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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.

The Room in the Tower

Jackfish Crow wasted not a day, nor an hour, nor a minute, but straightaway set off to find the secret places where all the castle doors led. He waited and watched these places in the deep, dark woods, and his patience was rewarded one morning when he saw the woman known to others as the Sphinx, but recognized by the Jackfish as his sister. She came out from the woods where no one had been, and she walked with a lioness at her side. He followed them, moving as silently as the owl, as swiftly as the jackrabbit, and with all the cunning of the fox, so that neither woman nor lioness saw him. As he watched, his sister the Sphinx spoke in a language he had never heard, and with each word her body became more like a lion’s, ’til finally two lionesses walked in the woods.

The two lionesses roamed the woods together for hours, and all the while the Jackfish kept them in sight, never making himself known. At last his sister stopped to drink, and the other lioness was alone for a moment. The Jackfish slipped up beside the lioness and spoke softly, so his sister would not hear. “Forgive me, lioness, for coming upon you suddenly, but the woman who walks with you as a lion is my sister. I know she was taken by the Sorceress when we were yet infants, but I do not know what end you serve. I can only hope I have not betrayed myself in seeking your council.”

The lioness, as much as a lioness is able, looked amazed to see Jackfish Crow, and for a moment she could say nothing. But then she spoke in the language of the lions and she said, “Oh, my son, I have not seen you in so long. I wish I could do more to bring you to your sister, but my duty now is to serve the Sorceress. You see what she has made of me. I promise I will never harm you, but that is all I am able to do.”

The Jackfish could already hear his sister’s approach, so he could ask no more questions. He put his arms around his mother, the lioness, and then he was gone back into the forest. When the Sphinx returned to her mother’s side, it was as if no one was there at all. She asked, “Mother, why are you so sad? I thought you loved our days together.” Her mother smiled and said, “I do, my daughter. I was visited by a sad memory while you were away. Let us return you to the castle for the day; it grows late already.”

The Sphinx and the lioness returned the way they had come, and the Jackfish watched them go from the shadows. He did not sleep that night, but lay awake contemplating what his mother had told him. The next morning, he found a clearing in the woods where he could see the castle on the mountainside. He sat on a fallen tree in the clearing without moving, doing nothing but watching the castle walls with a hawk’s eyes. Some time later, he was rewarded as he saw two great eagles take flight from one of the castle windows. He immediately recognized one of the eagles as his sister, by the way she moved, and by the sound of her cries. He did not know who the other eagle might be, so he rushed through the woods after them, moving as swiftly as the dove in flight and as tirelessly as the wolf hunting its prey.

The two birds flew together for many hours, but at last the Jackfish’s patience was rewarded, as the eagle which was not his sister seemed to tire, and it flew down towards the forest. The Jackfish stood in the shadows of the tree where the eagle landed, and marveled at its size. He had never seen any eagle so large as this, for it was bigger than most men. Nevertheless, he found his courage and spoke softly in the language of eagles, so that even his sister’s eagle ears would not hear. “Forgive me, eagle, for hiding from you here, but the woman who flies with you as an eagle is my sister. I know she was taken by the Sorceress when we were very young, but I do not know how she comes to fly with you. I can only hope I have not betrayed myself in seeking your council.”

The eagle stared at the Jackfish for what seemed like a very long time, but spoke at last. “Ah, my son, so you have found your sister at last. If I could carry you to her, I would, but I bound to serve the Sorceress. I will never harm you, but be warned that her bargains are hard. You see what debt I have paid her.”

The Jackfish could see his sister circling closer, thus he could ask no more questions. He bowed to his father, the eagle, and then was gone back into the forest. When the Sphinx landed at her father’s side, it was as if no one was there at all. She asked, “Father, why are you so somber? I was sure you treasured our flights together.” Her father nodded his head and said, “I do, my daughter. I was visited by an old memory while you were away. Let us return you to the castle for the day; it grows late already.”

The Sphinx and the eagle flew back to the castle, and Jackfish Crow watched them soar almost too high for him to see. He sat, with his arms on his knees, watching them fly through one of the castle windows, and he watched as the sun fell behind the mountains. He did not sleep, and so he saw the lady night as she unfurled her black cloak across the sky and opened her eye to look down upon the rocks and the trees. When the world was silver all around, the Jackfish stood and walked to the end of the forest at the base of the mountain. He found a cave at the foot of mountain, as he knew he would, for it was one of the secrets of the doors told to him by the hawk.

He entered into the cave and followed the secret path, just as the hawk had told him. The moonlight was soon swallowed up, but his feet already knew how to follow the path, and he saw the way even in darkness as well as any hawk. He did not know how long he walked in the darkness, for when the sun and the moon and all other forms of light have gone, there is nothing to measure time but distance, but when he felt the cool metal of a doorknob under his hand he did not hesitate to open it.

