The Sorceress

They descended from the tower arm in arm, brother and sister. As he passed the other rooms on the way down, the Jackfish saw only cold forged iron, coal, and steel, but he thought perhaps he was looking at different rooms. The door at the bottom of the stairs was unlocked for the Sphinx when she turned the handle. Upon taking their leave of the tower and entering the hallway, they found all the servants of the Sorceress lined up along the walls, and the Sorceress herself standing at the far end.

The Jackfish bowed to the Sorceress and gave her the courtesies she was due. He said, “I am very grateful that you have shown such kindness to my sister for so many years, and taught her so much. I have traveled far and learned much on my own, but now it is merely my hope that you will grant her your leave to journey with me, and so we will not be sundered again.”

The Sorceress had grown quite fond of the Sphinx, and almost thought of her as a daughter, and so she was troubled. She did not want the Sphinx to leave her forest and go to the far ends of the earth with the Jackfish, but nor could she deny that such a request was fair. She said, “If that is what you both wish, you may leave, but you may not return thereafter.”

The Sphinx said, “If it must be so, it will be. You have taught me languages and secrets not even imaginable in dreams, but there are stories I cannot learn here in your castle, or there in your library. Still, we must ask something of you before I go, for there is one thing you have never given me. I know you have it, and I cannot go into the world without it.” At this, she smiled her strange smile.

“And what is that?” said the Sorceress, speaking with her thoughts hidden far beyond her eyes.

“A name,” said the Jackfish. “She cannot go into the world without a name, for the world will not know her. We would ask you to grant her this thing before we go.”

“Well, a name,” replied the Sorceress. “It is true that I know all the names of all creatures, but I cannot give her name away freely, for all things have their price. Three favors, Jackfish Crow. Do three favors for me, and I shall grant her a name so that you may both go into the world.”

The Jackfish remembered how his father the eagle had spoken of the Sorceress’ bargains, but he saw there was no other way. “What are your favors, then?” he asked.

“For the first favor, you must find for me a bird with a woman’s head,” she said. “Your sister shall remain here until this is done.”

Because the Jackfish had been to the ends of the earth, he had seen countless marvels, and he knew above all else where to find the most beautiful bird with the head of a woman. “I shall return three days from now,” he said, and set out from the castle. He traveled far to the east, to the new city in the North, and there he found a woman who had told him stories of a blackbird in the desert. He had told her tales of the ocean. She was pleased to see him again, and willingly followed him back to the darkest forest and the Sorceress’ castle. They returned to the castle on the third day, and found the Sorceress and the Sphinx waiting for them on the east pavilion, in the mid-day sun.

The Sphinx said, “He returns as he had promised.”

The Sorceress said, “But has he kept his word?”

The Jackfish spoke, “As you see, I have returned, and brought a bird with a woman’s head.”

“I see a woman, plainly enough,” said the Sorceress, “but nothing like a bird.”

“A moment, if it pleases you,” said the Jackfish, and then to the woman he said, “Would you be so kind as to tell us a story?”

Thus the woman opened her mouth and began to sing. She sang in the language of the birds, and she told the story of Crow, the first Crow, and how she brought fire to men. Even the Sorceress was moved by her song, though the Sphinx only smiled her same smile. Once the song was over, the Sorceress could not argue that the Jackfish had brought before her the most beautiful songbird with a woman’s head in all the world.

“You have answered my first favor,” she said to the Jackfish, “but two more yet remain. You must next find for me a fierce lioness with a woman’s head. Until then, your sister shall remain here with me.”

Because the Jackfish had been to so many lands, and had learned so many stories of the world, he knew already of the fiercest lioness of all who bore the head of a woman. “I shall return three days from now,” he said, and set out from the castle. He traveled far to the north, to a city which sat on the shore of a lake larger than the sea. On the lakeshore, he found a woman who lived in the shelter of trees which grew in the hard gravel worn smooth by the constant lapping of the waters. He had once told her tales of the ocean, and the ocean’s dreams. She had told him tales of great warriors from the island nations, and fields where men had fought and died. The woman was pleased enough to see him, and when he asked her to follow him to the darkest forest and the Sorceress’ castle, she agreed. They returned to the castle on the third day, and found the Sorceress and the Sphinx waiting for them on the west pavilion, in the evening sun.

The Sphinx said, “He has returned yet again.”

The Sorceress said, “But what of my favor, I wonder?”

The Jackfish spoke, “As you see, I have brought a lion with a woman’s head.”

“I see her plainly,” said the Sorceress, “but what manner of lion is this?”

“I will show you easily enough,” said the Jackfish. “You have many servants, Sorceress. Bring forth from among them those that you would deem your greatest warriors.”

The Sorceress was curious, thus she called forth two score and ten of those servants she had, whom she knew to be valiant warriors. Each one brought a sword or a spear, while some even carried pistols or rifles. When all had gathered before the Sorceress, the Jackfish proclaimed, “I challenge all of you to defeat this lone and unarmed woman in combat.” The Sorceress nodded her approval to her warriors, and all of them leapt upon the woman, who carried nothing with her but the clothes upon her back. As they attacked her, she snarled terribly and her visage became like nothing human. What weapons she needed, she took from those who attacked her. She turned swords upon their owners, she put guns to murderous purpose, and where she found such warriors as were not generous enough to provide for her their weapons she used her hands and her fists and her fingernails. In the space of seven breaths, all the warriors of the Sorceress lay upon the flagstones and the pavilion was slicked with blood. The fierce woman stood alone, scratched and bruised, panting, but in no way otherwise troubled, and the Sorceress could not deny that this woman was as fierce as the most fearsome lion.

