“A... I'm sorry, I'm not sure what that means.”

“Like me.” The necromancer's words were almost incomprehensible, sieved between clenched teeth. “Like a pot everyone pisses in. I can feel it... the weight of hundreds of other bastards' sins crammed into-”

“Pang Yau.” Sou Yuet's green-black eyes came into view.

“Sorry...”

“That's not what I'm asking for. But this woman is suffering right here, right now.” The monk squeezed the necromancer's big hands. “I'll try to talk to her.”

The scapegoat turned her flat brown eyes to the monk as they smiled pleasantly at her. “Hello, madam. Do you speak Common Tongue?”

Her bruised lips cracked again as she tried to speak, so Sou Yuet offered her some more water. She turned her face away.

“Please.”

Still, she stubbornly closed her eyes and refused to even look at the water gourd.

“I'm sorry, Pang Yau, but do you think you might know why she's doing this?”

The necromancer's jaw clicked. “Guilt.”

“As in, she thinks she must have done something wrong to deserve being treated this way, so she's going to continue to allow herself to be punished?”

“... Yes.”

Sou Yuet's brow crinkled. “What if she did do something wrong?”

“Are ye saying it's right, what they've done to her?”

The monk seemed to be chewing their own tongue.

“Do ye think what was done to me was right? Or what was done to you?”

“What are you talking about? Nothing was done to me. No one ever hit me or forced me to take their... sins?”

“Even yer parents?”

“My parents just ignored me,” Sou Yuet explained cheerfully. “As far as I remember.”

“And that's not passing their sins on to ye?”

“... Is it?”

“I'm asking you, ye damn mo- Oi! Come back!”

The woman had begun to try to quietly slip away, but at the necromancer's shout, Sunny pounced before her. She recoiled in fear.

Sou Yuet hopped lightly overhead to reach Sunny's side. “It's okay, she won't hurt you. I'm Yì Fēng.” They pointed to themselves. “Yì Fēng . What's your name?”

Sou Yuet's peaceful little smile seemed to calm the woman somewhat, although she was still reluctant to speak. She was offered the water again, and this time, she finally took it, at first sipping distractedly while her eyes darted between the three strange figures around her, and then more easily as it seemed that no one was going to attack her.

“Ye got a name?” the necromancer tried again. “Name?”

The woman stared at her, wide-eyed, for a moment, then shook her head.

“Not surprising.”

“What do you mean, Pang Yau?” Sou Yuet asked, thoughtfully rubbing the leaf of a stunted olive tree next to them between their fingers.

“What's the point of a cesspit having a name? People like us... things like us... have no need for names.” Her eyes turned to the monk, her voice soft. “Did yer parents ever give ye a name, Ah Yuet?”

“It's alright, Si fu gave me a name.” Sou Yuet offered the woman a little bread that they had saved from their lunch. “And he's the only one that matters, right?”

“Ha...” the necromancer watched the woman eagerly grab the bread. “Ye're right. Ye're right... What should we do with this woman? She's gonna have a hard time, now that she's like this. She might not last long.”

“You did, though.”

“I'm tough.”

“Perhaps we should ask the person who's been watching us.”

“What?”

The necromancer whirled around. All she could see were her two human and one animal companion, some olive trees, and a lot of rocks.

“They're over that hill.”

“How did ye know that?”

“The trees told me.”

“... What?”

“Plants communicate, through their roots, through chemicals in the air. The ones on the other side of the hill told the ones here that there's someone near them.”

“And ye're intercepting their messages? Isn't that kind of rude of ye?” the necromancer joked weakly.

“Plants have a different concept of privacy.”

“... I'm not even going to try and work out what that means.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well, it means there is someone on the other side of the hill.”

“...Someone favourable? Someone not so favourable?”

“No idea. Plants have a different concept of favorability. Although...” Sou Yuet closed their eyes, a listening air settling around them. “The plants don't seem to be worried at all... which means we should probably be concerned.”

“How did ye come to that conclusion?”

“I think our audience likes meat.”

“Sunny. Over the hill. Now.”

The necromancer and the si dzi charged up the rocks and disappeared out of view. A deafening silence was left in their wake.

“Excuse me, madam.” Sou Yuet gallantly scooped the woman into their arms and skimmed their way up the slope after the others. The monk reached the crest, and the two of them examined the scene before them.

Sunny was crouched quizzically, looking ready to leap but not sure whether she should. The necromancer looked equally dumbfounded, almost panicked. She turned her face desperately towards Sou Yuet, away from the figure that lay calmly on a large rock before her. A figure with a proud man's face and thick, curly black hair. A figure with a lion's golden-brown body, the tail twitching lazily. A figure with a pair of fine brown wings lazily shielding the main body from the sun.

“Monk,” the necromancer groaned, “he wants me to solve a riddle.”

“Okay?”

“I don't know how to solve a riddle! What do I look like, a bhard?”

“Well, maybe our friend is lurking around somewhere nearby. He does seem to be stalking us an awful lot.”

They paused, necromancer and monk both.

“Did ye just scan around with yer tree sense thingy?”

“I did. Did you just try speaking to any spirits around here?”

“Yep.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Nothing?”

“Nothing. How about we just make our apologies and leave?”

The man-face on the lounging creature smiled. His teeth were lion's teeth. “If you can't answer my riddle, I will eat.”

“Eat... us?”

“Correct.”

“Was that a riddle answer?” Sou Yuet asked brightly. “Alright, let's go.”

The creature laughed. “You can leave, if you like.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“But I will eat the next human that passes my way without even giving them a chance to bargain for their lives with a riddle.”

