Clues, Riddles, and Guesses for Treasure 219

I was just finishing polishing the googolplex windows of my house (man, is *that* a boring job), hoping to get some light through the near-infinite number of them, when i heard a small scratching, not unlike that made by a steel flea within a slightly battered matchbox. I turned around, and, lo and behold, lying on my nightstand was a steel flea within a slightly battered matchbox. I picked it up, and could tell at once that this was no mere Ursula.

"Phoebe!" I said. "At last! I joined Acka almost a month ago, and I was just waiting for you to come and share your wisdom with me!"

Phoebe looked at me with an expression, which, from any other entity, i would call baleful. I pressed on. "I have so many questions for you! I've heard how wise you are! I know you can help me! See, I submitted this cycle win CFJ, but Gretchold the Evil - errr... Slakko...err... umm... Fo... err... I guess e's Slakko again now... Well, whoever e is, e says that I need to do sine in radians. I'm right, aren't I? He says-"

Here Phoebe stopped me by merely lifting a leg and fixing me with a look of extreme scorn. "That doesn't matter. You're a moron. I don't care about that. There are bigger fish to fry. The reason I came was to talk about the treasure you buried."

I looked at her, almost at a loss for words. Here I was, expecting help with my cycle win, and Phoebe wanted to talk about some dumb treasure I had almost forgotten about. "You mean the one with the Sacred Chao and the Atlantean Statue and stuff, valued at over A$750?" I asked. Phoebe nodded. "What about it? I've already got this great map idea. I'll take the message 'Whoever posts the word Flubert without explanation three days in a row will find the treasure' and put it into hex. No one will ever guess that!" Phoebe didn't say anything, just looked at me, but I could tell she didn't approve. "How about the last player to post the word Flubert to a public forum?" She shook her head sadly. "Um, whoever can tell me the make and model of my bike?" I was getting flustered. Here I'd taken the time to make up all these nifty ideas for treasure maps, and Phoebe, the wisest entity in all of Ackanomic, didn't like them one bit. "How about you tell me what to do, Phoebe," I said. "You're wise." Phoebe cocked her head to one side, looked both directions, motioned me forward so she could whisper in my ear, and then said, in a very low voice, "Talk to Malaclypse."

I stood up. "Who's Malaclypse?" I said, a little loudly. Phoebe hissed for me to be quiet and motioned me back in. "He's an imaginary entity who doesn't exist...You can find him probably in the Magickal Land of Ckanth. There or the wilds. Talk to him. He'll give you the map and the fragments you need."

I looked at Phoebe. "I can get to the wilds, but what's this Magical Land of Ckanth? It sounds a little iffy to me."

Phoebe sighed, and a faraway look crossed her little flea face. "Ckanth is quite a place. Imagine if a hack writer made up a land filled with puns, but didn't bother to be self-consistent and changed things every book. Now imagine if the author had a smut-filled mind, mostly about younger girls and older men of different species. Now imagine if the target reader age dropped about six months per book. That's pretty much Ckanth."

"That sounds terrible!" I said. "Why would anyone want to go there?"

but at that point, there was a tremendous puff of smoke, and Phoebe and her matchbox were gone.