The Price of Passage

By Rachel Dib

Morris stared at the path below and flicked his tail in annoyance. He really wanted to use the canyon pass, but that stupid flying beast with the human face blocked the route.

He growled at the memory of his one attempt to walk through the ravine. Since the beast was part lion, Morris had tried to appeal to her feline side. After all, big or small, cats needed to stick together.

Only, the gargantuan being hadn’t thought the same way. Rather than grant Morris free passage, she’d spat a riddle at him. A riddle! What did Morris know about riddles? He’d had to dash away to keep from being eaten. Now, he sat perched atop a cliff with no easy way of proceeding onward and no suitable place to which he could return.

Movement caught Morris’s attention, and he swiveled around to see a human riding a horse down the path. Ducking lower behind his craggy rock, Morris watched as the human paused before the giant beast.

After a moment, the man climbed down from his horse and stepped forward. “Mighty Sphinx, I seek passage through your domain.”

As the creature nodded, her lips lifted, revealing long canines. “The price for passage, if you agree, is a riddle I will ask of thee. If the wrong answer you beget, death will be your last regret.”

“I accept,” the human replied.

Upon hearing this answer, the beast grinned.

Fool. A shiver zipped down Morris’s spine. Still, he lifted his head a little higher to better watch the scene unfold. When the Sphinx spoke, Morris heard a purr of anticipation underlining her tone.

I live inside a void unknown.

I am hot despite the icy cold.

I may look near but I am far away.

I am bright but hide during the day.

Delicate pictures I design.

You see me even when I die.

What am I?”

Once the riddle was complete, Morris noticed excitement dancing in the Sphinx’s eyes. To his surprise, Morris shared her enthusiasm.

It’s like waiting for the exact moment to pounce on prey!

The human’s body tensed. Fear followed by shifty-eyed cunning flashed across his features, and then he turned sharply.

As the Sphinx’s paws engulfed the man, Morris shook his head. Too slow.

He expected the Sphinx to eat the horse as well and was stunned when, instead, she again recited the riddle. The horse looked at the Sphinx for a moment, but rather than go the way of its master, it tossed its mane with a whinny.

Certainly the mighty beast does not speak horse. But to Morris’s disappointment, a frustrated look crossed the Sphinx’s face and she nodded.

“Correct you are, and you may pass unharmed or go back the way you have come. But if you return again, you’ll find my patience has thinned, and I’ll feast upon your bones one by one.”

Morris let out an annoyed hiss as the horse turned and trotted away, tossing aside its chance to walk the canyon passage. Such a waste. He slashed at a rock with his claws. If horses are the only ones able to guess that riddle, I’ll never discover the answer!

He slumped over the rocky ridge. While Morris knew he might be able to successfully sneak past the Sphinx by climbing over it, he worried about slicing open the bottom of his paws on the jagged rocks, especially with dusk beginning to fall.

I’ll have to camp here and try to climb the ridge in the morning.

Scooting away from the edge, Morris curled up in a small dip in the rock. Sleep eluded him though, which was odd because sleep never eluded him. It usually came as naturally as gutting a mouse.

It’s that riddle. He growled. It makes no sense. How does something live in a void? Or stay hot in the cold? And what is bright only at night?

Annoyed, Morris glanced up at the dark expansive sky. He tilted his head. Oh.

As dawn stained the horizon with shades of orange and pink, Morris padded toward the Sphinx, his ears pricked and tail erect.

“Again, you seek entrance, but I shall not let you pass. No one evades me, especially not one so crass.”

“Except that I did evade you,” Morris replied. “Which means I bested you. And I plan to best you again.”

That seemed to catch the Sphinx off guard for she inclined her head and leaned back on her haunches. “You did best me once. Though play fair, you did not. I’ll give you my riddle…”

Before Morris could even blink, the Sphinx lunged forward, snapping her teeth a centimeter from his nose. She smiled. “And then I’ll eat you for lunch.”

Morris swallowed. “But it’s barely morning.”

When the Sphinx’s smile only widened, Morris cringed.

“All right, if I fail, you’ll eat me. But if I guess correctly?”

“Pass you may, or return whence you came,” the Sphinx replied.

“Good.” Morris sat down. “Tell me your riddle, and I swear I’ll play fair this time.”

The Sphinx gazed at him narrowly for a moment before repeating the riddle from the day before. When she was finished, Morris flicked his tail in nervous apprehension. The Sphinx’s eyes sparkled.

Hopefully I’m right about this. Morris forced back the beginnings of a hairball. He met the Sphinx’s eye. “Stars.”

The Sphinx froze. She stared down at Morris in obvious consternation. “Cheat you must have done for no way could you have won.”

“So, I’m right then?”

The Sphinx gritted her teeth. “One chance I’ll give you to run through the pass, but be sure not to linger or you’ll soon feel my wra—”

Morris didn’t wait for the Sphinx to finish before darting past her.

When he was far enough away that he no longer felt threatened, Morris slowed. Just over the horizon, he saw a little farmhouse surrounded by green. He smiled. I knew she was guarding something good.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel Dib is a stay-at-home mom of three small children. After marrying a soldier, she left her home state of South Carolina to live in random places across the U.S. In her limited spare time, she enjoys reading, writing, and playing board games. Her other published work can be found in online magazines.

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