“Clever Crow, you have answered my second favor as well,” she said to the Jackfish, “but I have yet one more to ask, and it will not be so easy as all have asked before. Find for me a dragon with a woman’s head. If you do this, the debt of your sister’s name shall be repaid, and she may go forth into the world as she wishes.”

Jackfish Crow bade his fierce warrior woman farewell; then said to the Sorceress, “That is the easiest of all the tasks you have set before me, for I know a dragon who hoards her treasure and guards it dearly, whom men often challenge and always thus find themselves bested, and who keeps a fair maiden in a cave, waiting only for the one who may best her.” So speaking, the Jackfish laid his hand upon the Sorceress’ wrist and held her hand before her. “You, Sorceress, are the dragon with the woman’s head.”

The Sorceress’ eyes flashed with anger, but once again she could not deny the Jackfish’s words. She showed her teeth as she said, “There can be no doubting it, then, cunning Jackfish. You have answered all my favors, and so I will give your sister her name. But I think you have been more clever than honest, however well you have answered these tasks. I will give your sister her name, and she may go into the world with you, but I will have some say as to when and how.”

The Sorceress then spoke certain words, one to each part of her body, and every part of her was changed until she stood before the Jackfish and the Sphinx as a dragon in the flesh. “You have named me a dragon, and so shall I be your dragon,” she said. “Hold me fast yet, for if you cannot, your last favor has not been met.” Jackfish Crow took the dragon Sorceress by the leg, and she thrashed terribly, and shook the walls of the castle with her bellowing, and cracked the flagstones with blows from her tail and claws. Still, the Jackfish held her fast and did not let go. The dragon Sorceress tore great rents in the flesh of the Jackfish with her claws, and his blood flowed into the cracks of the flagstones, but still he held her fast and did not let go. She kicked and dashed the Jackfish against the stones, and struck him with her tail, and shattered all the bones in his limbs, but his grip was unrelenting and he did not let go. She tore open his body and took his heart and lungs and liver from him with violence, but if anything his grip became tighter still, and he would not let go. She plucked out his eyes and his tongue, and split open his mouth and throat with her claws, yet he did not let go. The dragon Sorceress tore all the Jackfish’s limbs from his body and scattered them about the pavilion, but still, with all his blood having run through the cracks, without eyes or heart or tongue, he did not let go, for he held the dragon Sorceress with his left hand.

The Sorceress saw that there was nothing more she could to do shake the Jackfish from her and so she ceased her struggles. She turned to the Sphinx and saw there were tears in her eyes, even through she still smiled her strange smile. “Your brother has won your name,” she said. “You may go out into the world with him, if you so wish.” The Sorceress then spoke a word, and all her servants were struck deaf, and all the doors became deaf and dumb. All the creatures of the forest were made deaf, and all the birds ceased to sing. All the leaves of the trees and all of the blades of grass stopped their whispering and heard nothing, as a silence descended over the whole of the dark forest.

The Sorceress then spoke the Sphinx’s name, but only the Sphinx heard it, and the dead ears of Jackfish Crow. “Our bargain has been met,” said the Sorceress. “Go where you will.” And with those words, she turned and walked into the castle, disappearing into its shadows, yet remaining in the flesh of a dragon.

The Sphinx gathered up all of the Jackfish’s limbs as sound returned to the world, first from the birds, and then the trees, and lastly the doors. She gathered his heart and lungs and liver, and carried all of him out of the castle, across the mountains, and away from the darkest forest. The hearing of the Sorceress’ servants was the last to return, but ever after they could not speak.

On the rocky slopes of the mountain, she found the bones of a cougar, long since picked clean by scavengers and polished white by the air. With the bones of the cougar, she made the Jackfish’s legs whole again. As she climbed the mountain, she found the skeleton of a condor stretched wide across the granite. She took up the condor’s bones, and made the Jackfish’s arms whole again. Part of the mountain had collapsed in a landslide, and therein she found a rough diamond. Growing about the diamond were lavender roses, and so she made whole the Jackfish’s heart with roses and an uncut diamond. At the very top of the mountain she found the source of a river, and she washed the Jackfish in its pure waters. As the Sphinx came down the mountain, she found a willow tree growing from the unforgiving rock. She asked it for permission, and cut several branches from it, and gave it thanks. With the branches of the willow, she made the Jackfish’s body whole again.

When the Sphinx at last stood on the other side of the mountain, she plucked a lock of hair from her head and carved the bones of a mouse into needles. She sewed all the limbs and flesh of the Jackfish together again with this golden thread. She hummed to herself as she worked, in many languages, and so beautifully that all the birds from the other side of the mountain came to see her and to listen to her song. Many of them wept, for they knew the Jackfish well from their stories, and those stories he had passed on to them, but the Sphinx only smiled her smile. The last bird to appear was the vain peacock, and even he bowed to the body of Jackfish Crow.

“If I may ask,” the Sphinx said to the peacock, “might you lend me two feathers from your plumage? You have so many; surely you can spare these two.” The peacock was so willing, and the Sphinx gave him her thanks. With the feathers of the peacock, she made the eyes of the Jackfish whole again.

The Sphinx took a granite stone and dashed it to pieces against another. With a shard, she cut open her hand, and placed her blood into the Jackfish’s heart. She felt his pulse begin anew, and soon his heart beat in time with her own. With her lips, she placed her breath into the Jackfish’s lungs, and soon she felt his warm breath as his chest once more began to rise and fall. And with her name whispered in his ear, she opened the Jackfish’s eyes once more, and he became whole and living again.

Ever after, Jackfish Crow’s eyes were not the pale blue of the Sphinx’s, but bronze and green, and as blue as the ocean’s depths for any who looked closely enough. His sister gave him her hand, and helped him to stand. “Now you may show me the world,” she said to Jackfish Crow. “And I shall tell you our story.”

And that is how the story of Jackfish Crow and the Sphinx began.