"Maybe if I just identify them, it will do."
"Still trying for the peaceful way," she said, disgusted.
Che rifled through his excellent memory for obscure facts. He had been tutoring Sim for years, and so was very sharp on facts. The men were different colors, but also seemed to have different qualities. "Vita Man A, you are the one who sees well," he said.
The orange man nodded and stepped back.
Che addressed the gray man, who seemed to have very quick reactions. "Vita Man B, your nerves are excellent."
The gray man stepped back.
The green man seemed to have snow on his head and shoulders, as though freezing, but did not look at all uncomfortable. "Vita Man C, you can beat the common cold."
The next man was stoutly built and shining white, like a beam of sunshine. "Vita Man D, you have strong bones."
The last one was blood red. "Vita Man E, you have a strong heart."
Now they were all retreating across the bridge. Che nodded. "We cracked the riddle. They knew it. There was no point in continuing the Challenge."
"I think they are cowards."
She did have a militaristic mindset. "Maybe we'll have to fight in the next Challenge," he said.
They crossed the drawbridge, stepped onto the inner shore of the moat-and found themselves in darkness.
"Did night fall, or is my sight failing?" Zyzzyva inquired.
"It seems to be magical darkness. This must be the second Challenge."
"Well, it can't hurt me; I have no concern about darkness. Zombies thrive in it. But it may be a problem for you."
"Yes. I prefer light when I have something to accomplish." But he stepped forward, having no alternative.
"I can go first, if you want."
"I suspect that whatever is here will find me regardless." He banged into something solid, and stopped.
"Did it find you?"
"I found it. It seems to be a wall. The way must turn."
He turned to the left, but soon encountered another wall. He turned to the right, and found another wall. There seemed to be no open way forward. But behind was the moat; that was unlikely to be the route. Yet there had to be a way.
He felt the walls, but found no break. They extended high and low and to either side, blocking every avenue.
"Maybe you have to say a spell," Zyzzyva suggested.
"Open sez me," he said. But the walls remained solid.
He retreated, backing to the moat. Suddenly the castle returned to view, in full daylight. There was no sign of any tunnel, with or without walls. Could the darkness be illusion?
Still, the illusion of darkness was like the illusion of light: If it seemed to exist, it did exist. An illusory lamp worked as well as a real one. He could try to ignore the darkness, but that wouldn't banish the effect.
Zyzzyva appeared beside him. "Ah, there you are. That's one weird tunnel. I can't see into it from here, or out of it from there."
"It seems to be a structure of illusion. Made to conceal the wall. There must be some way around that wall, if I could only see it."
She laughed. "Too bad the wall's not illusion too."
Then they looked at each other with dawning surmise. Surmises were always best when dawning; they weren't much for evening. "Could it be?" he asked. "An illusion of touch?"
"Does that kind of illusion exist?"
"I don't see why not. It could be covered by darkness because otherwise we'd see that the wall isn't there, and be suspicious."
"Unless it's an invisible real wall."
"No need to cover that with darkness."
"One way to find out."
They forged back into the invisible darkness. Che put his hands forward to find the wall. When he did, he pushed against it-and his hands moved on through its seeming substance as if penetrating jelly. He forged on, feeling the pressure of the wall against his flanks and wings and finally his tail. Then he was beyond it, and in a moment emerged into light.
Zyzzyva reappeared just behind him. "That was interesting. I think you mortals have more fun than we zombies do."
"Also more frustration."
"I suppose so. We tend to take things more as they come, and relax under a nice blanket of dirt when nothing comes."
"We seem to be through the second Challenge. There should be one more."
She looked around. "We seem to be in an old workshop."
It was true. It was a roofless chamber filled with odds, evens, ends, middles, and whatnots. There were no doors, and the walls were too high to jump over.
"The Challenge must be to find our way out of here and into the castle."
"You still can't fly?"
Che spread his wings and flicked his side. He did not lighten. "Correct."
"It is interesting the way these Challenges are tailored to the querents," she remarked. "An ogre could bash his way out."
"I suspect an ogre would find his strength missing. He would have to use his mind."
"His what?"
Che had to smile. "True-ogres are justifiably proud of their stupidity. But he might make a face and scare a wall into collapsing."
"Yes, I understand that an ogress can curdle milk with half a glare."
"And crack a mirror just by thinking of looking into it. But this isn't solving this Challenge. I suppose you could reach the top of the wall by standing on my back and jumping, but I would be too heavy for you to pull up after you."
"Surely so. Still, it would not hurt for me to look. There might be a ladder on the other side that I could pass back to you."
Che looked down at his four hooves. "I don't think I could use a ladder."
"Maybe a long board for a ramp."
He nodded. "You seem to be thinking better than I am."
"Unlikely. Everybody knows zombies have rotten brains."
"What everyone knows is not necessarily true."
She glanced obliquely at him. "I gather you're not much for conventional prejudice."
"Not much," he agreed. But he had to admit to himself that he had made a reasonable effort of prejudice, before getting better acquainted with this zombie.
He went to stand beside a wall, and she got on his back, then carefully stood. "I can't quite reach the top."
"Maybe if I stand on a crate." But the crates were in poor repair, and he couldn't find any he could safely use.
"Maybe if you just lift me with your hands," she suggested.
"I can try."
"I'll delete some weight." She removed her small helmet, letting her hair hang loose, and her short sword.