“Oh. That's not so good.”

“For feck's sake... Just eat one of those hippie-things if ye're that hungry.”

“A hippalektryon?” the creature mused. “They're far too rare, since that fox came by with his strange wooden servants.”

“So Lí really was here.” Sou Yuet jumped lightly down to join the necromancer and Sunny, placing the woman they were carrying securely next to the si dzi. “Could you tell us about what happened?”

“Hm...” The man-lion seemed to be considering this request, yawning to show off his sharp teeth once more. “Answer my riddle first.”

“I'll give ye a fecking ridd-”

“What was the riddle, honourable sir?” Sou Yuet asked, with their best smile.

The man-lion smiled back. “I picked something that I thought was appropriate, given your conversation from before. 'I give others power over you. I tell others who you are. I sound sweet on the lips of a lover. I can bite from the lips of an enemy. What am I?”

“That's actually a very good question, sir. What... exactly are you? I've never seen one of your kind before.”

The man-lion's smile grew even wider, wider than should be possible for a human-sized mouth. “Your answer first, little healer.”

“A name, of course.”

“Gah, of course!” The necromancer scowled furiously. “I hate tests, me brain always gets scrambled at the last minute.”

“Maybe you should try drinking some chamomile tea before a test.”

“I didn't exactly have time to drink tea before this, did I?”

The man-lion laughed again, this time in apparent entertainment, and stretched, revealing long legs and sharp claws. “I made that far too easy, didn't I? Well, to answer your questions, I am a sphynx. As for the fox-man, he was here perhaps a month ago. He brought along some strange things, spirits that smelt of wood, and they hunted and caught all the hippalektryon they could find.”

“He killed them?”

“No, they were alive.” The sphynx sniffed the air. “You're another strange group. A healer from the eastern reaches of the Jade Road. A death-diviner from over the western seas. A local pharmakós. And... hm... are you a dog or a lion? You smell like both.”

Sunny wuffed haughtily.

“I see.”

“Excuse me, Sir Sphynx. What is a pharmakós?”

The sphynx settled down again, an eager smile on his face. “Let's see now... I believe your friend here used the word 'scapegoat'? Many towns around here ensure their safety and prosperity by electing an annual pharmakós. They find some poor soul, usually a beggar, or a criminal, or some other equally unvalued human, and pile all of the ills of the town on them, and then they drive the creature out of the town, usually with sticks and stones. Well, the lucky ones, that is.” The sphynx blew a lock of hair out of his face. “Some places, they set fire to them or throw them off cliffs.” He eyed the seething necromancer with mild curiosity. “I can see you've experienced something similar. I'm not sure exactly what you went through, but you seem to be alright.”

“She's tough,” Sou Yuet said. “But we're not so sure about this woman. You said the lucky ones survive... but then, what do they do? She's clearly been cast out. I don't think she has the strength to go on by herself.”

The sphynx rose and stretched again, then trotted over to the woman as she lay against Sunny's side. There was a dull fear in her flat eyes, but she seemed resigned to whatever would happen to her next.

The sphynx sniffed her. “Yes, she'll be dead within a day if you leave her.” He turned to look at the grim faces of the witch and the monk. “Why are you so concerned? You don't even know this woman.”

“T'isn't right,” the necromancer mumbled.

“Maybe... I wonder... Perhaps... This might be perfect...” The sphynx's smile of lion's teeth returned. He spoke suddenly to the woman in her own tongue, and slowly, she began to answer him, as if she were relearning the shape and feel of words as they emerged from her mouth. Her expression grew more animated, too. At last, a spike of anger flashed across her face, provoking a huge grin from the sphynx.

“It's settled. The woman will stay here, with me.”

“That was sudden,” Sou Yuet observed, as the necromancer stared in disbelief. “If I may turn this sentiment back on you... You don't even know this woman. Why are you helping her?”

“Well, with the hippalektryon gone, it's so hard to find a decent, nutritious source of meat,” the sphynx began languidly.

“So you're going to eat her?”

“No. But she says she can cook and I really do like a cooked meal. Have you ever had souvláki?”

“Not... that I'm aware of.”

“I have, once. Lovely skewers of meat. Wrap it with some bread and grilled vegetables, delicious. I had it once when I scared a food merchant and his customers by accident. It just looked so inviting. And, you know, with pork being so similar to human meat...”

“No, I didn't know, actually.”

“Well, my new friend here can help me realise a culinary dream,” the sphynx concluded.

“She's cooking humans into this soub... souf... this food, for you?” Sou Yuet summarised.

“Precisely. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.”

“And... she's okay with that?”

“Why not?” the necromancer interrupted. “A townload of people, some of them maybe her own relatives, or friends, just fecked her over. Why would she care? It really is perfect.”

“But that's not... I see.”

The sphynx cocked his head and looked from the necromancer to the monk and back again. “What's your relationship, exactly?”

“None of yer business.”

“Will you be coming back here any time soon?” The sphynx nudged the woman to stand in the shade of his wings.

Sou Yuet and the witch looked at each other. “We're not sure.”

“Hm. Well, please do. And when you do...” That now familiar ear to ear grin split his face. “You'd better have an answer to that riddle, or I'll have my new friend make you into souvláki.”

“What... What riddle?”

“What's your relationship, exactly?” the sphynx repeated. He bumped against the woman so that she fell over his back, and stood. “I'm looking forward to your answer!”

His wings beat the air, and despite the unlikely combination of man, lion, and bird, he rose gracefully into the air, disappearing quickly into the distance.