by Lou Anders
“No, no,” replied the sphinx. “These days we play a new kind of game. Not as physical. More of an intellectual challenge.”
“Like Thrones and Bones or Queen’s Champion?” Karn asked hopefully.
“Not so much,” the feline creature replied. “Tell me, how are you with guessing riddles?”
“Riddles?” said Karn. “Is that what we’re going to do? How’s that work, then? We ask each other a few riddles, share a laugh, fun times, we wish each other well, and we’re on our way?”
The kobalos all snickered at this. The sphinx smiled.
“Human life is short,” she said. “It’s good you have a sense of humor about it. Especially at the end.”
“The end?” said Karn.
“Of course,” she replied. “I said I only ate humans occasionally. Well, it just so happens that the specific occasion on which I indulge that appetite is when someone can’t guess my riddles. I wouldn’t want you to think I just go around feasting on humans indiscriminately. I always give them a sporting chance.”
“Humans,” said Karn. “Not minotaurs?”
“Hey, you’re the one in charge,” objected Asterius.
“Oh, now you think so,” said Karn bitterly.
“So here are the rules,” said the sphinx. “I ask you a riddle. You guess it, you and your friends go free. You get it wrong, or stand there gaping like an idiot for so long that I get bored, and I eat you. And probably your minotaur friend too. Sound fair?”
“No,” said Karn and Asterius at the same time.
“Too bad Thica’s not a democracy,” said the sphinx. “Now here we go.”
She leapt from the roof to land atop a nearby column. Karn noticed that the stone was actually worked into the shape of a huge foot, broken off just above the ankle. If a complete statue had once stood here, it must have been colossal, its stance striding the valley. From this new perch, the sphinx puffed out her chest and sat up straight, clearly enjoying the moment. Then she cleared her throat.
“I attract the worst and corrupt the best,” she said. “They say I reside in the blood, but blood spills when I change hands.” The sphinx paused to lick her lips, then she finished, “What am I?”
Asterius leaned over to whisper in Karn’s ear.
“It’s got to be some sort of sharp object. She said it cuts your hand when you grab it. Say a knife, or maybe a really sharp fork.”
“What’s a fork?” asked Karn, softly so the sphinx wouldn’t think that was his answer.
“No helping!” the sphinx chastised them.
“Believe me,” the Norrønur replied, “he isn’t.”
“I think I’m offended by that,” snorted the minotaur.
“Quiet!” said Karn and the sphinx together.
Karn thought about the things he found attractive. He wondered if any of those things could rust or decay. He wondered at what could be inside his veins and still be something you could pick up. Around him, the kobalos hopped about, chittering in annoyingly shrill voices. A few of them waved eating utensils at him in derision. Probably forks, he thought. They looked like they might be handy at mealtime but not helpful here. “Worst, best, blood, hands…,” he muttered.
“Time is running out,” said the sphinx.
“It always is,” Karn replied. He felt a burst of exasperation. “What is it with you people? There’s always some draug or dragon, some secret society or imperator, who thinks his way is the only way. Do this or else. Do that or else. Just once I’d like to meet a monster or a ruler who…”
Karn’s voice trailed off, and he smiled.
“Power,” he said. “The answer to the riddle is ‘power.’ It attracts the worst people and it corrupts those who have it. Kings and queens pass it down their bloodline to their children, and no one ever lets it go or seizes it without a fight.”
The sphinx clapped her paws.
“Very good,” she said. “Excellent, really. Most impressive.”
Karn was surprised.
“You’re not upset I guessed your riddle?”
“Why would I be upset?” she replied.
“You don’t get to eat me.”
The sphinx batted her tail in irritation.
“I told you, I only do that occasionally. It’s not like people are a favorite food or anything—that would be spanakopita, actually; the kobalos make a delicious spinach and cheese pie if you want to try some. They could whip one up in half an hour.”
“No thank you,” said Karn. “But—the riddle?”
