Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

Jack tried not to stare in at the thing confronting him: a giant of a man in ornate bronze armor, with the head of a bull. That was the thing that bothered him the most. Not the armor. Not the massive axe. The animalistic head. He forced himself to draw a deep breath. "What is it with pyramids and animal-headed humans?"

The minotaur glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What?"

"I mean, mate, which one are you? I've met some cat-headed woman named 'Bastet', and a jackal-headed bloke calling himself 'Anubis' - both of whom claimed to be gods, by the way - and so I'm wondering what your name is?"

"Make your choice," the minotaur rumbled.

"I mean, I did a little reading on Egypt after that, and saw pictures of a cow-headed woman, but..."

"COW?" The monster's roar of anger was very nearly a wave of concussive force in the narrow hallway. Bellowing in anger, the minotaur raised his axe and charged. Jack balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, then lept towards the beast-man's right side. The axe proved to be as unwieldy in the narrow corridor as he'd hoped, scraping and sparking against the wall as Jack squeezed between the oncoming minotaur and the corridor wall and then, as the minotaur tried to slow, sprinted down the hallway.

"There's never just two choices, mate," Jack called back, holding his hat on with one hand as he ran. Behind him, he could hear the beast trying to slow and turn, and he ran faster and harder.
 
The minotaur managed to turn in the tight corridor, limbs clicking and whirring in frustration as the gears worked furiously. Once he was turned around, however, he saw Jack sprinting down the corridor and the light from his torch moving quickly out of sight. With another bellowing roar of frustration, he charged after him. Each footstep made the floor around him shake and cracks appeared in the stone beneath him as he pursued his quarry. None had ever gotten past him, and he didn't intend this slip of a man to be the first. He raised his axe with a roar as he gained on Jack.

As Jack ran there were a few spots in the floor that had cracked or crumbled. The pyramid was obviously very old and in need of repairs. In the dim light he would also be able to see the occasional tile that differed slightly in color from the others around it. It was a sort of code to the guardians of the pyramid corridors, though most travelers were foolish enough to step in here without light and wouldn't be able to see the tiles which would lead to their doom. Close to each of these tiles, pushed up against the wall as though they had been an inconvenience, were skeletons. Some were whole, some broken, but around each were littered some sort of arrow or dart of some fashion.

As the minotaur gained on Jack he raised his axe with a roar, the floor still cracking with each thunderous footstep. Suddenly there was a loud crash as the floor beneath him crumbled away and he fell through. The mechanical monster was stuck up to his chest in the floor, his legs dangling in the air below, and though his axe was within reach it would only be of use should Jack decide to come near. With another roar of rage and frustration, in a last-ditch attempt to catch his quarry the minotaur threw his weapon at Jack's back.
 
Jack raced through the corridors of the pyramid as if the hounds of hell were after him. Which they weren't, not really. No, instead there was a monstrous thing with the body of a man and the head of a bull and the axe of a giant, and it was going to try and kill him if it caught up with him. All in all, the hounds of hell might have been the better deal. They, at least, probably didn't talk.

Something made a clicking sound underfoot, and Jack heard a snap and a hiss and saw a dart of some sort clatter against the wall just behind him. Another clicking sound, and another clattering dart. It was about now that Jack noticed the irregular color of some of the tiles, but he was going too fast to stop. And so he lept from stone to stone, hopping constantly, barely avoiding the darts by virtue of blind luck and his rapid progression through the hall. Behind him he could hear the thunder of the minotaur's hooves, and for half a moment he hoped the darts might fell the beast.

The clattering sound of dart tips on heavy armor dashed that faint hope. But then, he heard a thunderous crash and a roar of frustrated fury, and then there was no sound of oncoming hooves. So, gasping for breath, Jack turned and looked.

The minotaur was embedded in the floor, waving his axe impotently in frustration. Jack grinned, wobbled a little, and leaned forward. "You, my bovine friend, will always remember this day." He winked. "T'was the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow."

With another roar of rage and frustration, the minotaur threw his weapon. Jack hurled himself aside, hearing the great bronze weapon whistle and shear through the air before embedding itself haft-deep in the stone walls. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, he whistled low and long at the sight. "Maybe I should add animal-headed men to the list of things I should escape from before taunting," he murmured. "Along with witches."

