The sphinx, Khofrah, tossed her ebony hair over one shoulder, readying herself for a battle. A battle of wits, maybe. She blinked her brown eyes at Inna, who stared back with a kind of impatient indifference that made the courtiers at her father's palace uneasy. However, who was she to assume a centuries-old creature would bend like those weaklings?

She cracked her knuckles. A wicked grin curved her lips. "Bring it on, Guardian."

Arran shuffled closer, stooping his head to whisper in her ear, "I hope she doesn't eat us if we fail to solve her riddle." His breath warmed the side of her neck, yet sent a shiver down her spine.

She shrugged to hide it and chuckled. "We won't fail. We can't."

"You didn't deny my fear about being eaten alive."

"My diet mainly consists of juicy birds and crispy scorpions," Khofrah interrupted. She put on an innocent smile when Inna and Arran both looked up, startled. "Humans just smell so bad. Sour like sweat and bitter like the lotions they smear on their skins to hide their stench."

"Good to know that," Inna replied, inclining her head in a polite gesture to hide her discomfort. "Now let's hear that riddle, shall we?"

Pleased, the sphinx lifted her chin high and cleared her throat. "You never see me in broad daylight, for when I come I bring eternal night. I appear to each person in a different way, and make no difference between young and gray. Some welcome me with open arms, those are the ones I will bring no harm. Yet those who struggle to come along, their fear will not be proven wrong."

Arran's forehead creased. "Could you repeat that?"

Khofrah did, with endless patience, yet Inna had stopped listening to her. Pacing back and forth, she analyzed every single word of the riddle in an attempt to find the meaning behind them. Eternal night. Unseen in the sun. More than one answer fit that description: sleep or darkness itself, to name a few. She continued with "sleep", pleased when she found that it more or less matched the next lines as well. Everyone slept, both young and old. Fearful people suffered from regular nightmares, which might explain the last part about punishing those who feared the riddle's subject.

With growing enthusiasm, she turned to Arran. "I think I know," she said, quiet enough so the sphinx would know this was not their definite answer yet.

He arched his brow. "That fast?"

She nodded. "Sleep. Think about it. It can't be anything else, can it?"

A few seconds went by. She tapped her foot, her stomach churning. "I'm not convinced," he finally answered. Her face darkened. "No, listen. It's a good suggestion, but I think it's too vague. How would you explain the part about appearing to each person differently?"

"Well, every person dreams, but the dreams themselves are different for each individual." There was an edge to her tone. Already, doubt trickled into her mind, and it irked her that Arran was the one responsible for it.

"Sleep and dreams are two separate concepts," he countered, sounding more confident with each word he spoke, whereas she relapsed into a sullen silence. "And it doesn't really fit the part about struggling to come along, don't you think?"

"Fine," she grumbled and pursed her lips. "If you have a better idea, please be my guest."

"You don't have to get all cranky about it. Everyone makes mistakes, Inna. Including princesses. It's not a sin."

She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth, all too aware of his intentions to get under her skin. "Just shut up already and start thinking, all right?"

"Take your time," Khofrah cut in, cheerful as ever.

Inna huffed the annoyance out of her system and repeated the riddle over and over again in her head, searching for more clues. The sun crept closer toward the horizon, ready to switch places with the moon, yet she remained at a loss for further ideas. The lingering heat made her brain slow and lazy.

Frustrated, she slid down along the carved door of the pyramid. The sand was surprisingly cool, protected from the sun's warmth by the wide archway. Arran dropped down beside her. She tried to ignore the way her skin warmed and tingled where their thighs touched.

To distract herself, she spoke her thoughts out loud for the umpteenth time. "Eternal night. Appear to each person. It's obviously an abstract, timeless concept that everyone knows, a part of life. Some fear it, others don't. It takes people away?" Her voice went up at the last word, turning it into a question.

Arran pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "You're not exactly helping me concentrate, you know. Habi Onshra, I'm starting to think we'll never guess the right answer."

"I'm helping me concentrate," she retorted. "And don't say such things. It brings bad luck." She scratched Zazi's chin. "Zazi, what do you think?"

The snake flicked her tongue. Instead of answering, she stared intently at Arran, as though he were the key to solving the riddle. He didn't notice, too preoccupied with wiping his nose with the back of his hand. When it came back, crimson was smeared across his skin.

"Gods, Arran, you're bleeding!"

