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."

That "probably" was not comforting.

~~~~

A person can devote all their time and energy to solving one problem, only to realise afterwards that they had forgotten about the other problems that needed to be solved. Solvej thought long and hard about how to give the answer to the parasite without making it suspicious. So far all her thinking had been in vain.

"I suppose we'll have to wait until the parasite demands an answer," she said to herself. "The week's almost over; it will ask for our answer soon."

This was hardly a satisfying conclusion, but it was the only one she could think of. But how were they to give the answer without letting the parasite know they already knew it? If Hjalmar simply said, "The answer is a shoe," even the parasite would know something was wrong. It had chosen that answer because it was something no one was likely to think of, after all.

"Why is it," she said aloud, "that every time I solve a problem, another one takes its place?"

She received no answer. The ghost shrugged and looked at the clock. Six o'clock. The palace's inhabitants were only starting to wake up and go about their daily business. Hjalmar wouldn't be awake for at least another hour and a half. She might as well spend the time practicing her magic.

~~~~

Hjalmar woke to the uncomfortable feeling that he was forgetting something important. At first he dismissed it as the memory of a nightmare. But the feeling lingered as he got dressed and went down to breakfast. It felt like a heavy weight pressing down on his shoulders. It felt much more serious than the aftereffects of a nightmare.

What have I forgotten? he asked himself repeatedly as he walked towards the small dining room where he and Solvej had their breakfasts. Have I missed paying a bill? Is it someone's birthday? Should I have written to Mother?

He winced at that last thought. He had forgotten to write to his mother, though he doubted that was what was bothering him. She was bound to wonder what was happening to him.

As soon as I've finished breakfast, I'll write her a whole essay, he thought.

He pushed open the door to the dining room to find Solvej pouring herself a cup of coffee. Seeing her made him remember what he had forgotten.

"We know the answer!" he exclaimed.

Solvej choked on her coffee. "Good morning to you too," she said when she stopped coughing. "Do you have to shout it to the world like that? The parasite might hear you?"

Hjalmar shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Sorry."

"I've been thinking," Solvej said as he sat down at the table.

"About what?" he asked, then felt the urge to facepalm. "Oh, about how to answer the riddle."

Solvej poured herself more coffee and buttered another slice of toast. She seemed to be in no hurry to continue. Hjalmar pushed his cereal around his bowl with his spoon, waiting for her to speak.

"Well?" he said after several minutes of silence. "What do you think?"

The ghost sighed. "That we'll have to wait until the week's up."

Hjalmar did some mental calculations. "That's... the day after tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yes. But what will the parasite do in those two days? Worse, what will the Magician do?"

"Wait for the answer, I suppose," Hjalmar said. "What else can they do?"

Solvej pursed her lips. "That's what worries me."

~~~~

The next day was remarkably peaceful. The sun was shining and the sky was mostly cloudless. The air was chilly, but a coat and hat solved that problem. Hjalmar spent the day wandering around the part of the gardens furthest away from the palace. He thought the Grand Duchess would be unlikely to look for him there.

A day spent getting lost among flowerbeds and greenhouses might sound rather dull. But when compared to the prospect of a day spent being tortured -- er, tutored -- by the Grand Duchess... Well, Hjalmar thought that walking in circles until he found a gardener who could point him back towards the palace was still more enjoyable than that.

He only went back into the palace when the city's church bells rang for five o'clock.

When he first stepped through the side door, Hjalmar thought he was seeing things. It was simply not possible that Solvej and a collection of servant boys and girls were taking turns sliding down the banisters.

"Wheeeee!" Solvej squealed as she sailed down the banister, her hair flying out behind her like a comet's tail.

Hjalmar watched for a moment longer, his mouth hanging open. Then he turned on his heel and calmly walked back out the door. If he pretended he didn't see it, he reasoned, he wouldn't have to do anything about it.

