The Scholar, the Sphinx and the Shades of Nyx

by A. R. Cook

  Gullin stood up, clearing his throat and he spoke in a steady voice. “The Shade shall be imprisoned forever in stone … Then shall Night claim the hero for her own.”

  A tree might as well have toppled onto David, for that was the heavy brunt that he felt on him. “Night will claim the hero … as in, darkness shall befall him?”

  “Nyx is the Night. If someone were to defeat her Shade, and ruin all her plans, I think it’d be worse for the bloke than just ‘darkness befalling him.’ She’d flat out kill him, David boy. This oracle isn’t talking about Acacia’s savior. It’s talking about her martyr.”

  “And Acacia didn’t want me to know.”

  “She was trying to protect you. At least, after she—” Gullin fell silent, as he turned his head towards the direction of a rustling in the brush. David held his breath, as the rustling sounded like something heavy plodding their way.

  His hair stood on end as a bear lumbered out from behind a tree, looking directly at them.

  Gullin spoke in a whisper. “Don’t move. Most times, these brutes don’t want any more to do with us than we them. But if he charges, I’ll handle him. You run to someplace safe.”

  David was going to ask how Gullin planned to “handle him” without any weapon, but he didn’t get a chance. The bear was loping over to them, and David was already willing his feet to run. Gullin shot up from the log, raised his fists over his head and bellowed at the bear. Instantly, the bear froze in its tracks. It lowered its head, folding one of its paws over its eyes.

  David blinked in surprise. “Mi Dios, Gullin. You frightened him.”

  “Why is the scary man yelling at me?” the bear whimpered in Japanese.

  David let out a long breath. “It’s all right. It’s Tanuki.”

  Gullin cracked his knuckles. “Don’t suppose I can still give him a good whooping.”

  “It’s all right, Tanuki. You gave us a scare, looking like that,” David called.

  Tanuki the bear shambled over to David, panting heavily. “Sorry I took so long. When those men took you into that village, I was waiting to see what they would do to you. But I saw this bowl of vegetables by one of those funny houses, and I was sooooooooo hungry, but when I went to get one a mean old woman chased me with a stick. I hid until she went away, but by the time I thought it was safe to come out, they took you to this forest, so I followed after you, but then I got lost and a weasel chased me, but I changed into this shape to scare him away, and that was fun, and here I am now, and there you are, and there’s the smelly man—”

  “All right, Tanuki,” David said. “I think we’re all caught up now.”

  “We couldn’t go anywhere without the fur-ball, now could we?” Gullin looked as if he had just bitten into something sour. “We ought to keep going. You can’t finish this bloody spirit walk if we just stand around. Oh, and boyo, if you can talk to violets, or whatever that ridiculousness is, don’t let me know. Keep it to yourself.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Tanuki added, “there was this lady in white back there, right after I scared off the weasel. Funny thing, she must speak animal because I could understand what she was saying clear as day—”

  “A lady in white?” David walked up to Tanuki. “What lady? What did she tell you?”

  Tanuki shifted back into a badger. “She said I should take you to a clearing down this way, past a stream and a tree with a bee’s hive. And she said only you could come, and the red-haired man should wait right here.”

  David recalled what the shaman had said. Ptesan-Wi was the White Calf, and supposedly female. If Ptesan-Wi passed between the bison and the people, undoubtedly she could take on a human form. This had to be the first sign of his vision. He had to go on alone, with his badger guide showing him the way. Given that this mysterious lady in white had been able to talk directly to Tanuki, there couldn’t be a much clearer sign than that. He looked over at Gullin. “Gullin, Tanuki said that he was told by a woman in white to take me to a clearing. I think maybe it’s Ptesen-Wi—”

  “Well, that was quick, wasn’t it? You mustbe special.” Gullin sat back down on the log, crossing his legs to get comfortable. “Go on, boyo, this is where you go on by yourself. Old Gullin will be waiting for you. Make sure to come back with that stone. I’ll be mighty sore if you don’t.”

  David nodded, and he turned to Tanuki. “Well, Spirit Guide, lead the way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  If Nyx was the Night, she was not being compassionate. The shadows of dusk distorted the trees, and the calls of the nocturnal shattered the serenity of the forest like gunshots. Tanuki, able to see well in the dark, shifted back into a bear so that David could hold onto his fur and not get separated from him. As they walked, Tanuki sniffed the forest floor, gobbling up a mushroom whenever he came across one. David, despite not having eaten for a good while, was not hungry. He was too consumed with thinking about what he was heading towards, and what he had found out about the oracle. Was he really the “one” that the oracle had referred to? What if he wasn’t? If he wasn’t, would Ptesan-Wi help him, or, as the shaman had cautioned, would she destroy him? What if it was Gullin who was supposed to be doing what he was doing now?

  He heard the gentle babbling of a stream not far ahead, and his heartbeat quickened. Tanuki stopped at the stream and took a good long drink. David, realizing he was parched, knelt down and took a handful of the refreshing water and drank.

  “Would you like me to catch you a fish?” Tanuki asked. “We could build a fire and cook it.”

