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hadn't even needed to strip all the way. She had gone far enough to make her point, and that had been enough.
        She breathed a silent sigh of relief and put her shirt back on, and her shoes. Then she walked on across the moat. She had won a small victory; still, she wished she could have a body that was stunning when bared, instead of comical.
        The drawbridge ended at a large drooping tree. No, not exactly a tree; a portcullis whose metallic spikes resembled branches. Maybe a gate decorated to resemble a tree. Whatever it was, it blocked the way; she could see between the bars to a hall leading into the castle. This was obviously the second Challenge.
        The portcullis looked too heavy to lift clear, but assumptions were risky, so she put her hands on two of the bars and heaved upward. They did not budge. “Darn!”
        “You swore at me!” a female voice cried, and water dripped down the branches.
        Startled, Cube stepped back and looked up. There was a face in the upper foliage, vaguely human, but much larger than any person. A woman's countenance, with flowing green hair and huge liquid eyes.
        “You're a person!” Cube exclaimed, astonished.
        “I'm a willow tree,” the face replied. “Forced to remain here unhappily until I am able to smile. Only then will I be freed from this horrible bondage.”
        “You're not here by choice? That's awful.”
        “It's unbearably sad,” the tree agreed, and tears fairly cascaded from her eyes, wetting the rest of her substance like falling rain. “It makes me so unhappy that I know I'll never be free.”
        “I wish I could make you happy,” Cube said.
        “Well, there is one way.”
        “What is that?”
        “Take my place.”
        Cube recoiled. She was not about to fall into this trap! “You're here as a Challenge I have to pass. I'm not supposed to do your job, I'm supposed to get by you.”
        “Oooo!” the face wailed, and the tears flowed so copiously that they started to pool on the floor.
        Cube felt sorry for the weeping willow, but her sympathy was tempered by her knowledge that the tree's fate was not permanent. She was surely serving her year for an Answer. The tears were probably fake.
        Still, it was a Challenge. She had to find a way past this unhappy barrier. The tree had told her that she would be free once she was able to smile, so the challenge might be to make her smile. But how could she do that? The tree would probably meet her every effort with a further deluge of tears.
        Well, she had to try. “Would you like a gift?”
        The flow eased. “A gift? What?”
        “A rear-view mirror.” Maybe when the willow got the pun, she would laugh, or at least let a smile out. Then she would depart, and the way would be clear.
        “But I look awful,” the tree protested. “Almost as bad as you do.”
        Cube could have done without that last remark. But she ignored it and brought out the mirror. “It will surprise you. Hold it up and take a look.”
        A branch creaked forward, with twigs like fingers. It took the mirror. The willow held it up before her expansive face. “But this is not my visage!”
        “Yes it is. It's your other side.”
        “Oh, my trunk. Now I understand. This is very nice.”
        “Your rear view.”
        “Yes. Thank you. You are so kind, I really hate to stop you from entering the castle.” The tears resumed.
        So much for humor. The pun had fallen entirely flat.
        Cube pondered. The first Challenge had been deceptive. There had been a seeming way through it, solving pun after pun, but that was not the real way. The real way was to comprehend its basic nature and address that.
        So what was the basic nature of this one? It seemed she had to make the weeping willow smile, but that might be impossible. Was there some other