Young Writers Society

II

The marketplaces of Alexandria were always bustling, but more so during the summer months, when the city experienced an influx of tourists. Guarded carts beneath lavish canopies displayed exquisite jewellery, the traders protected from the harsh rays while their golden necklaces and platinum rings glinted in the sunlight and awaited inspection by the wealthy. Most of the tented stands sold trivia instead, which included things like small, decorated chests, exotic idols of Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses, models of the pyramids, and various talismans and charms of questionable function and quality.

For those uninterested in the copious, shiny trinkets, souvenirs such as scrolls of papyrus or tablets inscribed with hieroglyphs held more appeal. Regarding more practical purchases, the curious wanderer could choose to browse through the vast selection of local garments woven from soft cotton, or perhaps sample the many spices characteristic of the Middle East. This was seemingly the intent of the two Caucasian young men who strolled through the various stalls and ignored the cries of the numerous vendors, making directly for the large burgundy tent of such a spice merchant.

The shade it offered brought relief from the sun’s intensity, but did little to alleviate the dry heat of the climate. One could even argue the air inside the tent was more stifling than outside, considering the wafting scents that dominated the air, but most would agree the cuisine prepared for the appraisal of perusing patrons served to create an enticing, rather than oppressive, ambience. While the black-haired member of the pair tightly gripped his briefcase and wrinkled his nose at the pungent aroma of a nearby bowl of cayenne pepper, the red-haired individual stepped closer to an attendant to watch the man’s demonstration of which spices were incorporated into the tomato sauce used together with garlic vinegar to top a dish of lentils mixed with rice and pasta. The former noticed the latter’s fascination and drew alongside him.

‘We have business to conduct,’ he reminded his companion.

Only once the attendant finished his demonstration and allowed those gathered to ask questions, did the redhead turn to his friend and consent to being lead towards the back of the tent. ‘That dish is called kushari and is considered by many to be the national dish of Egypt!’

The black-haired young man smiled and shook his head good-naturedly. ‘We can try some after we’re finished here.’ They stopped in front of two guards clad in Oriental armour, deadly scimitars hanging at their sides. Unfazed, he turned to his slightly more intimidated companion and joked, ‘It feels like we’ve been transported back to the nineteenth century, wouldn’t you agree?’ before addressing the guards with a firm, ‘Seth Black and Ross White. We have an appointment.’

The guards wordlessly moved aside. Seth nodded in thanks and stepped through the hanging strings of alternating claret and cyan beads that acted as a screen. Ross followed more timidly, warily eyeing the two guards beyond the screen before stopping dead in his tracks.

Many handsome artefacts were scattered across the room in which the pair found themselves, some, openly lying on a gorgeous ebony desk, others, on display in cabinets. Yet the regal figure in the middle of the room rendered them all diminutive and insignificant. Her glossy hair, a natural wave as black as midnight, curled down to her shoulders. A coronet rested upon her head, its strings of gold embellishing her hair and fringe. Malachite pigment painted her eyelids, brows and lashes green, while ochre rouged her cheeks. Gilded scarabs of turquoise and amethyst acted as earrings.

A garment of scarlet accentuated by gold and teal covered her breast and upper back, but she kept her abdomen and lower back exposed, revealing skin as smooth as polished jade and as radiant as refined copper. Intricately designed bands of gold inlaid with turquoises adorned both of her upper arms, while individual bracelets of garnet, peridot, amethyst, and orange topaz decorated her wrists.

The delicate jewellery was certainly grand, and the noble lady’s striking countenance was more than enough to make a man’s heart race, but neither were her most prominent feature. What captivated the boys was that instead of legs, she possessed the lithe body of a lioness.

Though she stood with her front legs, her hind legs were folded, allowing her to rest in a half-sitting position. Save for a teal cloth tied around what served as her waist, the two ends outside the knot hanging down to her legs, her lower body needed no ornamentation, for no precious metal or stone could rival such lustrous fur. Her tail slowly swished back and forth in approval of the uninhibited admiration.

The duo recovered at about the same time, but observing his friend’s hesitation, Ross bowed and spoke for both of them. ‘Your Illustrious Grace, we apologise deeply for staring. We had expected your moniker to be a symbolic representation of your determination and wisdom alone; we could not possibly have anticipated “The Sphinx” was intended literally too.’

The Sphinx rose from the crimson rug upon which she had rested and moved to the desk between her and the friends. Returning to her half-sitting position, she gestured at the two chairs before them. ‘Your ingratiation pleases me. You may approach.’ The young men obliged, and she poured each a cup of mint tea, adding milk but leaving them to add their own cane sugar. While they did, she carefully scrutinised each in turn, much to their discomfort, before addressing them. ‘You have been granted the distinct honour of making my acquaintance. As is customary, you may now demonstrate your gratitude.’

Seth, attempting but failing to mask his nervousness, pushed his tea aside and pulled a pouch from his breast pocket. He opened it and cautiously poured twelve small diamonds onto the desktop. ‘A dozen G-colour diamonds with slight inclusions to the first degree. All are round brilliant in shape and weigh at least a carat, but total more than sixty thousand dollars in value.’ After receiving a pointed look from Ross, he hastily added, ‘As befits the Scintillating Gem of the Desert, whose majesty cannot be matched by any mundane jewel.’