  “I’d rather we get to the clearing as quickly as possible,” David answered.

  “How about honey?” Tanuki insisted. “That lady said we’ll pass by a bee hive on the way. I’m good at getting honey.”

  “If you want honey, go on and get it,” David said. “Be quick, so we don’t waste time.”

  Not too far past the stream, Tanuki’s nose twitched and he licked his lips. “I smell it! I smell honey. It’s up in that tree, right there.”

  David couldn’t see anything, given the darkness. Tanuki shifted back into a badger and scrambled up the tree, leaving David alone in the darkness.

  “Tanuki! Don’t take too long,” he called.

  The wind whipped around him harder, and David hugged his arms around himself for warmth. He listened for any noises from the tree, but Tanuki had seemed to vanish.

  “Tanuki, come back down,” David shouted. No answer.

  A bolt of lightning burst from overhead onto the ground not far from where David stood. He reeled back and stumbled over in shock, and as he lay there he tried gathering his composure and his wits. He spotted a light down the path, about where the lightning had struck. He considered whether or not to go to it. Had Tanuki caused that lightning bolt, as a kind of joke? Or was this part of his vision?

  “Tanuki, can you hear me? I see a light down the path. Can you see it from up there?”

  No answer.

  David paused, scratching his head. “I’m going to go inspect that light. I won’t go too far. Catch up with me,” he called.

  He crept down the path, advancing slowly towards the light. He could tell it was not a light from a fire, for it did not waver and was not the warm reddish-orange of flame. It was a steady bluish-white light, much like the kind he was often told one might see on their way to Heaven, and he wondered if this was a bad omen. When he finally reached the source of the light, it was radiating from something lying on the ground. The light softened as David approached it, enough so that he could make out what was lying there. Immediately he froze.

  The light was coming from the bones of a skeleton. The skeleton was wearing the charred remains of Gullin’s clothes.

  David wanted to run. He wanted to find Tanuki and demand to be taken back through the Curtain. He wanted to go home. He wanted to wake up and find out this was a bad dream. Before he could take any action, he saw the outline of someone standing on the other side of the bones, the faintly illuminated face of a woma
n.

  Oh God, oh God … David was paralyzed. Was this … Nyx?

  The women stared at David. Long black hair braided with beads framed her face, and a long white shawl was wrapped around her body. Her feet were bare, but she wore bands of beads around her ankles.

  David stammered, but his words formed as anger pushed its way through him. “You … you did this? You killed him! He didn’t deserve this!”

  The woman smiled at him. Not a malicious smile—a motherly, gentle smile, not one that you would expect from someone dangerous.

  “You’ll pay for this!” David found himself shouting without control or caution.

  The woman raised her hand. “Show no anger,” she spoke softly. “Touch the bones.”

  David’s breath caught in his throat. This woman was crazy. Would David incinerate too, if he touched the skeleton? All he could think of was: This wouldn’t have happened to Gullin, if I had never come here.

  “You must face what you fear,” the woman said. “Touch the bones.”

  The young man wiped his hands over his face. What had he gotten himself into? All he had wished to do was find the Turquoise. He had wanted to banish the Shade of Nyx, and save Acacia …

  Acacia …he could still save her. He couldn’t let Gullin die for nothing. Even if this was madness, he was the only one left to fulfill the oracle. He had to get the Singing Turquoise, no matter what this woman was planning to do to him. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the skeleton’s right wrist—

  He was holding a toy wooden sword.

  “David! David, darling, come downstairs,” he heard a lyrical voice calling him. “We have a surprise for you.”

  David stood up, looking around at the walls of a familiar room, with its yellow-striped wallpaper, light green drapes on the windows, and polished wooden furniture. Toys and books of all kinds littered the floor, and there was a welcoming bed with finely pressed sheets.

  He was in his bedroom. He was home. After realizing he was shorter than usual, and looking over his clothes—that silly sailor-style suit his mother always made him wear—he discovered he was seven years old again.

  “David, did you hear me, dear?” He heard his mother calling from the stairway out in the hall. “Stop playing with your toys and come downstairs.”

  David dropped the toy sword and scurried excitedly out of the bedroom and down the staircase, to the front parlor of his house. There his mother stood, in her blue dress that she wore fondly, with her dark hair up in a tight neat bun held in place with a tortoise shell comb. Next to her stood another woman, about eighteen years of age, wearing a plain lavender dress and holding a strangely-shaped black case in her hands. She had a bright smile, shining ebony eyes, and her mahogany-brown tresses were held back by a white lace scarf.

  “David, this is Señorita Flores,” his mother said. “She is going to be your tutor in music.”

  David rubbed the back of his right leg with his left foot. He held his hands behind his back, lowering his head, but his eyes never left the strange lady.

  “Don’t be rude, David. Come here and greet your new teacher,” his mother commanded.

  David shuffled over to the woman. She continued smiling her wonderful smile, and she made a short curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, David. Your mother tells me you love to learn. We’ll have so much fun together.”

  That was what all of David’s teachers said. This one may have been prettier than the others, but he was sure she would be just as boring. He wanted to read the books he wanted to read, and not have to go through the boring lessons that his tutors forced him to do.

