Guess algebra class was good for something after all, you think.

If two tomatoes are equal to an apple, then two pears are equal to three tomatoes and an apple, or five tomatoes. Thus, one pear is worth two and a half tomatoes.

So if three pears, two apples, and one tomato are equal to 25 bits, that comes out to...seven and a half plus four plus one equals to twelve and a half tomatoes for 25 bits, or 2 bits for a tomato. Thus…

“Four bits,” you tell the knocker, feeling a bit foolish despite yourself.

The glow in the brass raven’s eyes fades away and the door unlocks with a click. You hesitate for a moment, then push the door open with a slow creak and enter. The room on the other side is dark and silent, prompting you to pull your flashlight out of your pocket and flick it on.

You find yourself in a large single room with a wooden floor. A great table sits in the center of the room, surrounded by several cushioned chairs. Several unlit candles are mounted on the table, all of them faintly smoking. A stone fireplace sits in the corner of the room, smoke rising from the ashen logs. All the windows are covered in curtains. To your complete surprise, there is no sign of anypony inside. Other than the creaking of the floorboards beneath your hooves, the lodge is completely silent.

Maybe this whole thing was a wild goose chase? But the smoke rising from the dripping candles and burnt logs in the fireplace proves that somepony was here recently. Where did everypony go?

Your flash falls upons the chair at the head of the table. The chair has exceptionally long legs, so tall that the seat almost reaches the table. Laying on the floor to the right of the chair is a small pile of ashes and three long, wooden matches. A sheet of paper is sitting on the table in front of the chair. You spin it around to read.

“Discuss:
—Idea Spark
—Detective: what can we do with them?
What if they call their friends?
Or the City Guard?
Need to consider alibis!”

A chill runs up your spine. “Detective” can only refer to one pony. And City Guard, alibis...none of that bodes well.

There’s an old rust-covered key sitting on the table. Without knowing quite why, you pick it up and put it in your pocket.

The sound of a wolf howling suddenly pierces the night air, causing you to jump, your heart leaping into your throat. It’s at this point that you suddenly remember that not only are you in the headquarters of a secret society that may have been involved in dozens of disappearances, you’re up in the middle of the woods long after dark.

You cross the room in three strides and push the door open, exiting the cabin. The wind seems to have picked up, and the leaves and branches of the trees around you whistle and creak, providing a constant soundtrack to your terror. Shivering, you hurry over to where you parked your bike, checking every shadow three times along your way. Stowing the flashlight in your pocket and plunging yourself down into darkness, you swing your legs over the bike and strike at the kickstarter.

The engine grumbles, but does not start. “Come on, come on…” you whisper, ramming your hoof down onto the kickstarter. The bike whines in protest, but refuses to start.

Suddenly, a bright light pierces the dark, blinding you. You tumble off the bike, screeching out a startled curse.

“Detective, there you are!” a voice calls out happily. You look up to see Sheriff Hawkdive approaching, a flashlight held in his pale blue magical grip and a smile on his face.

“Been looking for you,” he says, helping you back to your hooves. “Turtledove saw you driving off and when you didn’t come back, she got worried and sent me looking for you. What’re you doing up here?”

It takes a few seconds for your heart rate to climb back down from the stratosphere, allowing you to speak. “Following a lead on Idea’s disappearance,” you answer.

“Up here?” Hawkdive raises an eyebrow. “We already checked this place, there wasn’t anything.”

“But somepony was up here earlier,” you declare. “When I came up, the candles had been lit and there had been a fire in the fireplace.”

Hawkdive raises an eyebrow. “Ponies use this lodge for recreational purposes. Some of the villagers like to come up here from time to time and stay up here for a few days, just to get away for a while.”

“In a single-room cabin that you have to solve a riddle in order to access?” you ask.

“This lodge was built by Blackfeather Quill,” Hawkdive explains. “He thought the enchanted knocker was a novelty.” He chuckles softly. “What did you expect to find up here? The Court of Ravens?”

You blink. “But—”

“Detective, the Court of Ravens is just a bedtime story around here,” Hawkdive says. “There are no secret societies, and you’ve been following a trail of red herrings.”

Another wolf howls in the dark distance, closer this time. “It’s time you headed back to your hotel,” Hawkdive says, glancing around. “These woods aren’t safe at night.” He turns and walks back to a squat ATV that sits idling behind him.

You hesitate for a moment, glancing back at the dark lodge behind you, then climb back onto your bike. This time, the engine responds to your striking at the kickstarter; the patient grumbling of the engine and the bright light from the headlights piercing the darkness gives you some level of relief. Turning the bike around, you follow Hawkdive back down from the mountain.

Hawkdive escorts you back to the Raven’s Nest, watching as you park the bike on the curb and shut off the engine.

“I’d suggest you turn in, detective,” Hawkdive tells you, watching you over his shoulder. “It’s been a long night, and you’re going to need your rest for tomorrow morning.”

You look up and down the street. The only lights are the flickering oil streetlamps, which seem puny compared to the great darkness that has descended upon the village. All the windows are dim; even the stars appear to have fled the sky above you.