~~~~

It took Hjalmar fifteen minutes to walk around to another side door, and another fifteen minutes to navigate the maze of hallways he found himself in. By then, he was hungry, tired, and feeling rather grumpy. The last thing he wanted was to round a corner and come face-to-face with Rigmor -- or with the parasite, as Solvej insisted on calling the... thing in Rigmor's body.

The parasite recoiled as if he had struck her. They studied each other for a long minute, both of them poised on the verge of fleeing. If Hjalmar had been less shocked by meeting her, he would have thought this was odd. Why would she be afraid of him?

As he stayed frozen in place, the parasite seemed to realise he posed no threat to her. Her face split into a smile that stretched wider than a human mouth could stretch, and showed more teeth than a human mouth could contain.

Hjalmar liked to think he was a relatively brave man. The sheer wrongness of that sight, however, made him want to run for his life.

"Well, look who it is." She kept grinning as she took a step forward, like a predator that scented blood. "My latest suitor."

"What do you want?" Hjalmar asked warily, taking a step back.

Her grin grew wider, impossible though that seemed. "Now, is that any way to speak to your fiancée?"

Where was Solvej when he needed her? Oh, right. She was busy turning a staircase into a play-park, while he was facing a cursed princess.

"What do you want?" he repeated, taking several more steps back.

For each step he retreated, the parasite advanced. Hjalmar found himself reminded of a cat that had cornered a mouse and hadn't yet decided if it would kill it quickly or play with it first.

"I wonder..." the parasite said in a curious, sing-song tone, "why are you still here? You must know it will mean your death. Why haven't you run as far away as you can? You might live a little longer if you did. Do you have such faith in the ghost? Don't you see that if she was any good as a witch, she wouldn't be a ghost in the first place?"

"I've heard all this before," Hjalmar said. He wished his voice didn't waver so much. "You don't have much imagination."

She scowled. Or rather, her eyebrows lowered and her lips pursed, but they moved as if she was some sort of puppet that changed its expression when a puppeteer pulled a string. The sight sent chills down Hjalmar's spine.

He risked taking his eyes off her long enough to glance behind him. Suits of armour lined the hall. Most of them held weapons of some sort -- swords, axes, spears. They probably weren't real weapons, but they might be good enough to frighten her away. Could he reach one of the suits of armour and take its weapon before she reached him?

The parasite took a step towards him, even though he hadn't moved. Hjalmar flinched. The parasite grinned again and continued to advance, slowly, one step at a time.

There was a time for standing one's ground. When one was face-to-face with one's friend under a curse, and when one had no idea what the curse would make said friend do... Well, this was not that time.

Hjalmar turned and ran.

~~~~

Solvej eyed the group of servant girls and boys gathered at the foot of the stairs.

"You'd better move aside," she shouted down to them, gripping the edges of the dustbin lid she was kneeling on.

After an hour of sliding down the banisters, the children and the ghost had decided to make some slight alterations to their game: sliding down the stairs on dustbin lids. Solvej was about to make the first trial run. She had cast a cushioning spell on the lid so that it wouldn't damage the stairs or injure the rider. The door opposite the staircase was open to allow the rider to glide out into the open yard. Everything was ready.

"Shall we start the countdown?" Grethe, the head cook's daughter, called up to Solvej once the children were safely out of the way.

"Yes," Solvej said. She tightened her grip on the edge of the lid.

"Ten, nine, eight..." the children began chanting.

When they reached one, Solvej pushed the lid off the top stair. She held on for dear life as she hurtled down the stairs, past the children, and out the door.

It was just a pity that Hjalmar appeared in the doorway just as she flew through it.

~~~~

The next few minutes were rather confused. Solvej received a dizzying blow to the head and chest that left black spots dancing before her eyes. There was a cry of pain from Hjalmar, and a scream of fright from the watching children.

The lid skidded across the yard before slowing to a halt. By now, Solvej had recovered from the shock enough to look round and realise three things. One, she had crashed right into Hjalmar and he was now sprawled on the ground behind her. Two, one of the children appeared to have fainted, while the others were crowded around Hjalmar. Three, the commotion had brought a group of kitchen staff running.

Oh dear. She would have some explaining to do.