The stone hall was softly lit, and he saw the stars in one high window. There were hangings on the wall with years of dust on them, portraying scenes like the stories from the distant ends of the world the birds had told him. Yet the hangings were much older than any of the birds, and the stories they told were not quite the same as he remembered. Other hangings were just as old, but told stories which were not so very old at all. Jackfish Crow saw nothing else besides the tapestries in the hallway, nor had he any idea where his sister might be found. Having no direction, he asked the door. He did not know the language of doors, but he knew their secrets. Therefore, he spoke in the language of the ravens, which is the most widely spoken language in the world, and said, “My eternal pardons for this intrusion, but I seek the lady of this castle, the lioness and the eagle, the one who is called the Sphinx. Might I ask through what door she passed most recently?”

“A fine evening to you, young man,” said the door, who was rarely addressed and thus pleased by the company. “I have not seen her pass this way, but hold yourself a moment and let me inquire of my cousins. Perhaps they know where she is.” The Jackfish said, “Of course,” and gave the door a proper bow from the hips. Some minutes went by, during which the Jackfish listened to the faint creaking and groaning of the walls settling. At last the door spoke once more, saying, “She has eaten and gone to her room in the high tower, which she likes because it is so close to the moon. She may be there until morning, or perhaps only a moment longer.”

“You have my thanks,” the Jackfish said to the door, and gave it another bow, before setting off into the castle to find the highest point. He went up one winding stairway after another, following the scent of the moon just as he learned from the owls, until his long legs carried him into a hall where the no small number of the Sorceress’ retainers seemed to be waiting.

One, who bore the head of a bull and the body of a man, saw the Jackfish as he entered and barred his path. “Who are you? None but the servants of the Sorceress are permitted here; all others are forbidden to come here!”

“Well then,” said the Jackfish, “I must not be forbidden.”

The other servants of the castle turned at the bellowing from the bull’s head to see the strange man with his pale eyes and disarming smile, some of them showing curiosity, others displaying their teeth. “How, then?” asked the bull, fixing the Jackfish with coal black eyes. “I have never seen you here before, so you cannot be one of our lady’s servants.”

“Oh, no,” said the Jackfish. “If I am here, I must not be forbidden, or else I would not be here. So I must belong here, or else I would never have come here.”

The bull looked to the other servants, but neither did he find any answers upon their features, thus he had nothing else to do but to step to the side and allow the Jackfish to continue on his way. He crossed to the end of the hall, and stopped at door to the highest tower, which was locked, but the door recognized the Jackfish from his cousin’s description. Knowing all these things, the door opened when he turned the handle. He ascended the stairs, and the door was locked once more when he closed it behind himself.

There were many other rooms in the tower. He saw a room of precious jewels, and a room of gold, and a room of silver, but he had no desire for any of these things. He did not spare a second glance for the rooms, but went up and up the winding stairwell until there was a single door remaining. The door, he saw, was unlatched. It swung into the room at the touch of his fingers, and the Jackfish followed after its invitation.

He entered a room bathed in moonlight. Windows opened all four walls of the tower to the night sky, interrupted only by the doorway. Even the roof stood open to the sky, so that moonlight pooled in the center of the room, where the Sphinx lay on a bench as if she were bathing. She said, “The doors and the walls told me of your approach. I have your face in the mirror already, yet I still do not know your name or who you are.”

Jackfish Crow walked in a circle around the Sphinx and said, “Well, my father is Crow and I am called the Jackfish. I have seen the far ends of the world and heard all the stories of men. I have come back to the forest and my home to find my sister, as I knew I must.” His circling came to an end as he stood before the Sphinx and her bench. “And do you recognize me now?”

The Sphinx laughed and stood up from her bench. She circled the Jackfish, as he had circled her, smiling her enigmatic smile. Her eyes matched his, glittering. “It is true my father is a bird, but he is not so dark as Crow. And were you hatched from an egg? Surely not.”

The Jackfish let the moonlight play in his hand, and the Sphinx saw his fingers were long and fine, like as her own. “Ah, well, you speak of those who raised you. We are bred from the same stock, but my father was Crow. I learned the stories of all the birds, and all the stories from the ends of the earth, but there is a yet another story beyond all of these. Yours is the last story I have to learn. I had seen you every day in the mirror before ever I had seen your face.”

The Sphinx said, “You are clever and charming enough. I knew you for my own blood from the start by your face and your carriage, but I confess I was not so sure of your thoughts. Now I know we are sister and brother, and it lightens my heart that I am not the only one of my kind. For tonight, let us watch the moon and the stars, and tomorrow we may speak to the Sorceress.”

Thus Jackfish Crow and the Sphinx watched the moon and the stars, and neither of them slept that night, as they did not sleep on any night. The stars moved across the sky and, seeing them, the Jackfish and the Sphinx followed the dance of the lady night. It had taken the Jackfish some few hours to find his way from the forest into the highest tower of the castle, so it was not many more hours before the lady Night closed her eye and wrapped her cloak about herself, and let rosy dawn reach across the sky.