  “Can I go play?” he asked his mother earnestly.

  “Of course not. You’re going to have your first music lesson. Sit and listen to Señorita Flores.” His mother glided out of the room, shutting the parlor doors behind her.

  David sat in a chair across the room from Miss Flores, who sat down on the couch. She patted the spot next to her. “Come now, no reason to be shy. If I’m going to be your music teacher, we should get to be friends.”

  David hesitated, but trundled over and sat on the couch. He looked at the odd case in her hands. “What’s in there?” he asked.

  Miss Flores opened the case, and pulled out a finely polished instrument. It resembled an enlarged violin. “This is a very special instrument. It’s called a viola. I’m going to teach you how to play it, as well as the piano. I could also teach you the clarinet and the flute, if you’d like. But we’ll start with this.”

  David felt disappointed. “I’d like to learn to play something else. That looks like no fun.”

  “Oh, but that’s not true. The viola is the finest of the strings. It has a richer, fuller tone than a violin, and is more expressive and crisp than a cello. It is the life-giving breath of many great symphonies, and is beloved by the best composers. A violist is a very special person.”

  David touched the viola with one finger, as if testing it. “Do I have to?”

  “Try it for a few weeks. If you don’t like it, we’ll move along to something else. But I can already tell, with those fine fingers of yours, you will be an excellent musician.”

  “Yes, Señorita Flores.”

  “You may call me Catarina, if you like. It’ll be our secret.” She winked at him.

  No … no, I don’t want to see this! Why are you making me think about this? Are you trying to drive me mad? Please … please just let me go …

  David was thirteen, going on fourteen. He had become knowledgeable in many things, and was already well known for his love of odd, magical tales. He was a fine violist now, regularly entertaining guests of the family who stayed at the house. He did not mind it; as a matter of fact, he enjoyed his viola lessons more than any other, even though his daily lessons had been shortened to weekly due to his other studies. He insisted to continue the lessons so he would be the best viola player in the country— and so that Miss Flores would keep coming over to the house.

  Catarina had also taught him the piano over the years, but it was their special time with the viola that he looked forward to. The way she would lightly touch his fingers to correct his position on the strings, the way she would watch him with an enthusiastic light in her eyes when he played, the way she laughed like a bird’s song when he would say something witty or funny. He absolutely loved his time with her.

  Others in Cervera would sometimes make pitying remarks about Catarina. She was getting on in years, they said, and no eligible bachelor who had come to court her had asked for her hand. Most attributed it to her “peculiar demeanor,” as she was often more outspoken than was proper. Rumor had it she also liked to do boyish things, like catch frogs by the river, and ride horses bareback. She would soon become a lonely spinster, they said, if she did not start behaving in a more acceptable manner.

  David did not care. He liked Catarina for being so different. If no one ever asked for her hand in marriage, that would be fine. He’d make sure he took care of her. In fact, when he was old enough and had a good career, he’d buy her a house so she’d always have a place to stay. Better yet, he’d buy his own house and ask her to come live with him. Then they could play duets together all the time. He would show her the sonata he had been composing for the last several months. It was not quite right yet, but by her next birthday he would have finished it.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, David?”

  David stared at her.

  “I’ll be moving to Barcelona in a few days. Alejandro has already acquired a grand house, and he wants to have the wedding there. It’s not far away, so I can come visit every now and then.” Her beautiful smile faltered, but she kept a cheerful attitude. “I know we won’t be able to have our lessons, but you hardly need me anymore. You and your family can come up and visit us, too, whenever you wish. Alejandro has a gorgeous viola from Hungary that he says he has no interest in keeping, so I can have it sent to you once I get there, or you can come have it when you visit.”

  David f
orced himself to give Catarina a weak smile.

  Catarina embraced him, but normally where her embraces felt like coming home after a perilous voyage, it now felt like a kiss from a guillotine. She noticed a roll of paper that David was holding behind his back. “What is that you have there?’

  David clenched his fist around the manuscript paper. “It’s nothing. Just a new song I was thinking about practicing.”

  “You’ll have to make sure you learn it before our next visit, right?” She smiled again, and she kissed him lightly on the forehead.

  At that moment, David wished that the roll of paper in his hand, the one with his finally finished sonata written on it, was a dagger. It might as well have been, because he felt one lodged in his back at the moment. The sonata ended up as kindling in the fireplace that night.

  “David, what on earth happened?” His mother was somewhere between concerned and livid, it was hard to tell with her. She was staring at David’s viola, which was smashed in half on the floor, barely held together by its ligaments of string.

  David looked at her, his face a blank. “I dropped it,” he replied dully.

  His mother crossed her arms. “Don’t think I’m a fool, David. First, you allow your brothers to use your old viola as a racket, and now you’ve destroyed this one that Catarina sent you. These instruments are expensive, David. I won’t allow all those years we invested in your playing to be wasted because of your temperament. You should be happy for Señora Fernandez and her husband. Stop being so selfish.”

  David’s body was as rigid as a crowbar. “I’m not going to play music ever again.”