Tick folded his arms and shivered, looking up at the sky. There was no sign of the sun, but it seemed to have grown a little darker since they’d arrived. The temperature had dropped too, and for the first time in months, he felt justified wearing his scarf. He wrapped it a little tighter, then walked over to sit on a small metal cube next to the road.

“Hurry up and figure it out, Sofia,” he said before letting out a huge yawn. “I don’t really wanna hang out here much longer.”

“You could help, ya know,” she mumbled, still studying the paper.

Actually Tick was doing just that, reviewing the poem in his mind’s eye; without meaning to, he’d memorized it. But he didn’t know what to look for or try to solve. The riddle seemed to have only one purpose—to confuse its reader.

Paul yawned and stretched. “Man, I can’t just sit here. Let’s get moving.”

“Where to?” Tick asked, looking down one length of the endless road, then the other. The heavy clouds had sunk to the ground, as if seeking warmth and companionship. The only things Tick could see were the countless heaps and angles of dark metal, covered in a mist that grew thicker by the minute. Tick shivered again.

“I don’t know, dude,” Paul said. “That way.” He pointed to his left, then changed his mind, pointing the other direction. “Nah, that way.”

Sofia stood, shaking her head; she seemed as frustrated as Tick about the riddle. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.” Without waiting for a response, she started walking down the cracked and pitted road.

~

Thirty minutes later, nothing had changed except for the air around them, which continued to grow thicker with wet, heavy mist. The world of metal was almost lost in darkness. Obscure, creepy shapes appeared and disappeared, all sharp angles and looming curves. The burnt smells intensified, as if the kids were approaching a huge factory or garbage dump.

Tick officially hated the place, his panic growing at the thought that maybe they’d be stuck here, that they’d have to sleep here. If the stupid riddle was their only way out . . .

He kept running through it in his mind, trying to recall the methods he’d used to solve the original Twelve Clues. Those had seemed so easy in comparison, almost childish. Magic words, thumping the ground with your foot, figuring out a day and a time. Compared to that, this new one seemed like advanced calculus.

For some reason, the lines “All this you must ignore and hate, for you to find the wanted fate” kept returning to his mind. Something told him that was the key to figuring everything out.