A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,88

at the sphinx and recited from memory.

"Never leaves home

Walks alone

When in danger

Turns to stone"

The sphinx sighed, rot on her breath. "A turtle," she said, "entering its shell for safety."

Lyana stared at him, mouth open, eyebrows raised and head tilted.

"It was a tough riddle," he answered in a small voice. "I couldn't answer when Mori asked me."

Lyana's face turned red, and she looked ready to throttle him. She gritted her teeth as if stifling rage, breathed in heavily, and turned away.

"I will ask you a third riddle," said the sphinx. "Are you ready, children of stars?"

Elethor and Lyana looked at each other, took deep breaths, and nodded. The sphinx raised her head and spoke, voice echoing across the mountain.

"Young princess of sand

Sad prince of snow

Turned to queen and king

From the desert

With heat and blood

The birds of fire sing

When father falls and brother dies

When flesh and fire burn

When an ancient kingdom falls to ruin

Why does our king still yearn?"

Elethor clenched his fists and lowered his head. Rage and shame coursed through him. This was not fair. This was no riddle; it was an accusation, a cheat, a trick. He raised his burning eyes and stared at the sphinx.

"You speak of me," he said, voice raw. "And of Solina."

He did not know how the sphinx knew of life aboveground. Could she see through leagues of rock and flame? Was she a goddess like the stars of Requiem?

Lyana clenched her fists and howled. "You are cheating!" she said. "This is not a true riddle. I've read books of riddles before." She panted with rage, cheeks red. "Riddles follow a format. Their answer is simple, their hints obscure. The answer always snaps into place and seems obvious when you know it. This is just a question, not a riddle!"

The sphinx raised her brow. "This is the greatest riddle of his life. He must answer."

Elethor gritted his teeth and looked away. Did the sphinx want to cheat? Fine. He would answer. He would play her game.

"Because she was mine!" he said, digging his fingernails into his palms.

The sphinx growled and raised her claws. "That is no answer, Boy King."

"It is the only answer!" he shouted, eyes burning. "I'm not ashamed of it. You want to know why I still love Solina? Why, even after she butchered my family, toppled my city, and murdered my people, I still love her?"

His breath came heavy. He was aware of Lyana gaping at him, but paid her no mind. Blood pounded in his ears, and his heart thrashed as if trying to break his ribs. His head spun, and the sphinx eyes stared at him, boring into him, peeling his soul.

"Yes," he whispered. "I still love her, Herathia. When I think of her eyes, her hands in mine, the sunlit days when we lay upon grass, yes… I still love her, even now. Because she was mine." Tears burned in his eyes. "Orin had his inheritance, his sword, his betrothed. My father had his throne. Mori was adored by the court. But I had no room there; I was a lesser prince, a mere sculptor, no warrior or leader. But Solina…" He could barely breathe; his lungs ached. "She was beautiful, and strong, and wise, and from another world. She was a princess, a great light in her homeland. And she loved me. Me, the younger prince—not Orin, not my father, but me. She was mine, and proud, and beautiful, and I would share her with none. Earning her love was the greatest thing I could do; she was my crown, my throne, my golden pride."

He realized that tears ran down his cheeks, his chest rose and fell, and his fingers shook. Vaguely, he was aware of Lyana placing her hand on his shoulder.

"So yes," he whispered, "I still love her, and I hate her. The heart will still love those who broke it, like a drunkard loves the wine that ruined him, like a poor gambler still loves his favorite game." He looked up at the sphinx and smirked through his pain. "Does that answer your riddle, Crimson Guardian?"

The sphinx was grinning—a cruel, feline grin, the grin of a huntress.

"Yessss," she hissed. "That answered it well. I like this game. Ask me another riddle."

Rage flared in Elethor, turning the world red. This was all a game to her! He had spilled out his innermost secrets, secrets he had spoken to no one. His people were dying. Lyana probably hated him now, and always would, as much as he hated