Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

But Celeste held up a hand and said, “My Lord Sphinx, in all honor, I find it only fair to warn you, I know the answer to your most famous riddle.”

“The one Oedipus solved?”

“Oui.”

“Ah, that is not mine but the riddle of one of my sisters, she of the eagle’s wings and lion’s body and a beautiful woman’s face. Nay, I will not ask her riddle, but another one instead.”

Celeste sighed and signed for the Abulhol to proceed.

And from the surrounding air there sounded the song of the plucked strings of a lyre, and the Sphinx intoned:

“I go on no legs in the morning, And my no legs are my last.

I go on two legs in the noontide, I have just had a repast.

Four legs I dine in the dark nighttide, Now you must name me at last.”

Once again the great deadly claws of the Abulhol came sliding forth.

Celeste glanced at Roel, and his face was filled with distress. He turned up his hands, and she despaired: Roel has no answer, and neither do I. Think, Celeste, think! No legs? What has no legs? And how can no legs become two legs and then four legs? This Sphinx, this Abulhol, this creature of the desert, has posed an unsolvab-

She looked up and smiled and said, “My Lord Sphinx, a being of the desert you are, and so creatures of the desert are perhaps the answer.”

The Abulhol looked down at her and said, “And what would they be?”

Celeste took a deep breath and braced herself and said, “ ’Tis a dying asp in the morning whose corpse is eaten by an ibis at noon which in turn is eaten by a jackal at night; hence no legs in the morning is taken in by two legs at noon, and two legs with no legs inside is taken in by four legs in the dark nighttide.” The Sphinx nodded and said, “Very good, Princess,” and it sheathed its claws.

Tears of relief sprang into Celeste’s eyes.

Roel said, “Lady Doom was right: you are quite good at riddles. But how did you. .?”

“Oh, love, the answer is in the second line of the riddle.”

Roel frowned. “‘And my no legs are my last’? But how can that-? Ah, I see: when something is on its last legs, it is dying. And a no-legs thing on its so-called ‘last legs’ is a dying snake, an asp in this case, and it becomes carrion.”

“Oui, and what eats carrion? An ibis. You said so yourself back at the stele. And I guessed the four legs was a jackal, for one of those was on the stele as well.” Roel embraced Celeste and kissed her. “Oh, my love, if we succeed in saving my sister and brothers, it will be because of you-your wit, your courage, your prowess with a bow. I could not ask for a better companion.” Celeste took Roel’s face in her hands, and she kissed him deeply, only to be interrupted by a grinding “Harrumph!” She turned and looked up at the Sphinx, and it was smiling.

“If you two are finished with this unseemly display of affection. .”

“We are, Lord Sphinx,” said Celeste.

“Then I shall start you on your journey to the land of the dead. Yet heed, your path will be quite difficult, for, as Lady Doom said, creatures and heroes and the dead will test you along the way. Well, I am a creature, and I did put you to trial, but there are more ordeals to come.

And recall, as Lady Lot said of the tests you will face along the way, you must win them all, just as you won the one with me.”

“Yes, Lord Abulhol, well do we understand,” said Roel.

“Then I will lead you to the gateway to the land of the dead, but heed me, take nothing you see in the tomb of Meketaten; else I will hunt you down and slay you outright.”

“You have my pledge as a knight,” said Roel.

“And mine as the Princess of the Springwood,” said Celeste.

The great Sphinx nodded his acceptance, and said,

“Then follow me,” and he stood, and sand cascaded from his flanks and came roaring down in a great pour.

The horses snorted and reared, and it was all Celeste and Roel could do to maintain control.

Now looming above them, the massive creature strode forward, its ponderous steps thudding, seeming to judder the very world with each thundering footfall.

“His tail!” cried Celeste, and she sprang into her saddle as Roel leapt into his, and they turned the horses and galloped out from under the belly of the monstrous Sphinx just as his massive stone tail dragged through the place where they had been. And the Abulhol laughed, his gaiety sounding as would an avalanche of tumbling boulders.

Toward the city he walked, and each step shivered the ground, and the sloping sand against the ramparts shuddered and ran down. Celeste and Roel trailed at a safe distance, and as the Sphinx came to the wall, he lifted his tail and delicately stepped within the bounds of the shrine.

And now like a great cat he padded, gently easing his feet down. Toward an enormous cube of stone in the city center he softly stepped, carefully passing by steles and pylons and buildings and columnar rows and ruins, and when he reached the huge block he stopped and looked ’round at Celeste and Roel following.

“I think you will need to dismount and lead your horses,” said the Sphinx, “for the entrance is quite low.

And light a lantern; you will need it to find the way.” And so the princess and her knight dismounted, and 282 / DENNIS L. MCKIERNAN

Celeste took his reins while Roel fetched a lantern from the packs and set it aglow.

When all was ready, “Keep in mind your pledge concerning Meketaten’s tomb,” rumbled the Abulhol.

“We will, my lord,” said Celeste.

“And remember, you must pass all tests; else you will not find the arrow of gray.”

“We understand, Lord Sphinx,” said Roel, “and we stand prepared.”

The Abulhol sounded a chuckle like sliding rocks and said, “I doubt that.” And then the creature turned to the great slab and whispered an ancient word, and a dark opening appeared; then the Sphinx stepped aside. “Fare well, and I pray the light of Re shines down upon you both.”

Celeste curtseyed and Roel bowed, and Celeste said,

“And may Mithras find favor in you, Lord Abulhol.” The Sphinx roared in laughter and said, “Do you not know, Princess, that Mithras and Re are one and the same? Now go; you are keeping me from my sleep.”

“As you wish, my lord,” said Celeste, and then she turned and followed Roel into the shadows beyond.

Thoth

Into the mausoleum they went, and when the last horse clattered onto the marble floor, from behind there came a thunderclap that reverberated throughout the looming shadows. Celeste turned ’round, and by the light of the lantern Roel carried, she could no longer see the opening they had entered; only solid stone met her gaze. .

. . There was no way back out.

Tall columns loomed up into darkness above, and from left and right aureate glints came winging to the eye from gilded chests and rich fabrics and golden goblets and other such treasures. Sparks of sapphire and scarlet and emerald and sunshine glittered forth from gems and jewels and jades. Silver chalices there were, filled with crystals of quartz and amethyst and chrysoberyl.

“Oh, my, what wealth,” breathed Celeste.

“But look beyond, my love,” said Roel.

And deeper in the shadows there stood linen-wrapped forms, shields on their arms, spears in their hands.

“Guardians?” asked Celeste.

“Oui.”

“Did they murder men simply to have an honor guard for Meketaten?”

“It would seem so,” said Roel.

“Oh, how utterly cruel.”

“Mayhap not cruel, cherie. Instead I deem it a useless waste. Still, I think they might have gone willingly, for I ween they believed it assured them a place of honor in the afterlife.”