The Scholar, the Sphinx and the Shades of Nyx

by A. R. Cook

  David took a long look at the woman, before giving her a gentle smile. “Hello,” was all he could think to say.

  She walked to him, and sat down at his side. She gazed deeply into his eyes, and as David gazed back, he could make out that the green of her eyes had a ring of gold around them, and the gold glimmered like sunlight passing through crystal.

  “How did I get here?” he inquired.

  You brought yourself here. This is your ideal place.

  Her voice was crisp and clear, but she had not moved her lips to reply. The voice was inside David’s head.

  He sat up quickly, frightened by how real this dream was, and of what the sphinx might be doing to him while he was distracted by this illusion.

  She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. There is no need to be worried. It is time for us to know each other better. I want to talk.

  “Talk is fine … just please don’t … uh … you’re not doing anything strange while I’m sleeping, are you?”

  No, you need not fear. I chose this form because it calms humans and makes them feel less intimidated.

  “Ah.” A question popped into his mind, but the sphinx answered it before he could verbally ask.

  Yes, a sphinx is normally able to speak as you humans do. But time has changed things. This is the only way I can communicate without … risking my health.

  “Risking your health? How—”

  She sharply cut him off. I don’t wish to discuss it. Her tone softened again as she said, I wish to discuss you. To know who you are, what you like, what you are thinking.

  David gave the woman another good look-over. “The way you look reminds me of someone I knew once, back in Cervera. But that was a long time ago. She went far away, and I never heard from her again. She probably doesn’t remember me now, I don’t think.” He dismissed the memory quickly, reburying it in his past.

  You humans make your lives so sad sometimes, because of fear.

  “I don’t see why you want to ‘talk’ like this. I take it you could just read my mind and know everything about me that you want to know?”

  Perhaps. But there’s no trust in that. I want you to trust me, David.

  “Why?”

  Because I want you to stay with me. I cannot force you to remain here, for you are more strong-minded than most. I’m using my abilities at their highest extent to create this reality for you.

  David sat up again, brushing his fingers through the grass. “But it’s not real. It’s just an illusion.”

  What is real is only what you can understand with your five senses. But if I breathe life into what you see, and hear, and taste, and touch … She placed a hand on his knee. And smell… She blew a soft breeze of lilac towards him. Then this place is just as real as any other.

  David stared into her eyes. “But I know it’s not real.”

  Why is that so important? Isn’t this your ideal place? Do you not like my appearance?

  The last sentence she said startled him. Did she want him to think she was beautiful? “It doesn’t matter. It’s simply knowing. It’s knowing that outside all these beautiful things, I’m still prisoner to an animal who has me under her spell. It’s knowing that I’m not free.”

  I gave you the chance to be free of me. You came back.

  “I had to! I don’t have a choice when I’m out in the middle of nowhere, being attacked by bloodthirsty puppets, and my only way of getting back to civilization is to ride this nightmare train.” David stood up and walked a few feet away.

  Am I so awful to you, David? he heard her ask. He cringed slightly as she said his name. He couldn’t help but think it was the loveliest way he had ever heard his name spoken.

  “It doesn’t seem fair you should know my name, and I don’t know yours,” he noted.

  You know my name. I am a Sphinx.

  “I mean, your real name, not your species. You don’t call me Human, after all.”

  I was never given a name of that type. I have always been a Sphinx.

  “Then what do others call you? Surely your family gave you a name.”

  No. My earliest ancestor was born of the Typhoon and the Great Drakaina. I and my kind have always been called the creatures that we are. What would you call me?

  He stood silently for a while.

  “I want to wake up now,” he replied.

  The caravan train came to a sudden halt.

  David woke up abruptly as the wagon came to a stop. The sphinx was curled up next to him, and she slowly opened her eyes. She stretched her muscles and yawned, her lips pulling back again in that wide frightening gape. David still had not gotten used to it. Yet she did look much better, her skin having returned to its golden hue and her lips no longer cracked. She sighed contentedly.

