Excerpt 1

She wore a long purple tunic, decorated with little stars, and seemed to get nearer to us the more we approached. In response to our oncoming curiosity, she got to her feet and began juggling five small bread rolls, causing crumbs to fly everywhere. A hat was laid out in front of her, which displayed pennies and croutons, and as we stopped to observe her performance, she went on to include some bagel spinning while balancing a baguette on her chin.

    We applauded, and she took a bow. Searching our pockets, we were ashamed to find the closest things we had to coins were Merv’s radish seeds. Noticing our embarrassment, the juggler only grinned.

    "If I wanted money, I’d juggle near crowds of people with jangly pockets. Not out here in the desert.”

    She sighed, serenely.

    “See, what I really want to earn are questions! The delightful scuba divers always come up with the most marvellous questions whenever I juggle for them."

    "Then you’re in luck," said Loomy, "we do have a very good question for you. Where are we?"

    The juggler savoured our question, like a fine wine. "What an exquisite question!" she chuckled with glee. "So elegantly expressed, so deliciously sublime in its simplicity."

    We began to blush.

    "It must’ve taken much pondering to come up with such a fine, profound question. Oh, how I applaud your dedication to the art of enquiry!"

    "Well, the question came quite naturally," said Loomy. "We're rather lost, you see."

    The juggler’s eyes lit up. “I was once lost in the mountains for five days. But the only question I could come up with by the end was: why didn't I bring a map?"

     "And did you receive an answer?"

    "I did indeed. I was eventually rescued by a helicopter. The pilot gave me some chocolate and a choice of three answers!"

    "A choice?" Loomy asked, perplexed.

    "He was a kind man who owned many answers. It took me the whole journey back home to choose, but I finally settled on, 'because the owls had eaten them'." And she chuckled with nostalgia.

    "Very interesting," frowned Merv. "But we are hoping to find an answer of our own. Preferably one that fits our question."

    "Can’t you help us?” Loomy asked. “Don’t you have an answer?” 

    "Oh my, you’re so generous with your questions,” the juggler cried. “Sadly, as far as answers are concerned, I’m completely broke. All my answers were stolen, a couple of nights ago. I awoke to see thieves running away from my tent with some of my most treasured answers. There was nothing I could do.”

    She gazed out to the horizon, sighing. “They all wore aprons and left behind a terrible stink of garlic.”

    Her gaze returned to us, and her eyebrow climbed higher up her forehead.

    “But I can offer you a question in return,” she smiled. “When you find your answer, what would you do with it?"

    This one left us even more baffled. Merv imagined himself in many years to come, taking it down from the mantelpiece to show his grandchildren. Granny imagined giving people a guided tour, welcoming strangers and helping them begin a new life. Yarg imagined himself as a wise man, guiding the next generation of lost souls to their destinations.

    Loomy spoke. "I suppose we'd use it to find our way home."

    "Not everyone treats their answers well, you see," said the juggler sadly. "I once knew some scientists who had so many questions. They loved the questions so much that they set them free, threw them out into the world, allowed them to be heard by anyone. But the answers they got in return were not so fortunate. They'd lock them up, hide them, scrutinise them, frustrated that they did not quench their longing for knowledge.”

    She inhaled, slowly. “Answers need space to breathe, you see, just like questions. And for a question as fine as yours, I wouldn't expect to find an answer without a good search. And if I were you, my search would continue that way."

    She pointed to a small path across the dunes, where tiny footprints ushered our attention. Beyond them, the mountains awaited our confusion like pillars of intrigue.

    “Some of the Vague Ones take their questions on pilgrimages. The ones who stop to watch my juggling believe in a place beyond the mountains. A city, where the streets are paved with answers, so they say. If such a place is real, then that’s where you should take your question.”

    Merv suddenly seemed impatient.

    "Come on then," he called, striding off with vigour. "Our answer’s out there, waiting for us."

    We bade farewell to the juggler, who began juggling some doughnuts - a feat much more difficult that it looked, she told us, because they were so sticky!

Excerpt 2

The winding path led to some foothills, and the foothills became bleak moors; then, as clouds began to form in the sky, we came upon a signpost which read BEWARE!

    “I’m not scared,” said Merv, leading us on intrepidly.

    The clouds grew darker, and the nearby trees began to shudder with a soft wind. However, this was the least of our worries. None of us had the courage to turn, not even when Yarg heard the soft plodding of hooves on the grass. It wasn’t until we came across another signpost, which read BEHIND YOU, did we reluctantly swerve around, and we were startled to confront a large, fearsome moose.

    The creature’s gaze was piercing, and it’s fur was thicker than whatever it was Yarg had just stood in. The poor boy stood in terror, then went to hide behind Granny. She then hid behind Loomy, and Loomy hid behind Merv, who, with his fearsome moustache and backpack full of gardening tools, seemed the most likely means of defence. Merv mustered his courage and stepped forwards, although his bushy moustache was no match for the majestic antlers which sprouted like upturned claws from the creature’s head, either side of a quaint little bobble hat. However, I presumed he knew what he was doing, having chased wild animals out of his garden to protect his cabbages.

    "Excuse me," Merv said, bravely. "Do you have a reason for following us?"

    The moose thought for a moment, then responded calmly.

    "No, I don’t."

    Merv frowned. "If you don't have a reason, then I forbid you from following us. We’re on a serious investigation and we only allow those who have reasons to follow us."

    Merv folded his arms, but the moose stared coldly at him. We waited, hoping the creature would leave us alone.

    "I may not have a reason to follow you," the moose said. "But do you have a reason to be followed?"

    Merv looked anxious and we all began to wonder. Not one of us could come up with a good reason.

    "I take it you don’t," said the moose, disappointed, and we all felt suddenly guilty.

    "Perhaps we could find a reason," Merv suggested, hopelessly.

    "Don't bother," sighed the moose. "I’ll follow someone else."

    And the peculiar animal waddled away through the grass, leaving us abandoned and feeling rather sorry for ourselves.

    "Ah," lamented Yarg, "if only we were worth following." Yarg had always wanted a follower.

    Loomy began wondering. “That moose seems quite at home in these hills. Maybe he can help us?”

    So we ran to catch up with the moose, and this time Merv let Loomy do the talking. As we approached, an amused face turned to us, grinning.

    “Have you come up with a reason?”

    “Yes," wheezed Loomy. "But it's a reason to follow you instead. You see, we were out gallivanting, but we keep getting more and more lost. Can you tell us where we are?”

    “Hmm,” the moose replied, “well, I haven’t a clue where you are."

    The creature looked around, thought for a moment, then smirked.

    “But I know where I am. Shall I show you?”

    “Is it close?” asked Loomy.

    “Not far away.” Noticing our nervousness, the creature bowed its head low, then said, in a softer voice, “Don’t be afraid of these antlers. I only wear them to frighten the squirrels.”

    We inspected the moose’s head, and saw the fearsome antlers were nothing but old branches, carved carefully and stuck to either side of the hat with superglue.

    “You’re a lady-moose!” gasped Loomy, relaxing a little.

    “I am,” the moose smiled, although with a hint of melancholy. “My mother always wanted a boy. Not that it matters now, but still, it amuses me to pretend, especially when strangers are out walking the hills.” The moose crouched down. “Now, climb up onto my back and I’ll show you where I am!”

    Once we’d made ourselves comfortable on her back, the moose trotted off upriver, which was strange because there were no rivers in sight. But this didn't bother us. We were just grateful for the ride, after travelling on foot through the desert.