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Silence.
“Do I need to say the names? Because I swear I can tell them to you, every last one of them.” He took a breath. “Pongo. Perdita. Patch. Lucky. Roly Poly. Freckles. Pepper…” When he had finished speaking, the mist once more congealed around the bridge. Carlos let out a sigh.
It hadn’t worked.
“Wait!” Mal said, pointing to the spot where the mists had congealed. “It’s doing something.” The gray mist parted, revealing a new section of the bridge, a piece that had not existed a moment ago.
The gargoyles cleared a path, and the four of them ran out onto it, hurrying to the newly formed edge, waiting for the next question.
“NEXT RIDDLE!” Mal demanded, just as a ferocious wind blew at them. Carlos was beginning to get the feeling the bridge had more than a few ways of getting rid of unwanted visitors. He swallowed.
They needed to hurry.
Or rather, he did.
“Carlossssssss. Next quessssssstion.”
He nodded.
“Like a rose in a blizzard
It blooms like a cut
A red smear
Her kiss is death,”
the gargoyles hissed in their eerie unison, turning to face them, claws raised. Their muscles flexed and their tails whipped, their forked tongues raking their fangs. It looked as if they might pounce at any moment.
Once again, the bridge began to shift beneath their feet.
“‘Her kiss is death,’” echoed Carlos. “It has to be about my mother. Is that the answer? Cruella De Vil?”
The bridge began to shake even harder.
Wrong answer.
“But it is about your mother!” said Evie, suddenly. “A rose in a blizzard, it blooms like a cut…her kiss…it’s about what color lipstick she wears! Cruella’s signature red!”
Carlos was dumbfounded. “It is?”
“A red smear—see? It means it’s something she puts on. Oh, I know what it is!” Evie said. “The answer is Cherries in the Snow! That has to be it; it’s been everywhere this season. I mean—judging from what’s been thrown away on the Dumpster barges.”
Mal rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you know that.”
The wind whipped up again, and the four of them locked hands, holding on to one another for support. They pressed their shoulders together, bracing themselves against the gale.
Evie cursed. “It’s not Cherries in the Snow? I could swear that was it. Red with a pinkish undertone. No, wait—wait—it didn’t have a pink undertone, it was darker. Redder. A ‘true red’—what did the magazines call it? Frost and Flame? No—Fire and Ice! That’s it! Cruella’s pout is made of Fire and Ice!”
The gargoyles paused, their eyes glowing. They stood in place as the mist once more congealed around the bridge, then thinned to reveal another new section.
Carlos relaxed. Jay whooped—and even Mal clapped Evie on the back as they advanced across the bridge.
One more answered question, and the way would be clear.
“Ask your last riddle!” Mal charged them.
The gargoyles looked crafty.