  David pressed his ear to the wall of the wagon. He heard the gypsies scurrying around outside, and the sound of instruments being tuned.

  “What are they up to out there?” he wondered. He unlatched the hooks holding the wagon wall closed. He paused, glancing back at the sphinx. She smiled at him, and motioned with her paw that he could go outside.

  David lowered the wall and stepped outside. The gypsies were donning their performance outfits, tuning their instruments and readying their wares. Gullin was already practicing a warm-up routine with his torches, when he spotted David.

  “Hey there, boyo! Time for another day’s work. Here, make yourself useful.” Gullin picked up an empty bucket and tossed it at David. “Think you can fetch a little water?”

  David was piqued, as he had never consented to be Gullin’s lackey. Yet there wasn’t much else to do, and it did give him a reason to have some time away from the sphinx. It then dawned on him that there was no source of water nearby. In fact, nothing was nearby. Looking around, a great enclosure of cloudy whiteness surrounded them, and the ground beneath them was flat, grassless earth. He felt like he was in the middle of a giant wad of cotton.

  “What water?” he demanded to know.

  “Just walk a ways off there,” Gullin replied, pointing towards the fog. “But not too far. Don’t want you getting lost again.”

  With a sigh, David walked a few paces, finding that even in the short distance he traveled, the caravan was already fading from view. He walked a little farther, but nothing changed. He paused, remembering how it had been a similar fog that had led him to the Jenglots’ trap, and he certainly didn’t want to stumble upon anything else by himself. He turned around and went back.

  He walked over to the juggler. “Gullin, I don’t feel so—”

  “Thanks,” Gullin replied, taking the bucket back, which was now full of crystal clean water. “Just in case anything goes wrong with my act, be ready to douse me, will you?”

  David gawked at the full bucket. “But … how … I didn’t see any …”

  Gullin snickered. “That ain’t the most surprising thing you’re going to see tonight, boyo.”

  The same three painted wagons that the gypsies had taken into Orléans for their public performance were hitched up to the white horses, and the gypsy parade began through the fog. David hesitated, wondering whether to follow them or stay behind with the rest of the caravan train. He did wonder exactly where the procession was going, and while the thought of whatever lay ahead in the fog worried him, he was more worried about being alone with the sphinx. This, however, turned out not to be an issue, for the sphinx had left her nest and had come to stand next to him. She stood up on her hind legs, but not in the awkward way dogs or cats might do it, but naturally like a human. A white skirt wrap was tied around her waist to match her chest scarf, adding to the illusion of her seeming more human than animal. She curled her tail around David’s waist and led him along, tailing after the parade.

  She’s coming too? He wondered silently. In what kind of place are we that she is not afraid of revealing herself?

  The fog thickened, so much so that David eventually could not see the train of wagons or people in front of
them. He could barely see his hand in front of his face. But the sphinx kept leading him on unwaveringly. The same deathly quiet he had experienced in The Poppet’s Pub was around him. He gulped, deciding to fill the silence a bit.

  “You know, I’ve been trying to think of a name for you,” he said.

  The sphinx said nothing.

  “Would you like a name?”

  Her tail squeezed his waist a little, which David took to mean yes.

  “Well, I was thinking … I heard you like Egyptian flowers, which I guess makes sense since I’ve read a few stories about sphinxes that lived in Egypt. There’s a flower that grows in Egypt called an acacia, and it can be golden in color like you are. I think Acacia would be a good name for you.”

  The sphinx was quiet for a minute, but then she nuzzled her head on his shoulder and purred softly.

  He took that to mean she liked it.

  The fog suddenly parted, and a waterfall of glimmering multicolored lights rose before them. There were soft, tinkling voices all around, like children laughing and singing. Fuzzy orbs of light floated through the air, alighting on each person’s head or nose. One gentle green light kissed David’s cheek, and he instinctively swatted at it. Acacia grabbed his hand and gave him a stern look, shaking her head.

