I fell backward. I was ridiculously weak and I couldn’t control my movements. I felt no pain when I struck the floor, and it was a real effort to turn my head to regard her as she rose to her feet.
“Enjoy it,” she stated. “After you awaken, the remainder of your brief existence will be painful.”
She passed out of my line of sight, and moments later I heard her raise the telephone receiver.
I was certain she was phoning S, and I believed what she had just said.
At least, I would get to meet the mysterious artist . . .
Artist! I twitched the forgers of my right hand. They still functioned, albeit slowly. Straining every bit of will and anatomy that remained under my control, I tried then to raise the hand to my chest. The movement that followed was a jerky, slow-motion thing. At least I had fallen upon my left side, and my back masked this feeble activity from the woman who had done me in.
My hand was trembling and seemed to be slowing even more when it came to the breast pocket. For ages after, I seemed to pick at the edges of pieces of pasteboard. Finally, one came free and I was able to twitch it high enough to view it. By then I was very dizzy and my vision was beginning to blur. I wasn’t certain I could manage the transfer. From across a vast distance I could hear Jasra’s voice as she conversed with someone, but I was unable to distinguish the words.
I focused what remained of my attention upon the card. It was a sphinx, crouched upon a blue, rocky ledge. I reached for it. Nothing. My mind felt as if it were embedded in cotton. I possessed barely enough consciousness for one more attempt.
I felt a certain coldness and seemed to see the sphinx move slightly upon its stony shelf. I felt as if I were falling forward into a black wave that was rushing upward.
And that was all.
I was a long time coming around. My consciousness dribbled back, but my limbs were still leaden and my vision clouded. The lady’s sting seemed to have delivered a neurotropic toxin. I tried flexing my fingers arid toes and could not be certain whether I’d succeeded. I tried to speed up and deepen my breathing. That worked, anyway.
After a time, I heard what seemed a roaring sound. It stepped itself down a little later, and I realized it was my own rushing blood in my ears. A while after that I felt my heartbeat, and my vision began to clear. Light and dark and shapelessness resolved into sand and rocks. I felt little areas of chill, all over. Then I began to shiver, and this passed and I realized that I could move. But I felt very weak, so I didn’t. Not for a while.
I heard noises-rustlings, stirrings-coming from somewhere above and before me. I also became aware of a peculiar odor.
“I say, are you awake?” This from the same direction as the sounds of movement.
I decided that I was not entirely ready to qualify for that state, so I did not answer. I waited for more life to flow back into my limbs.
“I really wish you’d let me know whether you can hear me,” the voice came again. “I’d like to get on with it.”
My curiosity finally overcame my judgment and I raised my head.
“There! I knew it!”
On the blue-gray ledge above me was crouched a sphinx, also blue-lion body, large feathered wings folded tight against it, a genderless face looking down upon me. It licked its lips and revealed a formidable set of teeth.
“Get on with what?” I asked, raising myself slowly into a sitting position and drawing several deep breaths.
“The riddling,” it answered, “the thing I do best.”
“I’ll take a rain check,” I said, waiting for the cramps in my arms and legs to pass.
“Sorry. I must insist.”
I rubbed my punctured forearm and glared at the creature. Most of the stories I recalled about sphinxes involved their devouring people who couldn’t answer riddles. I shook my head.