suspected.
‘What shall we do?’ asked Bb, crossing the path and lowering himself onto a large smoothly-worn boulder. ‘This river simply flows round and round, and we’re too tired to go much further.’
‘We’ll camp here for a while, and rest,’ Shylock said. ‘We’ve still got a few sandwiches in the nap-sack, so we’ll eat and sleep for a while. Then decide when we’re fresh.’
‘Then we won’t be needing this,’ said Bb lifting the figurine and tossing it over Shylock’s head towards the river.
Instead of splashing into the river as they had expected, it bounced back and fell back onto the river bank not far from where Permission sat. Having watched what had happened, she lifted it and threw it towards the river one more time only for the same thing to happen except that this time it didn’t bounce back far enough to reach the bank and disappeared beneath the flowing water with the originally expected splash.
‘An unseen barrier!’ shouted Bb. ‘An invisible wall, probably hiding something.’
‘Looks to me like we’ve found our missing department of financial affairs’ suggested Permission, suddenly more animated by the prospect of getting somewhere. ‘But how do we get in. There’s no door.’
‘There is a door,’ said Shylock. ‘We just can’t see it, but it must be there somewhere.’
‘Probably hidden from the Amazon ants,’ suggested Bb, to nods of agreement all round. ‘If I could get to the wall, I have a Get Lucky charm in my pouch which would help us, but the wall appears to be in the middle of the river.’
‘It’s not very wide,’ said Permission. ‘Perhaps if we held onto your belt, you could reach it?’
‘Well, maybe,’ said Bb, unenthusiastically. ‘I’m not really a very good swimmer. Couldn’t I hold one of you over the water?’
‘Whatever way we do it, it’s going to be dangerous. The water is flowing very quickly,’ said Shylock.
‘And if it is a defensive barrier, like a moat, who knows what may be in there,’ added Permission.
‘Like what?’ asked Bb, even more concerned.
‘Alligators, Piranha…’suggested Permission.
‘…frog spawn?’ added Bb. ‘Horrible stuff to fall into, especially if they have all these slimy little legs that trample all over you.’
‘Well, I don’t see much choice. We’ll just have to be careful,’ said Shylock. ‘Come on Bb, prepare your charm and come over to the edge here. Permission and I will both hold onto your belt while you lean over. As long as we take care, you should be fine.’
Reluctantly, Bb opened his pouch and removed a small blue and yellow speckled egg-shaped object. Holding it firmly in one hand, he stepped between his two companions and waited while they slipped their hands through his belt and braced themselves to take his weight. When they were all ready, Shylock encouraged him to lean forward over the fast-flowing current. Cautiously at first, then more confidently as he realised he was securely held, he stretched one hand forward, reached out and tapped the invisible barrier. ‘Got it,’ he said, pulling back slightly.
‘Keep good hold,’ Bb said, swapping the charm-egg from one hand to the other. ‘Now, once again.’
But just as he leaned forward, suddenly without any warning the river bank under Permissions feet gave way and she screamed releasing her grip on his belt. Reacting to Permission’s scream, Shylock instinctively released Bb and grabbed her round the waist pulling her back onto the bank.
Now it was Bb’s turn to scream, and scream he did as he fell into the terror-ridden water. Moments later still screaming, desperate to avoid sinking he thrashed at the water. Then, his bottom touched the river-bottom and he sat up. Puzzled, he reached down with one hand and touched the bottom of the river. It was barely up to his waist. ‘It’s shallow!’ he shouted, relieved.
Permission laughed, releasing the tension of guilt which had almost over-powered her. Shylock, also pleased, was on the point of suggesting to Bb that he should get out of the water when the water began to turn red.
‘Oh, no,’ muttered Bb, looking at his hands as they too turned red.
‘What’s happening?’ shouted Permission, suddenly alarmed again.
‘It’s the egg,’ explained Bb. ‘I still had it in my hand when it cracked.’
‘But what’s the colour?’ she asked.
‘Red, I think,’ replied Bb.
‘No, I don’t mean what colour is it,’ Permission said, crossly. ‘I mean why are both the river and you turning red?’
‘I was going to throw the egg at the barrier,’ explained Bb. ‘To turn it red, so we could see it properly.’
‘So we could see it?’ said Permission. ‘Clever.’