“As I said, it’s the challenge that’s fun. I love contests of brain or brawn. I don’t really care who wins or loses. It’s why we sphinx were such good moderators when the Empyric Games were up and running. We’re impartial. We just love watching people compete.”
“Oh,” said Karn, relieved that he was still alive and the sphinx seemed happy. Then he had a thought. They were heading to Labyrinthia to find allies. But maybe they could gain a few more. He held out his left hand.
“Does this ring mean anything to you?”
“Is it valuable?” asked the sphinx.
Karn shrugged. “I’m told there are other measures of its worth.”
“Too bad, then, that I don’t have hands,” she said. “But no.”
Karn was frustrated but not ready to give up.
“My friend is a prisoner of the Calderans. Will you and the kobalos help us rescue her?”
“Absolutely not,” said the sphinx. “We don’t get involved in local politics. We’re impartial.”
“We’re desperate.”
“Nothing doing,” said the sphinx. “We could cook you some nice spanakopita instead, if you like?”
“Could you make it without the cheese?” asked Asterius hopefully.
“No,” said Karn, scowling at the minotaur. “We don’t need spanakopita!” He turned to the sphinx. “But maybe you have something that our hippalektryons would eat?”
“I think we could manage that,” said the sphinx.
“Good,” Karn replied. “The sooner we reach Labyrinthia, the sooner we can return and rescue Thianna.”
Thianna was leaning against the wall of her prison when she heard the explosions. The stone walls rocked with the force of the blasts. This was followed by lots of shouting and the sound of running feet.
She peered through the gap between the slabs. Into a familiar pair of dark eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Desstra.
“I’m glad to see you too,” replied the elf. “Now stand back. I’m going to blow the door.”
“There’s a switch on the wall, actually. You just press a jewel.”
“Hmm,” said the dark elf. “An explosion would be more fun.”
“Didn’t you already set one off?” asked the giantess.
“I set off several.”
Desstra stood up, passing out of Thianna’s narrow view. The frost giant heard her fumbling at the wall, then the huge stone slabs slid away with a loud grating noise.
Desstra stood leaning against the wall of the doorway with a very satisfied look on her face.
“Where’s Karn?” Thianna asked.
“Last I knew, he was escaping,” said Desstra.
“I thought you were protecting him.”
“I was protecting you both. You needed it more.”
“I told you I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you’re really doing a bang-up job without me, I can see. Been in this cell long?”
Thianna grunted. “It’s not so bad. There’s a big map on the wall, so I was brushing up on my geography. And the food here is pretty good.”
“I’ve noticed that about Thica,” said the elf. “They do feed their prisoners well. If you’d like, I can close the door again.”
“No, no,” said Thianna. “I think I’m ready to go.”
Desstra led Thianna toward the exit. The giantess noticed the elf’s palms. “What’s that on your hands?”
“Bat droppings,
” the elf explained. “Highly explosive.”
“Ah,” said Thianna. “Things make sense now. It’s gross, but it makes sense.”
The giantess paused when she noticed the odd plant standing in one corner of the next room. She was fairly certain it hadn’t been there on her way in.
As Thianna stared, the foliage of the plant relaxed, and suddenly she was staring at a strange girl with skin of bark and hair and clothing of leaves.
“Wood elf?” asked Thianna, though she didn’t think so.
“There are elves made of wood?” the plant girl asked.
“This is Daphne,” the elf explained. “She’s a dryad. One of the hostages. She’s with us.”
“Great,” said Thianna. “Welcome aboard. Can you fight?”
The dryad shook her head.
“I’m good at hiding,” she volunteered.
A dactyl guard noticed the three girls as they emerged from the palace. He shouted to catch the attention of others who were busy battling flames. Several of the guards turned their way, brandishing hammers and axes.
“Unfortunately, I think we’re through doing that,” said the giantess.