Then, turning, he strolled deeper into the labyrinth.
 
The angry roars of the minotaur gradually died away. In its place was an eerie silence so deep it seemed to surround him. Every now and then there was a sound in the dark on the edge of hearing like the barest of whispers. Occasionally Jack would feel a whispy tendril of what one would think--hope--was a thin root of a plant pushing through from above in its search for water and nutrients. Then the next obstacle came.

First there was only a golden pair of eyes in the darkness. They didn't blink but only followed Jack in his progress down the corridor. As he came closer the light provided an outline then shone on its golden-brown coat. Its tail flicked back and forth as it considered Jack, laid across the hallway as it was and blocking any way around it. Its head almost reached the ceiling even as it looked down at him.

"You've gotten past the minotaur," the sphinx said, its voice soft and very matter-of-fact. "So you've proven yourself strong and quick. But only the truly worthy may pass me; you must prove yourself clever as well. Solve my riddle and I will stand aside and let you pass without harm. Get it wrong and I'll pounce and devour you, bones and all...and there's no getting away from me, you know." It smiled slightly. "Of course, you may turn back at any time and walk away unharmed. Though of course, I'm sure the minotaur would be none too pleased to see you again. Nasty temper, that one." Its smile widened a little.

It gave Jack a few moments to think things over, flicking its tail idly across the floor, before looking at him more intently. "So? Will you stay and solve my riddle?"
 
Once he was out of this one, Jack decided, he was done with pyramids. There just wasn't enough value in them. Nothing but throttling mummies and freakshow animal hybrids and the like. Certainly nothing like the treasures the books about Egypt had promised.

Case in point: having escaped a bull-headed man, he was now confronted by some sort of talking winged lioness with the head of a woman. And she was challenging him to a riddle contest. Which just showedwhyhe didn't tell Jenny s whole lot about his journies. She'd just assume he'd been drinking.

"Hmmm..." Jack temporized. "Let me think. Walk away, and deal with the minitart." That was what the bird-lion-woman had called the bull-man, right? "Or stay here and solve your riddle, or get eaten." He stroked his goatee, toying with the beads braided into it, then grinned.

"Ah, what the hell. Never let it said that Jack Sparrow walked away from a high-stakes contest. Ask your question, Madame Bird-Lion."
 
The sphinx was bad at hiding her snicker when Jack called the Minotaur a "minitart." She nodded as he went over his options: solve the riddle or get eaten. When he grinned at her, she smiled back in a dignified sort of way. She bristled, however, when he called her Madame Bird-Lion. She supposed he was trying to be respectful, but failed magnificently.

"I am a sphinx, thank you," she corrected. Her wings shifted indignantly before she cleared her throat.

"Only one color, but not one size,
stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies;
present in sun, but not in rain;
doing no harm, and feeling no pain.

What am I?"

The sphinx looked down at Jack, waiting patiently for his answer.
 
Jack gaped at tbe bird-woman, dumbfounded. What the hell did any of that mean? Only one color, stuck at the bottom, present in sun, doing no harm? What the hell? He'd only chosen this because he'd notrelished the thought of having to fight this ridiculous hybrid of a...

...of a...

God's blood, could it be that easy? He didn't think so. And yet... the absurdity of what he contemplated made him begin laughing. "I... thank you, m'lady," he managed as he laughed, "for your lovely bit of poetry. It very nearly distracted me from the answer."

He drew himself upright, grinning. "What are you? Why madame, you gave away the answer yourself! You..." and here he pointed dramatically with his left hand, "are a sphinx!"
 
The sphinx stared down at Jack. She stared for a few very long moments. Then...she smiled. And the smile became a chuckle. And the chuckle became a laugh as she shook her head and shifted her wings. Looking back down at Jack, still with a smile on her face, she contemplated him a few moments more.

"It isn't very often someone comes seeking to solve my riddles," she said at length. "The minotaur is far too good at his job for that. And for your cleverness I will give you a by and not eat you, but neither shall I allow you to pass. I wouldn't stoop to such treachery as that." Here the sphinx's smile dropped. "I am not a dumb animal, you know, and I know that you are not stupid either. You know as well as I that that was my riddle. Take your time, traveler. Take all of the time in the world that you need. I'll even repeat it for you if you wish." Her golden eyes glowed even in the gloom. "You may still walk away any time you wish, but I'll not let you pass without an answer to my riddle. A real answer."
 