‘Not so, now,’ said Bb, standing up and dripping red water. By now he was completely red from head to foot. ‘Fortunately, it only lasts for a few hours, but unfortunately I don’t have a second one, and this hasn’t helped us with the barrier.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Shylock. ‘Look at the colour of the water at the far side of the river.’
‘It’s red of course,’ said Bb.
‘Yes, but if the river is split in the middle by the barrier, how did it get red?’ asked Shylock.
‘You mean the barrier’s only above water?’ said Permission.
‘Exactly,’ said Shylock. ‘And as Bb’s already wet…’
‘That’s not fair,’ pleaded Bb. ‘I don’t like going under water.’
‘Do we have to say please?’ asked Permission
‘No. I suppose not,’ agreed Bb. ‘But,’ he added, getting down into a crawling position in the water. ‘If I drown, you’re to blame.’
Shylock and Permission watched as Bb ducked down under the flowing water and crawled underneath the invisible barrier. One thing they weren’t expecting was for him to disappear. They shouted after him, but to no avail. He was gone.
‘What happened?’ said Permission.
‘Beats me,’ replied Shylock, worried.
‘What if he’s in trouble? Shouldn’t we go after him?’ asked Permission.
But Shylock nodded. ‘No, let’s give him a little while and see if he comes back out.’
Waiting at the bank
Shylock and Permission sat side by side on the river bank, neither wishing to share their fears, yet each knowing how the other felt. By his reckoning, it had been at least a couple of hours since Bb had disappeared under the barrier - long enough for the river to return to it’s original colour - and he was close to announcing his intention to follow him, when suddenly the barrier disappeared.
There, directly across the river stood Bb side-by-side with a small white pony half his size. As they watched he waved and called over. ‘I’m afraid there’s no bridge, you’ll have to paddle.’
Shylock was about to complain when he noticed that Permission had already sat down and was removing her shoes. Grumbling, he followed suit. Soon, they were on the far bank and Shylock watched as Permission gave Bb a hug. ‘We thought you were lost,’ she told him, choking with emotion.
‘Oh good grief no,’ replied Bb, standing stiffly as she hugged him, not at all sure how to react to the unfamiliar sensations. ‘I’m…absolutely …fine.’
‘So,’ said Shylock, hiding his jealousy and turning to face the pony. ‘May we assume you are the safe-keeper?’
The pony remained silent, merely stomping one foreleg.
‘He doesn’t speak,’ explained Bb.
‘Of course,’ laughed Shylock. ‘He’s a pony!’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Bb. ‘He’s dumb.’
‘Bb! You’re being rude again,’ scolded Permission.
‘No, no! I mean he’s really dumb – he can’t talk, he’s lost his voice, mute, voiceless, silent,’ Bb persisted.
‘Ah,’ said Shylock, understanding at last. ‘You mean he would normally have been able to speak, but can’t?’
Before Bb could answer, the pony scuffed its fore-hoof on the ground.
‘He talks with his hoo
ves,’ Bb said. ‘All I’ve figured out so far is one stomp for yes and two stomps for no, but he understands very well and I’ve explained why were here.’
Shylock faced the pony once more. ‘Are you willing to help us?
The pony scuffled once.
‘Can you take us to the hard currency?’ he asked.
Two scuffles.
Can you tell us where it is?
One scuffle, and the pony turned and walked away a few paces, flicked it’s long mane to one side and looked back over one strong muscular shoulder.
‘I think we’re supposed to follow,’ said Permission, pulling on her second boot. ‘You’d better get your own shoes back on, Shylock.’
Nilrem
After walking behind the pony for only a few minutes the weary travellers arrived outside a large barn. Hesitating only momentarily before following him inside, they were just in time to witness an incredible transformation. The pony stood erect in the centre of the open straw covered floor, it’s outline bright and shimmering, then almost imperceptibly wavering – the basic shape changing subtly at , and then with more conviction. The body shrinking and rising up on hind legs, the forelegs contracting and forming arms, the mane becoming long silver flowing hair and beard adorning the wizened and solemn face of an ageing man. So entranced were they by the change to the pony that the simultaneous changes to the surrounding barn went for the most part unnoticed. Gone were the large lined wooden walls, and the swinging doors, replaced instead with a grand ancient hall with walls built from huge rough-cast stones and a vaulted ceiling held high with enormous hewn wooden arches.
‘Welcome to my home,’ said the new-look pony.