King Herakles appeared, shouting, “Take the big one alive!” and suddenly Thianna found herself struggling under the weight of a pile of dwarves.
However, taking the frost giant at all was proving to be a problem. Even gripped around the legs, arms, and waist, she was managing to stumble forward. Luckily, the frost giant was also drawing the most attention, allowing Desstra to pick off Thianna’s attackers. Behind the elf, Daphne quaked and tried to slip into her camouflage.
“It’s a little late for hiding!” Desstra yelled.
“But never too early for a somersault,” said Thianna, who dove to the ground and tumbled head over heels. She came up laughing, which was more than could be said for the unfortunate dactyls who had either been shaken off or rolled over. Thianna picked up a discarded hammer and handed it to Desstra.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” said the elf, eyeing the unfamiliar weapon. “Because if you want me to build you a longhouse, I’m a little shy of nails.”
“Very funny,” muttered the giantess. “It’s a hammer. You hammer things with it.”
Desstra adjusted her grip on the weapon, frowning skeptically.
“Just like the stupid dwarves to make a weapon without a pointy end,” she muttered. “I’m really missing my darts about now.”
Hastily the three girls made their way across a narrow footbridge. They allowed Daphne to take the lead, while Thianna came last. She swept her sword back and forth to keep the dactyls at bay. Below them the river of lava bubbled ominously.
“Nobody fall,” Thianna advised.
“Good thing you pointed that out,” said Desstra, “because otherwise that would have been my plan.”
“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” the giantess replied.
Desstra was preparing a retort when Daphne interrupted her.
“They’re cutting us off,” the dryad pointed out. Sure enough, another group of dwarves were charging at them from the other side of the bridge. “Oh, this is the worst rescue ever!” she wailed.
“Let’s make sure it’s not the shortest,” Desstra replied. She moved to take the lead, readying her hammer to engage the first of the new dactyls. Behind her, several brave dwarves rushed Thianna at once. They were being pressed from both sides, forced together into a tight knot with nowhere to go.
“We need a way out, elf,” said Thianna.
Desstra looked upward, but the ceiling was far too high to offer any solutions. She glanced at the lava flow below. There was no way to go there and survive. Then she noticed a narrow ledge on a rocky wall, about fifteen feet down and ten feet out. A door set into the wall on the ledge, secured on the near side with a heavy metal bar.
“There’s our way.” She pointed with her free hand while bringing her hammer down on a hasty dwarf. “I can make that. Thianna, I’m sure you can. Daphne?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” the dryad replied. Without waiting for further instruction, she leapt from the bridge. Thianna drew in her breath as she watched the arc of the girl’s fall. The dryad wasn’t going to make the ledge. Then, to her and Desstra’s wonderment, two large leaves spread from under Daphne’s arms. They caught the air like wings. Buoyed by her foliage, Daphne sailed the rest of the way to land safely on the ledge.
Thianna shoved a dwarf away and turned an amazed look on Desstra.
“You didn’t tell me she could fly!” she exclaimed.
“I didn’t know. Anyway, that was more of a glide.”
“Well, it’s our turn,” said Thianna.
Desstra nodded. The giantess didn’t hesitate. She leapt across the gap, landing heavily on the ledge below. Her impact dislodged a few stones, which fell splashing into the lava.
The dark elf hesitated. The distance looked farther than she’d first imagined. Beside her, the dactyls seemed as daunted as she did. They paused, watching their chief quarry waving at them from the ledge below. Then they realized they could still trap the elf, and they reached for her.
Desstra sprung into the air. She glided across the gap, the lava hissing far below her feet. And fell shy of the ledge.
This is how it ends, she thought.
Thianna caught her and pulled her to safety. The two girls stared at each other for a second. Then Thianna released her and turned to unbar the door.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that way!” King Herakles shouted down to them from above.
“We’re not asking you to!” yelled the frost giant.
“No, I mean, I wouldn’t go that way if I were you,” the dwarf monarch corrected himself.