"Well," Jack observed, laughing along with the sphinx, "you have to admit it was worth a try..." His heart wasn't in it, though. He was too busy eying the leonine form of the creature before him, and realizing how badly fucked he was if he got this wrong.

And not "fucked in a good way" either.

Leaning against the wall, he stroked his scraggly little beard and wracked his brain for an answer. After what felt like hours - although it probably wasn't - he was no closer. All he could think of was a quarter-ton of clawed carnivore, and the pretty human face didn't make it any better. It just made her and her shadow look even more horrifying.

Stupid man-animal hybrids. He wasn't sure which was wores. The ones with the heads of animals, or the one with a human head.

Her shadow... Jack eyed it carefully. Hang on...

He grinned.

"The answer's a shadow," he declared, resting his hand on his sword.
 
The sphinx inclined her head as though shrugging. It may have been worth a try, but had she been less lenient it would have gotten him killed. She watched the man as he fell back into thought. He had clever eyes hidden under all that jingle and muck, and though the sphinx's job was to guard she tended to route for her victims; unlike the minotaur, she was not clockwork but a living thing trapped in a space far too small. If she had nothing to guard, she would be free. When Jack leaned against the wall she laid her head on her paws, settling in while he thought. She was large enough that even laying down as she was it would have been impossible to jump over her or somehow sneak around her.

Jack seemed to have an epiphany. The sphinx raised her head and looked at him, waiting as he eyed her shadow. When he triumphantly exclaimed his answer, she smiled and bowed her head as she stood aside. She watched him walk past, but before he had gone too far she called after him:

"Before you go, have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" One man had once challenged her to a game of riddles and insisted on going first. That wasn't how these rules worked and since he'd failed his riddle she'd had to devour him before finding out the answer. It had bothered her ever since.

There were several twists and turns in the passageway that followed. It would go up sometimes then other times slope back down. Several times Jack took a wrong turn and had to backtrack after coming up against a wall. One of these wrong turns led to a dead end, though when he turned around to back track he found himself facing yet another wall where there previously had been none. There was snickering behind him.

"Can't go out that way," a reedy voice informed him. When he turned around there were two guards standing in front of two doors. The final two doors.
 
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" Jack echoed, clearly slightly baffled by the question. "I suppose it is because neither can brew tea." Then he doffed his hat. "Good day, Madame Sphinx."

Turning, he strode off into the labyrinth with a confidence he didn't feel. Gods. Monsters. Massive, ancient buildings. He was just a Dover ship hand - he wasn't made for this. What would be next? Cursed gold? Living skeletons? A kraken? Lost in these thoughts, he followed the left wall until he reached a dead end. Still muttering, he turned back the way he came.

Only to find a wall.

"Can't go out that way," called a high, thin voice.

Jack spun, finding two men standing before two doors. Neither of w"hich had been there before. Cautiously bowing, he , he asked "And you are?
 
"We're the guards! Thought that was obvious!" The twin men--or seemingly so, as their faces were hidden by old helms but their voices were identical--laughed at him again as the one who had answered him banged on his chest plate. The sound rang through the little room and was hollow, as though the suit had no body in it at all.

"You're close to what you seek--"

"--but you have to pick which door to go through. One leads to your goal--"

"--the other to an oubliette at the bottom of the pyramid. Nasty place, that."

"You can ask us only one question to decide which door to go through--"

"But one of us always tells the truth--"

"--and one of us always lies."

The two guards turned their heads to look at each other and laughed again. Indeed there were unmarked doors behind each of them, also identical. When they'd had their shared laugh they sobered and turned back to look at Jack expectantly. Or rather, it would seem to be expectantly since their expressions were hidden.
 
"One of you always lies, and the other always tells the truth?" Jack scratched his head, considering the question. "And I can only ask one question to decide which door to use?" He shook his head. "That's a good one, that is. That's a puzzler."

