Up some stairs and through several open doors, Alf found the first puzzle. Three stone blocks, as big as Alf's head, were on one side of the room. Each one had a number carved in it: 122, 230, and 457. At the other end of the room was a yellow wall with bold red words:
"Move Blocks Here"
Easy enough, Alf thought. He set his shoulder to one of them and pushed. It was heavier than he expected. Much heavier. He strained until he managed to make the block budge a little, and then slide across the smooth floor. He got it most of the way, stopped, and stepped back. Close enough. He managed to push another one of the blocks the same distance, and a door opened up in the seamless yellow wall.
He was about to go through, when he thought to himself: what if "Move blocks here" meant all three of the blocks? #457 still stood at the other end of the room. But the door was open- the puzzle must be solved! He must be finished! Alf decided that he didn't really care.
There was a long corridor between this and the next puzzle. Paintings of children were hanging on either side, each with their name on a brass plate under the frame. The paintings were very good, but they reminded Alf of History class, and he hurried by without paying them much attention.
The second puzzle was a hall full of candles, the big kind that are still used in certain churches. Each one was numbered, from 1 to 1000. On a tall stand, too tall for Alf to reach, was an old-fashioned snuffer. He knocked the stand over and grabbed the snuffer. He looked around for instructions, and sure enough, in bold red on a yellow wall at the far end of the room, were the instructions:
"Snuff Candles"
All of the candles? Or just two of them? It was so vague! Alf thought that maybe he should snuff all of them to make up for only moving two of the blocks in the last puzzle, and started. But after twenty minutes, he was hot, sweaty, and his eyes were starting to hurt. He had to take a break.
He started afresh, but only for three more minutes (snuffing about twenty candles). He decided again that the directions were better taken literally, and, as the door had opened right after he snuffed candles #1 and #2, he set the snuffer somewhere on the floor and moved on, leaving off at #344.
The next two puzzles were very much the same. Tedious, and involving lots of unpleasant things that needed to be put together or moved. He was lazy about it, but still the doors opened.
The fifth puzzle was behind a closed door, set in a red wall. Alf could hear music behind it, he was sure. It didn't look as if it were locked. Why shouldn't he just open it? His hand went to the knob. He twisted it- it certainly wasn't locked. But he didn't open it, no. He let go of the knob, and stepped back. He may have been a lazy, thoughtless boy, but he still didn't like to break the rules.
A few seconds later, the door swung open on its own. There was a dark and narrow hallway, like the entrance of a movie theater.
Alf entered the fifth puzzle.
He emerged from the dark hallway into the half-light of an enormous music hall. He was standing on the stage, surrounded by an endless sea of red seats. He couldn't see the ceiling or walls of this room, it was so cavernous.
Lying on the stage were a hundred orchestra instruments, some of them broken, and all of them jet black except for yellow numbers on their various keys, strings, and valves. Alf looked at the number on the shattered piano- it was #457. The same as the block he had left behind in the first puzzle.
Then Alf saw that he could have saved himself a lot of trouble. Everything he had left undone had piled up on him.
Every inch of the stage was painted yellow, and in bold red letters, it said:
"Make Music"
Alf picked up an intact drumstick, and hit a snare drum, just once. A trap door opened up in the stage, with stairs leading down, down, down. Technically, he had solved the fifth puzzle.
But Alf knew it was no good. He couldn't finish this way. He looked around, and found a box of tools that had everything he would need to repair the instruments. He also found a small table with a cup of orange juice and two slices of bread, hiding behind a double bass. And he got to work.
It must have been a whole day before he was done, which was really pretty good for a boy who didn't know anything about musical instruments. But finally, when everything was in working order, he put his tools back where he found them and took the table with the empty glass and plate off the stage. He waited.
Then, the instruments came to life. All of the yellow numbers faded, and each of the instruments stood up in mid-air (except the piano, and some of the other bulkier ones). They hovered eerily for a while. It felt as if the whole room was taking a deep breath.
The cello played first, growling low and sweet and dark. The drums rolled. And then, the whole orchestra joined in like an organized avalanche. It was the most beautiful sound that Alf had ever heard. He wasn't sure how long it went on, but it wasn't nearly long enough.
When it finished, a hole opened up in the black ceiling, and a ladder came sliding down.
Alf climbed up through the hole in the ceiling and found himself in a room that was too bright to look at. After the dimness of that music hall, he couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a couple of seconds. He thought that this must be where the light came from at the top of the mansion. He stumbled around for a while, but his eyes just wouldn't adjust. It was too bright.
Then, he pulled Nib's cap down over his head. It filtered out the piercing brightness, and he saw that he was in a room with a fireplace, and bookshelves. And directly opposite him was a yellow door, with the words in red:
"It is Time"
He went over to the door, turned the knob, and went through.