“We got it,” snapped Desstra. “But you’re not us.”
Thianna pulled the door open. They gazed into a dark lava tube, which led downward.
“We barred the north exit for a reason,” said the king.
“So it’s an exit, then, is it?” said Thianna.
“A curse on my big mouth,” said Herakles when he realized his mistake. “Still, it’s really in your best interest that you don’t go that way. Believe me.”
“Maybe we should listen to him,” suggested Daphne.
“You can stay if you want,” said Thianna. “I’ve got places to be.”
She marched into the darkness. Desstra followed. The dryad hesitated, and then with a shudder she hurried after the two girls.
—
“There’s a light up ahead,” said Desstra.
The going had been extremely slow, with the elf having to lead both Thianna and Daphne through the pitch-darkness. The frost giant had stubbornly tried to walk on her own, but after the third time she struck a wall or bumped her head on a low arch, she relented and let Desstra lead her. Daphne clung to the elf’s other arm, her bark nails once again gripping Desstra’s bare flesh too tightly.
“I don’t see anything,” said Thianna.
“You will in a second. It looks like they’ve carved shafts to let light in.”
“Why just at this end?” asked the giantess.
“They probably did it throughout,” replied the elf. “But it was nighttime when we set off. It must be dawn now.”
As if in response, a beam of sunlight fell through a shaft before them. Daphne relaxed her grip on Desstra’s arm and stepped into the warm golden column. A smile grew on the dryad’s face as her foliage stretched out appreciatively to catch the light.
“I was getting hungry,” she explained.
“That’s convenient,” said Thianna.
“Very,” said Desstra, whose stomach had begun rumbling. Then she voiced a small “ooh” of excitement. The elf bent to examine a patch of mushrooms growing beside the tunnel wall.
“Find something you like?” asked Thianna.
“Very much so,” said Desstra, plucking a variety of different fungi. “Several of these are quite tasty.”
“If you say so.”
/> “And these,” continued the elf, uprooting a strange purple mushroom, “these have other uses.” She smiled wickedly. Thianna wondered just what sort of nasty potions the Svartálfar could concoct with the weird fungus. Desstra dusted off and ate a few and slipped others into her pockets. “You never know when they’ll come in handy,” she said.
They continued on their journey. The tunnel widened into a larger chamber, where the basalt stone walls and columns had been elaborately reworked by the dwarves. Impressive facades were carved into the walls, and large stone dactyl faces gazed down at them from the corners of the room. Numerous passages opened onto balconies on either side, though the main tunnel continued at the opposite end from where they had entered. Water issued from the mouth of a larger-than-life dwarven statue in the center of the room. It collected in a small pool and doubtless flowed out through a drain at the bottom, though a break in one section had caused a large puddle to form over a good deal of the floor.
“It’s a shame they don’t use this room anymore,” said Thianna. “I wonder why they abandoned it. It must have been nice before it was deserted.”
“Nice?” protests Daphne. “No soil, no sun. I don’t call that nice. Though I could stick my feet in that fountain if we have a moment. I’m still thirsty.”
“Suit yourself,” replied the giantess. Daphne gave a little squeal of excitement and went to splash in the pool.
“Glad someone’s having fun,” said Thianna.
Beside her, Desstra had grown very still.
Thianna looked to her companion.
“I don’t think this room is abandoned,” the elf said quietly.
“You saw the bar on the door,” said the giantess. “They don’t come this way anymore.”
“I know,” said Desstra. “I think it has other occupants.” She pointed. Thianna followed her gaze to a corner of the room, where, under the shadow of a large dactyl head, she saw a cluster of round objects. Some were fist-sized, others were larger.
“A pile of rocks?” Thianna asked, puzzled.
“Not rocks,” said Desstra. “Eggs. We need to get out of here. We need to get out of here now.”
“I think it’s too late,” said the giantess.