Page 43 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
“Okay, Bayard.” Exandra’s face became a mask of calm as she slipped into professional mode. “Here are the facts. If the hot springs pressure breaches the caves and makes the temperature rise too high, the cultures will become contaminated and you know what that means…”
Bayard finished her thought.
“No Queso Luna for the Yule celebration. No midnight revelations and shared joy for the villagers. Exactly what someone like the Culture Vulture wants!”
They stared at each other, fear and determination mixing.
“We’re not going to let that happen,” Bayard said, rising to his feet again.
“We need to solve these puzzles,” Exandra said. “Fast.”
The first puzzlerevealed itself immediately: a section of the wall slid aside, revealing a message chalked into the stone:
ONLY STRENGTH CAN MOVE WHAT TIME HAS SET. FIND THE MARKED WHEELS AND PLACE THEM IN ORDER OF AGE.
Exandra looked around. Four massive cheese wheels sat on a platform, each easily fifty pounds. Above them, four empty shelves were each marked with a year: 1847, 1923, 1965, 2001.
“The wheels must have the dates somewhere,” Bayard said, moving closer. “But they’re on the bottom. We have to lift them to see.”
Exandra cracked her knuckles. “That, I can do.”
She lifted the first wheel—heavy even for her considerable strength—and turned it so Bayard could see the carved date on the bottom.
“1965!”
She placed it on the corresponding shelf. Then the next: 2001. Then 1923. Finally, 1847.
A grinding sound, and a door opened in the far wall.
55:27 remaining.
They rushed through into the next chamber. This one was filled with bottles of various liquids, each labeled with handwritten specimen labels with Latin inscriptions. A whiteboard on the wall displayed a question:
WHICH THREE CULTURES ARE REQUIRED FOR AUTHENTIC QUESO LUNA? SELECT CORRECTLY OR PREPARE FOR THE MELTDOWN.
“This is your specialty,” Exandra said. She held up her hands. “It’s all you.”
Bayard studied the bottles, his mind racing. Queso Luna. Fresh goat cheese. What cultures would they use?
“Lactococcus lactis,” he murmured. “Definitely. AndLeuconostoc mesenteroidesfor the texture. And...” He examined the other options. “Lactobacillus rhamnosus. Those three.”
He selected the bottles and placed them on the tray on the counter. They waited a moment, Bayard afraid he’d chosen wrong.
Another grinding sound. Another door.
49:23 remaining.
The third chamber contained what looked like a large wooden cutting board mounted on the wall, its surface covered in carvedsymbols and patterns. Cheese wheels marked with matching symbols sat on a nearby table.
DECODE THE PATTERN. PLACE THE WHEELS IN THE CORRECT SEQUENCE TO CLEAR THE PATH FORWARD.
“It’s a cipher,” Bayard said, excitement cutting through his fear. “Look here: These symbols correspond to traditional cheesemaking marks. Each one represents a stage of production.”
“Can you read it?” Exandra asked.
“I think so. This one—” He pointed to a symbol. “—represents the curdling stage. And this one is pressing. This is aging. This is...” He worked through the logic, his fingers tracing the patterns. “They need to be arranged in the order of production. Curdling, cutting, pressing, salting, aging, wrapping.”
They worked together, Exandra lifting the heavy wheels while Bayard directed placement. When the final wheel clicked into place, a hidden panel slid aside, revealing a narrow passage.
