In a Weary World

Chapter XXII: New Problems

People are wrong when they say things like, "I didn't have time to think." If you're really worried, or really miserable, those feelings come welling up around the edges of the other things you're doing, so that you are in the feelings even when you're working hard at something else. -- Diana Wynne Jones, Conrad's Fate

Hjalmar woke to the sound of someone hammering something. He pulled his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out the noise. Really, why did they have to go and make such a racket in the middle of the night?

"I know you're awake," someone said. They sounded almost as grumpy as he felt. "I saw you move."

"G'wy," Hjalmar said, not bothering to see who was there. "T'erly."

There was a moment's silence. Then, "I didn't understand a word of that."

Hjalmar was finally annoyed into sitting up. "I said, go away, it's too early -- oh, it's you."

Solvej tilted her head to one side. "Did you expect the Magician? Or the Grand Duchess?"

The mere thought of the Grand Duchess appearing in his bedroom at any time, but especially in the middle of the night, made Hjalmar shudder. So did the thought of what she would say if she knew Solvej was in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

Wait, she wasn't actually in his room. She was sitting on the windowsill. How she had got there, and how she was keeping her balance, were mysteries he didn't feel awake enough to investigate.

"Go away," he said, stifling a yawn as he lay down again. "It's not morning yet."

Solvej, alas, had no respect for how late or early it was. "I know the answer!"

Hjalmar considered pulling his quilt over his head. He decided that it would do no good. When Solvej had something to say, there was no getting rid of her until she said it. "The answer to what?"

"The first challenge! I know the answer!"

"That's good," Hjalmar said sleepily. The full significance of what she'd just said hit him like a thunderbolt. "You know it? How? What is it?"

"Open the window and I'll tell you. I don't want anyone to overhear."

Who could overhear us when you're sitting on a third-storey windowsill? Hjalmar wondered. Then he realised, Oh. The Magician, that's who.

~~~~

"A what?"

"A shoe," Solvej repeated. "The answer is a shoe."

Hjalmar rubbed his eyes, wishing he would stop feeling so tired when they were in the middle of an important conversation. "Why a shoe? That's an... odd choice, isn't it?"

"That's why the two of them agreed on it."

Hjalmar hid a yawn behind his hand. "So what do we do now? Go to Rigmor -- or whatever that thing is -- and say, 'You're thinking of a shoe?'"

Solvej leaned back, and almost fell over as she had apparently forgotten she was sitting on the floor and not in a chair. "No, not quite like that. If we do it that way, it's sure to realise I followed it. Let's..." She stopped. Her brow furrowed. "Actually, I've no idea what we should do. I'll have to think about it."

"By all means, think about it," Hjalmar said with another yawn. "But can you think about it later? It's four in the morning!"

"I keep forgetting how much sleep mortals need." Solvej clambered to her feet and brushed an imaginary speck of dust off her dress. "I'll have an idea by breakfast. Probably."