The Sphinx picked up the loupe resting on her desk and began a quiet examination of each individual diamond. In the meantime, Seth opened his briefcase and produced the certificate for each, placing them on an open space to his left. In the silence that followed, he found himself discreetly sniffing the air scented by the Sphinx’s perfumed body oils. She smelled of iris and hyacinth for the most part, but her hands in particular carried the unique fragrances of rose and violet.

Her examinations soon complete, the Sphinx briefly yet thoroughly scanned the certificates to verify their legitimacy and laid them down again. ‘Your tribute has proven satisfactory.’ She allowed Seth to return the diamonds to the pouch, which he then placed on the pile of certificates, before concluding, ‘You have my attention.’

Seth nodded but cast a backwards, disapproving glance at the guards. Reinitiating eye contact with the Sphinx, he said meekly, ‘Most esteemed lady, fairest mistress of the sands, we are forever grateful.’ He cleared his throat before continuing. ‘The matter on which my companion and I have come to seek your venerable counsel is a sensitive one. I humbly request that only your noble ears hear of our plight.’

‘Do you not trust the integrity of my servants?’ she asked, her voice steady and placid, yet conveying unmistakeable displeasure. ‘Do you perhaps believe that I do not consider the confidentiality of my dealings with clients of the utmost importance?’

Visibly distressed, Seth replied, ‘She Whose Generosity Puts All Other Hosts to Shame, I would never dare insult you so! Your august presence inspires awe even in the most hardened of souls. I merely meant to express my inability to do anything but marvel at such an imposing display of power. We are your modest guests for as long as we have the privilege of your interest.’

She regarded him impassively for a moment before conceding, ‘Very well.’ She raised her hand and dismissed her guards with a flick of the wrist, leaving only the two outside the room. Once they had left, she asked, ‘What is it that you desire?’

‘May I speak candidly, Magnanimous Queen of the Savannah?’

‘You may.’

Seth shared a look with Ross, who politely sipped his tea, and blew out a shaky breath. ‘We seek the whereabouts of that which grants eternal life. We seek the Fountain of Youth.’

For the first time since the start of the encounter, emotion entered the Sphinx’s expression, fleeting however it might have been. ‘You seek that which does not exist.’

Sharing another, more worried look with Ross, Seth insisted, ‘With respect, Loveliest Sight Which the Eye Can Behold, we have been told otherwise.’

The Sphinx flicked her tail. ‘Perhaps you should review the reliability of your source. Or do you mean to imply you suspect me of dishonesty?’

Hardly making eye contact, he responded, ‘We have scoured the globe for any and all information pertaining to the fountain’s location, and through the sheer luck of a fortunate happenstance, we learned of Your Most Enlightened Ladyship. Truly, there can be no worthier guardian of the Fountain of Youth. We ask that you test us and impart this most sacred of knowledge, should you deem us deserving.’

‘You are bold, Seth Black. What folly has possessed you that you should consider yourself even remotely “deserving” of such a blessing?’

‘Wisest of All Protectors, humanity has ever been an arrogant race. It is through your hallowed judgement alone that our worthiness may be ascertained. We beseech you to reconsider your stance.’

Silence reigned. When it seemed the Sphinx would refuse to answer, Seth let his dejected gaze drop to the ground. Ross, witnessing this, placed his cup on its saucer, visibly gathered his courage, and ventured, ‘Most Astute Warden, is it not your ancestral duty to assess the intelligence and bravery of those who find their fates resting in your just hands?’ Though he’d started trembling, he persisted, ‘Were three correctly answered riddles not the toll for passage in ancient times?’

The Sphinx suddenly grew very still. An observer might think she was about to pounce, and indeed, it seemed the two boys were silently offering prayers to whichever deity they thought most likely to show them mercy. But to their immense relief, she inclined her head in the slightest of nods. ‘If you insist on the old customs, then it will be so. May Thoth watch over you, for an incorrect answer will render your lives forfeit.’ Seth and Ross both breathed slowly and nodded their assent, prompting her to say, ‘A golden sun rises high in the sky that bears the Divine Will. What is sought in departure?’ To their anguish, she then overturned an hourglass beside her loupe, afterwards resting her hands on the table, one over the other.

‘Seth, I need paper,’ Ross demanded instantly. Staring at the flowing sand, he remarked, ‘We have a few minutes.’ Seth quickly snatched a notebook and pen from his briefcase and handed them over. Ross folded the cover open and grimaced. ‘It’s empty.’

‘Now is not the time,’ Seth whispered through his teeth.