He waved away her concern. "It's just a nosebleed. Nothing too serious."

Her heart clenched. The curse was no longer a dark border around his aura; the shadows had started their invasion at Death's unhurried pace, consuming the bright orange with a steadfast determination. How much time did they have left until the last bit of light had disappeared into permanent darkness?

She stopped at that thought. Zazi's head hovered at the edge of her vision and she turned her head to look her friend in the eye. If snakes had been able to roll their eyes, she was sure Zazi would have done so. "You sneaky little genius," she said, grinning.

Arran frowned, yet a second later, realization dawned on his face. "Oh. Well, that makes sense."

Khofrah cleared her throat to capture their attention. "I feel you've riddled out the mystery—forgive me for the pun. Tell me, whom or what have I described to you?"

Inna and Arran traded a brief glance. He nodded at her and she gave him a careful smile in response. "Death," they both said at the same time.

Khofrah jumped up, startling them, and stretched her hind legs. Her fur turned to solid gold in the sunlight. "Death? Is that your final answer?"

Inna bit her lip. It was the perfect solution: eternal night could be a metaphor for being death. Death was the only certainty in life. Most people died when they were old and gray, but not everyone. Only the ones who had lived a life of evil and disrespect should fear death.

Inna pushed herself up and pulled Arran along with her. "We're certain."

The sphinx bared two rows of sharp, needle-like teeth in a smile which was halfway between beatific and repulsive. "Congratulations! Your guess is right. The pyramid will now open to you."

Indeed, the massive stone wall rumbled and rattled as an ancient mechanism sprang to life. The runes carved into the entrance lit up with a bright, white light. A gentle breeze swept past Inna's neck and she shivered. A dark, gaping hole opened up before them, the mouth of a giant beast, with nothing but mystery on the other side. It breathed out dank, putrid air that made her scrunch up her nose. Copper cogwheels flashed like rotten teeth in the dark.

All of a sudden, she understood why so few souls had dared enter the pyramids to loot their treasure. Every fiber in Inna's body screamed to turn around and flee.

She licked her lips. "Just one more thing," she said, meeting the sphinx's brown gaze. "What can we expect to find in there?"

She giggled. "Depends on what you are looking for."

A cryptic answer. Perfect. Inna pressed her eyes closed not to roll them out of their sockets.

"We're looking for whatever Prince Rabyatt was looking for," Arran cut in. "You promised to tell us what that was if we solved your riddle."

"I didn't promise you anything, misha," Khofrah replied sweetly. "Nevertheless, you have proven yourselves worthy of access to the pyramids. I suppose I could answer one teensy little question for you."

Be smart in the way you formulate that question, Inna told herself. She won't give you any more information than that which you literally ask for.

"With what treasure did Prince Rabyatt walk out of this pyramid?" she asked.

Khofrah swished her tail. "He went in with a stone," she mused, her eyelids fluttering. "And he came out with that same stone, though its essence had changed. The other objects which he took were quite useless." She winked. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Not in the slightest, Inna wanted to snap at her, but she bit her tongue. Stone? Useless? Hadn't Rabyatt found the Sphere of Truths at Afthar The Sane's grave after all? Had they been wrong all this time?

Khofrah's mention of a stone rang a bell at the edge of her memory. Inna traced the contours of the amber soulstone in her pocket. There was a vital truth here, just out of her grasp. If only she could figure out what it meant ...

"Thank you," she said, bowing her head.

Khofrah returned the gesture, then spread her wings, which spanned the entire width of the archway. Wind slashed at their faces as she took off into the air. Inna stayed where she was for a moment, craning her neck to stare at the spot where the sphinx had vanished, her form embraced by the thickening twilight.

A hand brushed the small of her back. "We should go in," Arran whispered, leaning a few inches closer than necessary. It reminded her of when they had first arrived at the pyramids, and how she had thought about kissing him right after crying in his arms. Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory.

Bracing herself for the adventure ahead, she turned to him and clasped his shoulder. "Show me your skills, thief."

His handsome face broke into a mischievous grin. The butterflies in her stomach freaked out. "Follow me, princess. Let's teach this pyramid a lesson." He picked up the flying carpet from where they had dumped it on the ground, her duffel bag filled to the brim with food wrapped in it, and marched inside the pyramid.

His optimism was contagious, yet cold, slick fingers scratched down Inna's spine as the door rose from the floor behind them and locked them in the darkness.