thousands of years old."
“Be that as it may,” said Nadi, ever practical, “we still have a riddle to solve.”
“My skin is…hard. You couldn’t…use it to…make rags,” said Borg, looking at Whiska.
“Here’s what we know,” said Nadi, ignoring our largest and smallest party members. “We know how far Borokia is from both locations. We know how fast each dragon travels. Now we just need to calculate how long it takes them to get to the same point, right?”
“Well,” said Rummy, “the riddle is kind of a trick question.” He looked at the rock. “You asked us what time the two travelers meet in Borokia, right?”
“Yes,” replied the rock, wiggling its rocky eyebrows.
“Well, then, the answer to that is just how long it takes the slower traveler to get there, accounting for their different start times; they’re not meeting at some indeterminate midpoint based on their speed of travel…they’re meeting at a fixed location, and they can only meet up once they’re both there. Right?”
Nadi nodded. “Makes sense.” She looked sheepish. “Does anyone actually know how to figure that out? I never really…well, no one ever taught me how to do that sort of thing.”
“Not me,” said Whiska. “Math is for clerks and crotch grabbers.”
“Crotch grabbers?” I said, my tone intentionally neutral.
“Well, everyone I’ve known who had a head for numbers liked to stick their hands down their pants.”
“How many people have you known who had a head for numbers?” I asked.
“One,” answered Whiska.
“And that person liked to grab his—or her; I’m not sexist—crotch because he—or she—liked to do math…?” I prompted.
“No, you witless tree climber! He—it’s always a he when it comes to crotch grabbing—just liked grabbing his crotch. And he was good at math,” said Whiska huffily.
“I’m so confused,” said Rummy.
“That makes all of us,” I said.
“So, none of us knows figures?” asked Nadi, looking worried.
“Assuming they…do not stop…to sleep…Bob will take…ten hours and…twenty-five minutes…to reach Borokia. Lavinia will take…fifty hours. Lavinia is…an elven name. She will only…need four hours…of sleep. It would be…hard to sleep…on a dragon’s…back. Gold dragons…must rest…for two hours…for every…ten hours they…fly. Assuming the gold…is rested at…the start, and assuming…Lavinia sleeps when… the dragon rests…it will take fifty-eight…hours of travel. So…she would arrive…at three in the morning …Fanting Standard Time …two and…a half days…later.” Borg paused as we all stared at him in wonder, but before anyone could say anything, he continued. “But ‘Bob’…is a title…reserved for a…high priest…of Kandar. They…won’t enter…Borokia because it…allows citizens to…wear open-toed…shoes.” He looked at the rock. “So the answer…is that they…never meet…in Borokia.”
“Holy balls,” breathed Whiska.
“Borg, are you sure that you’re right about—” began Nadi before the rock cut her off.
“That’s…that’s correct,” said the rock. It let out a low whistle. “You’re as smart as you are handsome!” It seemed delighted.
Five minutes of high-fiving and celebration ensued, with Borg smiling awkwardly; I don’t think he enjoyed being the center of attention as much as other members of our party.