‘Sorry!’ Ross replied and immediately recorded the riddle. Always keeping a close eye on the hourglass, he added notes at a frenzied pace. Seth followed his progress without a word. ‘Hah!’ Ross exclaimed two minutes later, writing his answer at the bottom of the page and underlining it twice. He grinned at Seth and the Sphinx before evidently recalling the gravity of the situation and recovering his composure. ‘Dazzling Beauty of Egypt, the answer to your riddle is chrysolite. In the Book of Exodus, it is mentioned as being the second crystal in the Breastplate of the Ancient High Priest, which would place it in the centre of the top row. Its name means “stone of gold” in Greek and was found primarily on Topazos Island, the name of which in turn means “to seek”.’

The Sphinx made no response and simply waited for the sand to reach the bottom of the hourglass. ‘From the end comes the beginning,’ she continued. ‘From filth, sanctity takes flight. What rolls?’ Again, she turned the hourglass on its head and reassumed her pose.

‘This is an easy one,’ Ross whispered to Seth, turning the page and noting down the riddle. ‘It helps that we have a context.’ He barely made any annotations before announcing, ‘Precious Treasure of the Mediterranean, your riddle’s answer is the scarab. It lies its eggs in a ball of dung, on which the larvae feed upon hatching. It is for this reason that it was considered a religious symbol of Ra’s journey across the sky and his subsequent rebirth to begin the journey anew.’

So little time had passed, the Sphinx flipped the hourglass again to let it run out more quickly. If she was impressed, her stony gaze showed no sign of it. When the sands stilled, she said, ‘Dark Slayer of the Serpent, Favoured by the Judge, the Lord of the Red Desert battles, poisons, and maims the Lord of the Black Soil. Which forked tail steals the eye?’ She overturned the hourglass without looking away from the two.

As before, Ross transcribed the riddle without delay, grinning in glee at the challenge it posed. Seth, however, remained motionless in his chair as he stared at the Sphinx. His skin had gone dreadfully pale and he seemed sick to his stomach. Only when he didn’t respond to one of his friend’s urgent questions did Ross realise something was amiss. ‘What?’ he asked, looking uncomprehendingly from Seth to the Sphinx and back. ‘What’s wrong?’

Even the Sphinx herself appeared faintly unnerved by the look of pure horror. ‘Speak your mind,’ she commanded.

‘Set.’ Seth offered no further explanation and rose, promptly dashing from the room.

Ross stared after him in open-mouthed shock. He looked at the notebook and made only a few notes before saying, ‘Oh.’ He regarded the Sphinx with eyes as cold as her own. ‘You have mortally offended him.’

Her voice a menacingly low growl, she replied, ‘You speak dangerously, Ross White. Choose your next words with care.’

Ross was indifferent to the threat. ‘May I speak plainly? I imagine our grovelling must have become tedious.’

The Sphinx’s tail flicked to and fro, but she otherwise remained aloof. ‘You may style me as you did at first.’

‘Very well, Your Grace,’ Ross complied, his frown indicating he would have enjoyed applying sarcasm to the title. ‘The riddles you posed us are undoubtedly spontaneous products of your extraordinary intellect, as is apparent in—’ Ross paused to stare at the returning Seth and made to question him, but the latter waved his hand dismissively and reclaimed his seat, suddenly showing great interest in his tea. Looking back to the Sphinx, Ross resumed more slowly, ‘As is apparent in the sources of your inspiration.’ He gestured first at her bracelets and then at her earrings. ‘Chrysolite is another name for peridot, and the scarabs are self-explanatory.

‘Similarly, Your Grace chose Seth’s name as the inspiration for your final riddle, since it is a variation of “Set”. This deity is depicted as accompanying Ra on his solar boat to repel Apep, the Serpent of Chaos, for which he holds Ra’s favour during the conflict with Horus. Furthermore, Set and Horus are respectively known as the Lords of the Red and Black Land, and their struggle for the throne of Egypt is legendary. During this struggle, they engage each other in combat, sex, and mutilation. The Set animal is recognised by its forked tail, and the Eye of Horus represents a large number of concepts, although it was literally one of Horus’ eyes that Set removed. After restoring what each took from the other, their feud ends and Horus ascends to the throne.

‘This conflict is the chief cause of Set’s demonization, and why likening Seth to his namesake has upset him so. Having studied the origin of his name, he recognised the details immediately.’ Ross stopped to catch his breath and used it as an opportunity to glance at Seth, who had finished his tea but avoided looking at either members of his company. Facing the Sphinx again, Ross concluded, ‘If Your Grace’s sources of inspiration are so obvious in hindsight, why choose them at all?’

‘I do not maintain a habit of creating riddles,’ she replied, once again exhibiting her signature calm. The sand in the hourglass trickled to a stop. ‘It is your own presumptuousness that lead to your friend’s distress.’

‘Your Grace,’ Ross said uncertainly, ‘I do not understand.’

‘Which variety of sphinx do you consider me to be?’

‘Egyptian, of course.’

‘And which variety of sphinx tells riddles, devouring those who answer incorrectly?’

Humiliation washed over Ross’ features. ‘…Greek. Your Grace, I am terribly—’

The Sphinx raised her hand, silencing him. ‘You have wasted enough of my time already; do not waste more of it with a drab apology. Guards.’

The two young men gasped and looked fearfully behind them as the two guards outside entered the room. ‘Your Grace!’ Ross exclaimed.