Lord Briffault grimaced as another portion of the army was swallowed by the ground. The genie floating above them was looking on with a sorrowful face. Perhaps it really was trying to help him with easy questions, but due to his lack of knowledge, he failed his men. “Please,” Lord Briffault said towards the small creature, “give us a proper riddle where we have to think about the answer, not a riddle that tests our knowledge.”

Mervin tilted his head. “Are you sure about that? I can do that if you really want me to.”

“Yes,” Lord Briffault said. With millions of soldiers, it’d be impossible for none of them to figure out a riddle. But questions pertaining to knowledge…, what if the genie asked something beyond mortal understanding? How is a watermelon a vegetable? It’s sweet and juicy! It has seeds! Only an expert in the field of watermelons would’ve been able to answer that question correctly, and none of his men were experts in raising watermelons. “Something that we can figure out if we put in enough time thinking about it.”

“If that’s the case…,” Mervin said and rubbed his chin. “Okay, I thought up an easy one for you.”

Lord Briffault nodded. “Thank you.”

Mervin cleared his throat. “Listen up because I’m only going to say this riddle once: When you pay attention to me, I appear quite slow. When your focus turns away, I may fly over your head. You can find me in the sands. You can find me in the sun and shadows. I don’t have hands, but with hands is how people normally catch me. What am I?”

“Now this is a proper riddle,” Lord Briffault said and smiled. “Let’s work together to figure it out, men. When you think up an answer, tell your squad leader. All the squad leaders will take the most common answer, or any answer that you think may be the right one, and tell me. Then I’ll report it to the genie.”

“Take your time,” Mervin said and sat down in the air with his legs crossed. “There’s no rush.”

After thirty minutes of clamoring and writing down answers in the ground, Lord Briffault stared at the words before his feet. There was no doubt about it. “Genie king, I have the answer.”

Mervin yawned and stood up. He cracked his neck by twisted his head and nodded. “About time,” he said. “It’s really so simple. You didn’t have to spend so long on it, you know?”

“About time indeed,” Lord Briffault said and smiled. “The answer, is time!”

“Hooray!” Mervin shouted and threw his hands into the air. “You did the impossible! You actually got the easiest riddle I had incorrect!”

Lord Briffault’s eyes bulged, nearly falling out of his head. “I-incorrect!? What do you mean incorrect!? When you pay attention to the time, it moves slower! When you don’t pay attention, it flies by. You can count the time as it passes with an hourglass. A sundial uses the sun and shadows to tell the time. But you and I can both agree that the most common way to tell time is with a clock! Time may not have hands, but a clock has a second hand and a minute hand. If time isn’t the answer, then what is it!?”

Mervin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “A duck.”

“A…, a duck,” Lord Briffault said and lowered his head. “A duck. I see. It’s a duck. Truly, I’ve never once thought a duck was fast. And—”

“Sir,” Ralph said, interrupting the commander of the archer’s train of thought. “I think the genie is messing with us.” Soldiers screamed as they were skewered by earthen spears and dragged into the ground. “If we answered with a duck, the genie would’ve said the answer was time. There are no ways to win. You have to remember, genies are excellent at twisting one’s words to ruin a wish.”

Lord Briffault raised his head and glared at Mervin. “Is this true?”

“Uh…, no?” Mervin asked. “Really, what do you expect me to say in this situation? You’re asking me if I’m fooling a group of millions of people when millions of you can shoot me down with arrows or magic. Of course I’ll say no. But I promise you that I always have an answer in mind before I compose the riddle. Speaking of which, would you like to hear the next one?”

Lord Briffault looked around. A quarter of the army had disappeared without a fight. “Everyone, on your feet! Is there an archer or magician here who hasn’t had any children?”

At least a thousand people raised their hands.

Lord Briffault nodded. “Shoot that genie down! No curse of misfortune can befall your lineage if you don’t have any. I should’ve ordered this from the start.”

“Oh boy,” Mervin said and swallowed his saliva. “People who can’t solve simple riddles about ducks always resort to violence.” He cleared his throat and waved at the army. “Since that’s how it is, goodbye!” As he flew away, his voice trailed behind him, “You could’ve avoided a disaster if you just solved a riddle, but no, you had to get violent.”

Lord Briffault nodded and looked around again. “Why did we even stop in the first place? There was nothing keeping us here!”

“Sir.”

“What is it, soldier?” Lord Briffault asked Ralph. “You did good work once again.”

“Your hands are black, sir,” Ralph said and pointed.

Lord Briffault looked down. “So they are,” he said and furrowed his brow. “Why?” As a blood person, he should’ve been completely red. And it seemed like the darkness was spreading, crawling up his wrists. “Is this the curse of the genie?”

“Maybe it’s the punishment for failing to solve the genie’s riddle,” Ralph said and scratched his head. “I was sure he was just tricking us.”

Lord Briffault groaned as his hands moved, grabbing his bow and arrow. “My arms, they’re moving on their own,” he said, beads of red sweat falling off of his face. His hands nocked an arrow and pointed it at the army. “Move out of the way! Someone stop me!”

Ralph tackled Lord Briffault, bringing the commander to the ground. “Oh, that’s not good,” Ralph said and swallowed. His hand had touched the commander’s arm, and now his pinky was turning a noticeably darker shade of red. “Maybe we shouldn’t have threatened the genie.”