“Oh,” Isadora said. “Now you’ve got me curious-”
Damn. Curiosity was bad.
“-and I’m thinking about all the places where there might be a circle and coven in the same place, ill-disposed to a new practitioner.”
Could I turn that around?
“Then, if it pleases you,” I said, “I won’t say, so you can enjoy the riddle.”
“That’s-” the drunk started.
“What?” I asked.
“A very foolish thing, to make statements like that. A promise, an oath.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m new.”
“Clearly so,” he said. “I had hoped, for the sake of my interests and yours, to hear your answer.”
In my interests?
“In my… good interests?” I asked.
He smiled, but he didn’t answer.
“I dare say, Jeremy” Diana said, “That you’re more lively in this meeting than I’ve seen you in over a year. I mean, you showing up is a rare treat, but you participating?”
“A degree of attraction, perhaps.” Isadora suggested.
“I would like him to attend one of my parties,” Jeremy said, allowing himself the smallest smile. His eyes, though, remained fixed on me.
If I’d allowed myself to relax a fraction, that comment and smile ripped it from me. It wasn’t the gay or bisexual thing. It was the vibe of it, the vague hostility I sensed from him, contrasted by the attraction, the fact that he was clearly sixty and that I could smell the booze and pot on him from where I stood, twenty feet away…
Bad memories boiled to the surface, unbidden. I clenched my hands, and dimly realized I still held the hatchet. I distracted myself by sheathing it. Which meant jamming the handle into the side of my pants, so it sat against my leg.
Conquest seemed content to preside over this in silence, while the other three engaged in banter, putting the new guy on the spot.
“What’s your sign, Blake?” Diana asked.
“Can I tell that to an astrologer without putting myself at risk?” I asked.
“You can,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, “Let me rephrase. Will I open myself up to any risk by sharing it?”
“I promise you no harm from me and mine, along this vector,” she said. “I’m curious about your compatibility, nothing more.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’d need that sort of promise from everyone present, and I don’t want to offend the Lord of Toronto.”
“We only want to get to know you better, but we can ask more innocuous questions.” Isadora said. “Answer me this, who are you?”
Who was I?
I thought for a few seconds, trying to sum up an inoffensive answer, one that wouldn’t out me as a Thorburn, something that would put me in a good light, while remaining honest.
“I-” I started.
I stopped as I noticed the silence.
They were all very still, watching me.
Had they figured me out, somehow?
No. It wasn’t hostility. Not from anyone except the drunk.
I looked at the sphinx, and I saw how she was more still than any of them. A friendly smile on her face. But her body…
Rabbits went still when they sensed danger. Predators, too, went still, when they were on the prowl, preparing to pounce.
What was going on?
A question?
No.
I had to remember what I was dealing with.
A sphinx and… a riddle.
Did that even count as a riddle?
I seemed to recall that the Greek or Roman myth of the Sphinx involved the murder of those who gave the wrong answer.
Who was I?
How close had I come to giving a simple, casual answer? Had they collectively maneuvered me into this, or was it Isadora doing what her kind naturally did, timing the question so I might slip up and give the wrong answer?
As for answers, I deliberated for a moment.
“I’m the Fool card, drawn with the right hand, the High Priestess drawn with the left,” I said.
Just like that, the tension was gone. I could see the others, Conquest excepted, shifting position. The drunk took a swig from his bottle, looking somehow disgruntled, the astrologer changed position, so she sat with her bare legs dangling over the edge of the large stone block that served as her chair.
And Isadora changed the way her forepaws were folded in front of her, so the paw that had been beneath was now on top.
“Someone told you,” she said.
“I honestly figured it out myself,” I said.
“And you chose the answer that served to sum up who you were, while not giving any points that could be argued.”
“Honestly,” I said, “I chose the most bullshit answer that sprung to mind, because even if I was wrong, I thought it would buy me time to think or to argue the point.”
She broke into laughter. Loud, and eerily human. I could see Diana smiling, too.
But the Lord was grim and ‘painted’ as ever, and the drunk didn’t seem any less creepy.
“Most people simply don’t answer when she asks any question,” Diana said.
“Don’t tell him,” Isadora said. Her paws uncrossed, and one hit the ground with a surprising amount of force as she shifted position to look at Diana, stirring clouds of dry powder. “I was going to throw some more questions at him, see how easily that bullshit flows.”
“I appreciate the tip, Diana,” I said.
“You owe me one,” she said.
“A little one, maybe?” I suggested. “I would have figured out that was allowed, sooner or later.”
“Whatever you wish,” Diana said, with a shrug.
“What other answers were you going to give?” Isadora asked.
I opened my mouth, then shut it.
Isadora pouted visibly, “No fun. Okay, then I’ll rephrase. I would like to know what other answers crossed your mind.”
I glanced at Diana, who gave me a dismissive wave.
“You’re safe, like that,” she said.
“I was going to tell you an abridged version of who I was and where I came from,” I told the sphinx.
“Ah, but that doesn’t answer the question, does it?” the astrologer asked.
“No,” I said. “I guess not.”
“Nobody truly understands themselves, and figuring out who we are is an ever-transforming journey,” Isadora said. “A riddle is merely a question that demands a thoughtful or clever answer. Do you understand?”
I smiled a bit.
“No fun at all,” she pouted, again.
“Sphinxes are creations and natural Others with a heavy tie to the karmic balance,” Diana said. “They’re often used as divine guardians for temples or sites of power. Different sphinxes follow different rules, gaining certain rights and powers from karma and destiny, provided the other party deviates from a code, offers a mistruth, breaks from tradition, or something in that vein.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” I said. So even here, in Conquests domain, she might have the ability to murder me with impunity? Or she would gain another kind of power? One tied to destiny, fating me to die at her hands and paws if I ever gave the wrong answer?
“You seem quick enough,” Isadora said. “Tell me your other thoughts. I would like to know how your mind operates.”
I glanced at Diana, who nodded. Safe?
“The other answer I was going to give,” I said, “Would have been ‘a man’. But I figured bullshit was better than being a smartass.”