  “What are they?” he asked, even though he knew she couldn’t give him a direct answer.

  Gullin shouted over the answer to him. “They are here to welcome us and bring us to our host for the evening,” he replied. “This is your first time seeing Will O’ Wisps, isn’t it?”

  Will O’ Wisps? The fairy fires from folklore? David couldn’t believe his eyes. So this is what Gullin had been talking about, “crossing through the Curtain.” Acacia, being a magical creature, must have the ability to go back and forth between the human world and the supernatural worlds.

  As the gypsies marched on, the floating lights swirled around them happily, as if wanting to be part of the show. David recalled what he had read about Will O’ Wisps, that they mysteriously appeared over marshes or bogs at night, for they had an attraction for water. But there was no water here—

  Except for the clear blue water they were now walking on.

  He hadn’t even realized it until he looked down. There was no more earth beneath them, just water as far down as he could see. But the water did not even make his boots wet, and the wagons rolled over the rippling sea as surely as if it were solid ground. David, although a perfectly fine swimmer, found himself clinging tighter onto Acacia as he stared down at the water, wondering if at any second he would plummet right down into the icy depths.

  The sphinx chuckled at his anxiety. She nuzzled his cheek, as if to tell him not to worry.

  “Just who is our host for the evening?” David called out to Gullin. “Some kind of sea creature?”

  “The mistress never misses a chance to see her sisters,” Gullin replied, “and it’s the night of the Sea Song Festival. It’s good for us. We get paid well at these events.”

  Sisters? Acacia had sisters? He looked at her. “More sphinxes, like you?”

  Acacia shook her head, but grinned. She cooed a little melody, gentle like a breeze, and fluttered her wings a little.

  David figured this was some kind of riddle, another famous sphinx trait. Singing … wings … was she indicating some kind of bird? These must be sisters in the figurative sense. He found it odd that the gypsies would perform for birds …

  That’s when he heard actual singing, far off in the distance. A small island was appearing before them, rising out of the water in a wash of greens and blues. Great trees, with brightly blooming flowers, sprouted up all around the island’s shores. A stone structure was peaking above the treetops, resembling something like a cross between a mansion and a mountain. But the island’s beauty paled in comparison to its symphony. The singing was gorgeous, like something out of a dream.

  He knew then that he was hearing the song of sirens.

  Chapter Four

  “Welcome, Sister, and to your family.” An ochre-skinned woman with the avian traits of an ibis greeted the caravan as it arrived on the island’s shore. The siren was more bird than woman, long in neck and slender in body, with silken red feathers sprouting from head to clawed toe. Two other sirens stood behind her, one with the graceful curves and ivory-white down of a swan, and a darker-skinned female with the blade-sharp sleekness and steel-blue plumage of a heron.

  Acacia greeted her siren sisters with a bow of the head and a smile. The first siren turned to David. “You are new to us. What is your name?”

  The young man was too distracted to answer. His surroundings were beyond his imagination, full of color and light and all the creatures he had learned about in his tomes of myth and legend. Not just the Grecian ones, but Celtic fairy folk, mystic animals of the far East, and he even spotted what appeared to be an elfish dwarf wearing clothing of Norse origin. He snapped to attention and focused on his host. “I am David Sandoval.”

  “Welcome, David. I am Agalope, and my sisters are Molpe and Thelxepeia. I see our Sister Sphinx admires you very much.”

  Acacia frowned, making a sharp hiss.

  Agalope only giggled. “She is sensitive around us. I forget. Be at ease tonight. You are an esteemed guest in our home.”

  There was a question burning in David’s mind, and he could not help but ask. “I’ve read a story about sirens, about how … well, when sailors come to your island to hear your singing … and they … well, how can I put this tactfully—”

  “Die?”

