The Sphinx’s Answer

The sphinx asked her riddle a thousand times over the years.

She only received around eight hundred responses. Those who ran, those tried to fight, they were not given a second chance to satisfy her. None escaped. She took no pleasure in their deaths, or in any for that matter. Each lost life filled her with sorrow and, increasingly, frustration. Each was one more failure to find the only thing that really mattered to her. The Answer. The key to freedom.

Of the eight hundred, only five and a half were unique. Fewer if different turns of phrase carrying the same meaning were discarded as well. The count of new responses had dwindled with time but still she felt a surge of hope each time one was spoken. It lasted only until she tried it on the lock that held her captive. Then she turned to the frail creature in front of her and spoke the words that cut deeper and deeper into her heart.

“You are wrong.”

Fear filled their eyes, so much smaller than her own. Anger too, desperation, despair. And inevitably hatred. It was the last she saw before they were gone. The last they saw was her maw, teeth spread wide, red tongue out as she devoured them.

This one was small, even by their diminutive standards. Was it young perhaps? She pitied it if so, for how could it know that which so many others had not? Indeed it had been silent thus far. Considering her question or planning its attempt at survival, the sphinx cared not. It had been still thus far, and after this many years the sphinx was nothing if not patient.

After ten minutes, it sighed and sat on the ground. The sphinx thought it would declare its answer, or perhaps beg for mercy. Instead it said, “I might need a bit to consider this one. It is a pretty hard riddle. Do you mind if I sit here for a bit?”

Its voice was calm, but a different calm than the others the sphinx had heard before. Their calm had been due to misjudged confidence, or a fake veneer thinly disguising terror. This one just sounded distracted. Perhaps it was truly considering. Regardless, the sphinx had all the time in the world. She nodded and let her deep voice ring once more across the cavern, “You may.”

The little one smiled up at her. “Thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a name you would like me to call you? Is Sphinx your name?”

The sphinx regarded it. Names were familiar to her, but the concept was still foreign, human. What use had a creature for a name if she was the only one of her kind? This was too much for her to explain though, so instead she just answered, “You may call me Sphinx.”

It nodded again. “My name is Vera. It’s my grandmother’s name – passing down names is a family tradition. My brother is Al, short for Alphonse. After my grandfather on my dad’s side.”

The sphinx did not have anything to say to this and remained silent.

Vera continued, “How come you are here, Sphinx? Do you like it in the cave? It is nice and cool I suppose.”

Conversing was unfamiliar to the sphinx, especially about herself. Something about this one drew the words forth however and she found herself telling the whole story. She recalled the man who had trapped her here, the treasure he had set her to guard, the curse he had locked her with, the search for the answer. Vera sat silent, listening intently. Finally the words ran out and the sphinx lowered her head to her paws. She felt exhausted, empty, like the words had been all that kept her up and now nothing was left. The emptiness was a relief though as well, as if sharing her pain had lifted some of it off her mind.

Vera stayed in place after the sphinx finished. The cave rumbled into silence as the last echoes of her voice bounced against the walls. When Vera spoke, its voice was so faint by comparison that the sphinx found herself leaning forward to get closer.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here. I’ll try my best to answer so that you can get out, I promise. I only get one try right? I have to get it right first time?”

The sphinx nodded, for those were the rules of her curse.

“Okay. I will think then. Will it bother you if I pace?”

The sphinx shook her head and the little figure got to its feet. It walked back and forth across the floor, steps even and slow. The beat lulled the sphinx’s mind into a peaceful calm and she wondered idly if this was what the little creatures experienced as sleep. Perhaps not, as even in peace she still watched the motion below.

Hours trickled by until Vera stopped. The sphinx shook herself as it approached her pedestal to speak.

“I think I know what you are doing wrong, Sphinx, but you have to promise to let me finish my explanation before you eat me. Else you won’t understand, and it might not work.”

The sphinx nodded agreement. She would listen to the end, not because she trusted the creature to be honest but because she had confidence she could catch it if not.

“There is no answer.”

The sphinx growled deep in her throat. This was most certainly not the answer she wanted to hear. Vera flinched back nervously, but the sphinx remembered her promise and did not pounce yet. After a tense moment, Vera continued.

“That is, there is not one answer. Everyone wants something different. I think you need to take all the answers you have, and give that as the answer.”

The sphinx stared at it and considered the rules. Technically nothing stated that there must only be one answer, but it did not seem in the spirit of things. Then again, in a way all the answers was Vera’s singular answer. She would at least try. The sphinx turned inward and gathered all her memories of all the responses and offered the bundle to the lock.

Bars fell from the door behind her with a cacophony of metallic thuds. The chains on her soul shattered and for the first time, she smiled down at the one before her.

Vera met her grin with one of its own. “Does that mean I get to live?”

The sphinx sprang from her pedestal as she had countless times but instead of baring her teeth, she just bowed.

“No. It means we both do.”