“And you’d best stay in your room tonight, detective,” Hawkdive adds, a sudden cold edge added to his voice. “The woods aren’t the only place that isn’t safe at night.” He gives you a brief nod, then drives his ATV away, disappearing around another corner.

You hesitate for a moment longer, then walk back inside the Nest. The lobby is dark, the only light coming from the fireplace in the corner that casts the room in an ominous mixture of orange glows and shivering shadows. A quiet snoring comes from the room behind the counter, telling you that Turtledove must be in her bed.

You walk up the stairs to the second floor and start down the hallway towards your room. The animals on the tiles along the wall all seem to stare at you as pass by. Judging you, or warning you?

You enter your room and sit down on the bed, considering what little you learned. The most important thing is this: Sheriff Hawkdive is definitely not on your side.

But what of the Court of Ravens? The idea of a secret society obsessed with riddles operating out here in a remote village being responsible for dozens of kidnappings, including Idea Spark, does seem pretty unbelievable. All the clues you found could simply be a trail of breadcrumbs, or red herrings. But if somepony is trying to lead you down a false trail, what is the goal? And what if the Court is real?

You feel a weight slap against your leg and extract the old, rusty key from your pocket. Another breadcrumb. What is this for?

CRASH!

You leap off the bed and whirl around to see that your window has been smashed open, the curtains dancing in the wind that is now allowed to swirl in through the smashed glass. A brick lays on the floor amidst the shards. A note is tied to the brick. You undo the cord and unfold the paper.

Written on the sheet is a message in an angry scrawl that makes it seem like the paper itself is screaming at you: “LEAVE RAVEN HOLLOW!”

The door bursts open and Turtledove rushes in. “Detective! What happened? Are you all right?” she cries.

“I’m okay,” you reply, holding up the paper. “But someone thinks I’m wearing out my welcome.”

Turtledove gasps when she sees the threatening message. “Who did this?”

You look out the window at the empty alleyway below. “Well, they can’t have gotten far.” Swinging your coat over your shoulders, you quickly descend the stairs and exit out the back door.

The night seems to have gotten colder and darker in the past few minutes. Walking around to the back of the Nest, you start scanning the alleyway with your flashlight, looking for any sign of a brick-throwing pony. But aside from some dumpsters and litter blowing by in the wind, the little street is empty. With a sigh, you turn to go back inside and stumble over something.

The thing you trip over moves and grunts. “Whoozat?”

You recognize the voice. “Sunrise?” you ask, turning around.

Sunrise Glow blinks up at you. “Detective.” He shakes his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have stayed. You should’ve left.”

“Somepony threw a brick through my window. Did you see anypony here in the past couple minutes?” you ask him, crouching down to his eye level.

Sunrise’s eyes widens and he looks away, slowly rocking back and forth. “Ravens,” he mumbles.

“Ravens. Th-the Court of Ravens?” you sputter. “But they’re just a myth…”

“No, not a myth,” Sunrise states, shaking his head. He looks up at you. “I knew Idea Spark. He stayed here. Good pony. Treated me well. He didn’t…” He winces. “Didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

“What did happen to him?” you ask.

Sunrise cringes and slaps his head with his hoof a few times. “No, can’t tell, can’t tell…” Suddenly, he notices something on the ground; the rusty key from the lodge fell out of your pocket.

“Where did you get that?” he whispers. “Did you go up to the lodge?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yeah,” you nod slowly.

Sunrise blinks sadly. “You shouldn’t have taken it.”

“Sunrise, I’m trying to find Idea Spark,” you tell him. “His wife is back in Chicoltgo, and she’s worried sick about him. Please, if you know anything about what happened to him, you need to tell me.”

Sunrise licks his lips, rocking back and forth as though in distress. His oak brown eyes, no longer shaking and jittering like they were before, are focused on the key.

“I know where that key goes,” he finally mutters.

“Where?”

Sunrise lets out a long, low groan, as though he’s trying to say something but the words won’t come out of his mouth. He starts slapping his head with his hoof again. “Riddles, riddles, head’s full of them, riddles…”

"Hey, hey, hey,” you call, grabbing his shoulders. “Sunrise, you need to tell me.”

Sunrise stares up at you with the desperate look of a pony on the edge of a canyon, about to leap. He licks his lips and speaks.

“Wednesday, Jane and Ginny went to the Waxwing Diner for dinner. They ate and left, leaving the bill paid with a generous tip. But Jane and Ginny did not pay a cent. Who did?

“Mary’s father has four children. Three are named Nana, Nene, and Nini. What is the fourth child’s name?

“It is always to come, but it never arrives.

“It is a five letter word that becomes shorter when you add two letters to it."

You stare at him in confusion. “Riddles for riddles,” Sunrise mumbles. “Answer me these, and I’ll answer you that.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” you sigh.

Solve all four riddles.

Author's Note

Things are starting to get intense; clearly, somepony doesn't want you to find Idea Spark. But where's this trail leading you?

You'll have to solve these riddles to find out.

No clues this week, unfortunately. You're on your own here.

Congratulations to Everfree Pony, Magic Step, The Villain in Glasses, and themouthofmush for solving last week's puzzle. Good look solving these riddles!