  David tightened his lips. “Yes, that.”

  The sirens did not seem offended by the inquiry. Molpe answered the question. “Not all sirens are sensible. There are those who find humor in deceiving and hurting humans, but such folly always leads to misfortune. You have no reason to fear any ill intent from us.”

  “But do you know what I have been waiting for, Sister?” Thelxepeia said, addressing Acacia. “The Teumessian is being such a pest again. I don’t know why we even invite him to our festivals anymore.”

  “He invites himself, Sister,” Molpe corrected.

  “Well, anyway, someone needs to remind him he’s to watch his tongue,” Thelxepeia continued. “I know you’ll put him in his place, Sister Sphinx.” The siren looked into the sphinx’s eye, and made a surprised expression. “Oh my, do you have a name now? I had no idea. But I see it, right there, that little glint in your eye. What is it?”

  The sphinx looked at David with a smile. She nudged him. David was a little taken aback, but he replied, “Acacia.”

  “Acacia, how lovely. Appropriate, too. A beautiful flower that has thorns.”

  David hadn’t even thought of that. The floral name Acacia did derive from the plant having large thorns.

  Acacia smiled revealing her two rows of sharp teeth.

  The Teumessian was nothing like what David had expected. Molpe quickly briefed him that the Teumessian was a descendent of one of the children of the Great Drakaina, the dragon mother who birthed nearly every legendary monster in Greece. David remembered that Acacia, in his dream, had said her earliest ancestor was born of a Drakaina, and he wondered if there was some distant relation between her and this unwelcome guest. Was the Teumessian much like a sphinx himself, or perhaps more reptilian as the name drakaina implied?

  A narrow man, whose every facial feature was as sharp as a fresh blade, was seated at a lavishly decorated table, with two beautiful nymphs seated on each side of him. He was dressed in the highest fashion of the time from David’s human world, with fine leather shoes, a maroon-red suit and a gold chain laced across his velvet vest. His hair was a fiery orange gold, and his eyes were the same bright orange. Most notably, he had a large fox’s tail wrapped around his waist. David at first thought this was an odd accessory, until the tail flicked momentarily, indicating that it was in fact a rear appendage.

  “Ah, my dear cousin and her little entourage of peasants have arrived,” the fox-tailed man no
ted dryly. “How quaint. Say, who is your new arm decoration?” He grinned at David with the same warmth a hawk would give to a rabbit.

  David hesitated before he introduced himself. “David Sandoval.”

  “David. How droll.” The Teumessian said this unimpressed. “You seem rather dumb, but I could stand to have someone around for a little ‘man’ talk. Allow me to introduce myself, since your mistress is incapable of formally presenting me … or anyone for that matter.”

  Acacia curled her lip at him.

  “I am Nicolas Canidae Vulpini. I am also called the Teumessian, but you may call me Nico. Or Sublime, as many do,” he joked, casting a glance at one of the nymphs beside him and tickling her under her chin. The nymph giggled childishly.

  Acacia rolled her eyes. She mumbled one short word in her cryptic Latin, but even this seemed to cause her difficulty. David did not catch what the word was, but it must have been condescending, because Nico’s smile dropped.

  “It’s a shame you have such a disabled tongue. I almost miss your clever remarks,” he replied coolly. “Although, I suppose there are downsides to being too clever. It can leave one lonely in a world full of idiots. Speaking of lonely—David, do you know the story of the Sphinx lineage? It’s been passed down in the family for generations.”

  Acacia’s claws pinched into David’s skin. She snarled at Nico.

  “The first true sphinx, the winged purebred, was the only one of her kind born,” Nico continued, oblivious to Acacia’s irritation. “A bit hard to reproduce when there’s only one of you, isn’t it? The first sphinx spent her time plaguing the people of a populace city, devouring any traveler who couldn’t answer her riddle—frankly, a rather outdated, silly riddle, but I guess it’s a challenge for the human brain.