He paced back and forth for a moment. "I'm going to need more information, but I can only ask one question," he mused aloud. Suddenly, he turned and lunged forward. Before the right guard could react, Jack flipped up his visor and had a look inside. "Let's see if you've the head of a man in there, or the head of a beast."
 
Neither. There was no head at all inside the visor, and were Jack to look down he'd find no body either, nor were there wires or gears with which to make the suit move. It was, very simply, an empty suit of armor.

"Oi!" For an empty suit of armor--or indeed for even a full suit of armor--it was quite strong. It pushed Jack backwards several paces and drew its sword after flipping its visor back down. "Rude, that was! What if I went and took off your hat, threw it across the room, without so much as a how d'ya do? People these days!"

"No manners," the left guard lamented.

"None t'all," the right guard agreed tersely. "What're you on about anyway, eh?"
 
Jack staggered backwards as the empty suit of armor shoved him hard, then drew its sword. Empty armor. Just when he'd thought he'd seen it all, he was talking to - and being manhandled by - empty armor. What on earth was wrong with his world? "Rude, that was! What if I went and took off your hat, threw it across the room, without so much as a how d'ya do? People these days!"

"No manners," the left guard lamented.

"None t'all," the right guard agreed tersely. "What're you on about anyway, eh?"

He swayed a little, one hand raised in an odd little gesture as he struggled for balance. "Oh, just curious. I wanted to see your face, is all. But... I feel I must point out that this is hardly a fair contest at all." Both suits of armor made an indignant noise at that, but he pressed on. "You see, there is no question I can ask that will reveal the safe door. Assuming that there even is one."

The armors seemed to stare at him, radiating irritation. He pointed at one suit. "See, you said that one of you always tells the truth. And you," he added, pointing at the other, "said that one of you always lies. And that means that I can't trust either of you. Because if you're right," pointing at the first, "that means that you're the one that speaks the truth. But you can't be the one that speaks the truth, because he," pointing at the second, "would then be telling the truth by saying that one of you always lies. But, if you're the one that tells the truth, then he couldn't have said that. He would have had to lie, and swear that neither of you lies. But he told the truth about it, meaning he has to be the one that always tells the truth. Which makes you," pointing at the first again, "the liar. But then, you couldn't have told the truth about one of you always telling the truth."

Jack smiled. "So, this whole contest is rigged. Because, since the very foundations of the riddle are based on a false premise - that one of you always lies and the other always tells the truth, even though it is patently obvious that neither of you can be trusted to do that - there is no single question I can ask that will reveal the truth of which door I should take."
 
The armor creaked in irritation as Jack spoke. It seemed to them he was playing for time, which only served to further provoke their ire after he'd so rudely looked in their visors without asking. One had the urge to lunge forward and yank his trousers down, just to make a point. They looked at each other as he claimed that the contest was rigged before looking back at him and shrugging in unison.

"We dunno. We've never figured it out," claimed Right Armor.

"We just guard the doors," chimed in Left Armor. "Sure we know what's behind 'em, but we just know that one of us always lies--

"--And one of us always tells the truth." It was worth noting that while Right Armor had told him before that one of them always lied, he now claimed that one of them always told the truth. The riddle would be impossible to figure out.

"If you don't feel like asking a question, take a blind guess," suggested Left Armor with another shrug. "I'll tell you though, he's the one who always lies." His head inclined toward Right Armor, whose body language suggested scandal.

"I do not! I tell the truth!"

"Ugh! Such a lie!"
 
Doffing his hat, Jack scratched his head. This was ridiculous, yet another riddle that compared with the one the esfinks had offered. Only he wouldn't even have the non-visual queue of watching faces. He'd have to ask his question, take an answer, and hope the door didn't lead to destruction. Hardly a fair game.

Of course, when had fair ever been part of his life? No sense in crying over spilled milk. A man had to make his own luck. And fortunately, this required the sort of crooked logic he'd been using his whole life to get his way.

"Right," he finally said, pointing at Right Armor. "You there, let's see if this will work. What door would your mate here say I should take, if I were to ask him?"
 
The Armors watched Jack as he thought and seemed to be rather amused by it. When he asked Right Armor his question, he looked at Left Armor, as though not certain. After a moment he scratched his helm.

