The air had grown cooler as the sun made its way across the sky and toward the horizon. The drip-drip-drip of the melting snow slowed considerably, and Tick shivered as he eagerly waited to see the next clue.

Mothball pulled out a familiar yellow envelope, though this one seemed thicker than the others, and a separate piece of white paper had been stapled to the upper left corner, its edges flapping loosely as she handled it. After a long look at Rutger, Mothball handed the package over to Tick, who snapped it out of her hand without meaning to look so anxious.

“Thanks,” he said, fingering the note attached to the envelope. “What’s this?”

“Flip it over and read it,” Rutger answered. “Thought you could at least figure that out by yourself.”

“Very funny,” Tick muttered as he did what he was told, lifting the paper to read the few sentences typed on the back:

Within you will find the next four clues in the sequence, numbers 7, 8, 9, and 10. Now, most certainly you will read these and conclude to yourself that I, your humble servant, have gone batty because they don’t seem like clues at all. I will only say this: EVERYTHING you receive is a clue.

Tick looked up at Mothball then down at Rutger, whose folded arms were resting on his huge belly. “Four clues at once?”

“He’s a bit hasty,” Mothball said. “You see, has to be twelve clues, there does, and we’ve only got a short time to go, ya know.”

“Why does there have to be twelve?”

“’Tis part of the riddle, Master Tick.” She winked at him. “There you are, I’ve just given you my own bit of a clue. Quite clever, I am.”

“Yeah,” Rutger grumbled. “A regular Hans Schtiggenschlubberheimer.”

Mothball snapped her fingers as her face brightened with recognition. “Ah, I remember that name now! Yeah, me dad taught my sis and me all about him, he did. That bloke invented the very first version of the Barrier Wand.”

Rutger shushed Mothball. “Are you crazy? I thought we were done giving out secrets the boy doesn’t need to know yet.”

Mothball shrugged as she winked at Tick again. “It’s got nothing to do with the clues, little man. Give the sir somethin’ to think about, it will.”

“Barrier Wand?” Tick had heard those words before from Mothball. “I won’t even bother asking.”

Rutger turned to Tick, rolling his eyes as he nodded toward Mothball, as if he were shrugging off the escapades of a little kid. “Solve the riddle of Master George, be where you’re supposed to be on the special day, do what you’re supposed to do, go where you’re supposed to go—then you’ll know very well what a Barrier Wand is, trust me.”