"Uuuhhrrrm..." Right and Left Armor leaned together and bent their heads in whispered conversation before Right Armor looked up at Jack. "His...?" the Armor suggested, as though unsure. He shrugged defensively. "Always been confusing to me, mate." Jack having asked his one question, both suits of armor stood there, staring at him, waiting for him to make his decision and not impeding his way to whichever door he chose.
 
Jack scratched his head, trying to parse the answer. As 'clear and unequivocal' statements went, a baffled little "his?" really didn't pass muster. But, as he'd learned early on, needs must when the devil drives. "So," he said, "you're saying that if I were to ask you to tell me which door he'd take, it would be his door?"

Right Armor nodded, a trifle hesitantly.

"So... let's work through this." He thought hard, and then began to speak slowly. "If you are the one that tells the truth, you'd tell me truth that he'd say to pick the left door. But he lies, so you'd be telling me truthfully what his lying answer is, making the left door dangerous and the right door safe. But, if you were the one that lies, you'd be lying about what door the one that tells the truth would say..." He thought again. "Meaning that you'd lie and say he'd tell me to take the left door. Which makes that dangerous. Sooo..." he pointed. "The right door is the safe one."

He bowed grandly. "Therefore, I choose the right door. Would you open it for me, Master of the Right?"
 
Right Armor shuffled a little, sort-of baffled at being called "Master". He tipped a confused bow back at Jack before opening the door and standing aside.

The hallway beyond was...surprisingly normal. Well, not entirely. As Jack walked down the hall torches lit themselves in their brackets, but apart from that nothing jumped out at him, nothing challenged him to combat or to riddles. It was simply...a very long hallway with a door at the end. The door swung open of its own accord as well.

"I've been waiting for you, Jack Sparrow," came a voice from within.
 
Tense - and, truth to tell, more than a little worried - Jack stepped through the door. He'd had more than one brush with the supernatural where it had known his name in advance, and those had never been pleasant encounters. There was no reason to believe that this one would be any different. Particularly since, with his luck, it would be another ridiculous test of some sort. Poker with harpies, or checkers with a witch, or the like.

The word 'room' failed as a description as hesaw what lay beyond. He stood in an open area the size of a cathedral, watching water churn and froth as it gushed and fell like a waterfall from high up one walk to crash into the mostly flooded center. A walkway of great marble blocks surrounded that central pool, with cut steps leading down to the warter itself. Tile mosaics of the sea and animals beneath the sea covered the walls.

There was no sign of the speaker. Or, for that matter, of another door.

"Ah," Jack said, swaying to a stop and raising his arms. "I'm glad to hear that you know me, but I neither know nor see you. May I ask your name?"
 
"I go by many names." The voice seemed to come from all around Jack, from the very walls. "Vellamo...Tefnut...Salacia...Callypso..." A woman emerged from the pool. "But I find most mortals prefer to call me Tia Dalma." She smiled as her feet left the water and she stepped towards Jack. "I have been waiting for you, witty Jack. Many have tried to free me from my prison, but only you have succeeded. I have been trapped here for over a century."

Tia Dalma looked over Jack. True, he didn't look like the captain she'd been expecting but she wasn't exactly being picky. She drew out a compass and held it in her hand, showing it to him as though tempting a dog with a treat.

"The curse cast by the Brethren Court ensured that I cannot leave this prison alone," she said, "but guide our way out of here and this will belong to you."
 
"I go by many names." The voice seemed to come from all around Jack, from the very walls. "Vellamo...Tefnut...Salacia...Callypso..."

"And they're all a mouthful," Jack replied, watching a dark-skinned woman with thick, matted plaits of hair emerge from the pool. There was something wrong with her, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"But I find most mortals prefer to call me Tia Dalma."

"Really?" he asked, voice dry and sardonic. As her feet touched the stones, he realized what was wrong. She wasn't... wet. At all. Water should be beaded on her skin, and her hair and clothes should be plastered to her body. But... they weren't.

Still, that was hardly the strangest thing he'd seen in the past few months.

"Honestly," he continued, "that doesn't sound any better - or worse, mind - than 'Calypso'. But, I guess Tiadalma has a certain charm to it. So..." he grinned. "Tiadalma it is."

She smiled as her feet left the water and she stepped towards Jack. "I have been waiting for you, witty Jack. Many have tried to free me from my prison, but only you have succeeded. I have been trapped here for over a century."

"And what, may I ask, happened to those who failed?" Jack asked, then swayed a little and held up a hand. "No, no, never mind. It'll just depress me. But, it seems, I'm here - although you shoud know that, since I'm certain you sent the wind and waves that drove my ship north to this island. If you could do that, why couldn't you simply leave?"

"The curse cast by the Brethren Court ensured that I cannot leave this prison alone," she said, holding a compass out, "but guide our way out of here and this will belong to you."

Jack leaned forward, peering at the case. "So... I get you out," he said slowly, as if considering his words, "and you... give me a broken compass?" He stared at it again, watching the needle swing wildly without settling down. "I mean, look at that thing Tiadalma. It doesn't work. And I've got a perfectly functional compass aboard ship." Rocking back on his heels, just a little, he regarded the sea goddess thoughtfully. "You really do need to get out of here, don't you? A century in this pyramid has made you rubbish at barter."
 
The sea goddess grinned, showing dirty, browning teeth. "Yes it is true this compass does not point north," she admitted. "But you do not always need to find north, do you witty Jack? After all, the heart's true desire does not always lie in the north."

She waved it under Jack's nose for a few more moments before snapping it shut. "This compass will guide us out of here and then it shall be yours. But work quickly, Jack Sparrow. The wind drives strife ever closer to you." She smiled coyly and watched him, as though waiting for Jack to start leading the way.

~*~

Indeed even as they spoke Captain Teague landed on the quay and he disembarked, asking where the captain of the only other English ship in the harbor was. He came bearing Jenny's letter, penned over two weeks ago though Jack had been in Hyperborea only a day. Thousands of miles away his wife hadn't forgotten about the incident with the pirates and Ben, but she had finally stopped looking over her shoulder while she walked home. The day was finishing up and Jenny was wiping down the last table.

"Thanks for waiting for me, Ben," she said as she tossed away her rag, "but I don't think I'll need walking home anymore. We haven't been bothered at all...I think they're gone." Ben had been walking her and the children home at night since the incident, but her route home through Dover was starting to feel safe again. Jenny smiled warmly, glad to be feeling close to at least one of the Halliwells again. "It's been real sweet of you though. Thank you."
 
"The heart's desire..?" Jack echoed aloud, raising a finger to his lips in thought. "My heart's desire, Tia Dalma, is in Dover. And I'll not dispute that I've a desire to return there, nor claim that I've no wish to know the straightest path back." He reached out and plucked the compass from her fingers, then snapped it open and sighted along the needle. "So I'll guide you out. Not for you, but because I want to get home."

He followed the compass towards a different door than the one he'd entered, then stopped and turned. "But make no mistake, Tia Dalma," he added, swaying a little. "After that, I'm done with you. Finished. I've no interest in this absurd magical world, nor even in returning to the sea once more. My wife and my family need me, and there's nothing you nor anyone else can say to convince me otherwise!"


Ben shivered a little, feeling the warmth of Jenny's smile soak into his bones. "It's been my pleasure," he assured her. "I wasn't much help when those men tore up the tavern, but... well, I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you. And it's been no trouble at all."

He tried not to stare as she carried pushed the last of the chairs under the table. God, but John had been lucky when she agreed to marry him. Maybe too lucky. A man like him didn't deserve someone so wonderful and beautiful as Jenny Dolan, not when he was at sea all the time. Probably tumbling the whores in every port, too, then coming back to force himself upon...

He shook his head, and made himself look away. Squirming a little as his crotch grew hard and uncomfortable, bound in his breeches, he fought not to think about John and Jenny. Tried not to think of her, wanton and spread wide, firm breasts heaving as she... as John...

God. It was a sin - she was married - but he wanted her. He daydreamed about John's death at sea, about being the one to comfort her. Be there for her...

"Maybe..." he said, hesitantly, "well, there's a rough crew in port tonight. Privateers, in from the West Indies." He shook his head. "Let me walk you home one last time, just for my peace of mind? Beth's Hound is setting sail in the morning, and then it's just fishermen and the like."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom