Thank you Barking Lizards, Guest, Jett-Wolfe98, and mrdirtguy3 for the reviews! You all are awesome and I truly, truly appreciate and treasure the words you send! :)

Guest: You are wonderful! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I sincerely hope you continue to do both! You're awesome! :)

Now, I've done some reading about the sphinx, and it is so interesting! Its origins are not entirely Egyptian, contrary to popular belief, nor is it Greek, or Asian! Rumor has it it began in Ethiopia and somehow word of it sailed across the ocean to each country. But no one really knows! Regardless, each respective culture seems to have its own legend for the woman/lion/bird monster. The Greek Sphinx, as referenced below, has its own story, as do all the others I've mentioned. Check it out! :)

All original characters and storyline belong to Scott Westerfeld; I own nothing!

:)

"Can I take this off yet?"

"No!" he said, a bit louder than he intended. "We're almost there."

She smiled bemusedly from underneath the blindfold. "Are you sure we aren't lost? You Clankers never did have the best sense of direction."

Ernst ignored her banter and looked down at the compass. True, Clankers weren't known for their directional gifts, but one of the best things Father ever did for his children was make sure all of them knew how to read a compass properly. "Just a few more steps this way…" he said, leading Zethos by the reins. The horse snorted in protest: the poor creature was undoubtedly tired of pulling the caravan this way and that in the woods. He couldn't blame him, for the caravan was heavy with as many supplies as Ernst had been able to acquire: it was a long way back into town from where they would be. But they had to keep going if they were going to get there by nightfall: none of them wanted to sleep in the Black Forest unsheltered. Esmé twisted her hand in the horse's mane securely and followed. He stopped again after a few paces and groaned in frustration inwardly. If only he had spent the few coins it would have cost to have an actual map, not just one he had scrawled on the back of a piece of parchment.

"Ernst, you're holding it upside down," she said, sliding the blindfold away from her eyes. There was nothing for her to see anyway; they were standing in an unfamiliar part of the Forest. He flipped the practically indecipherable map over and realized that she was indeed correct.

"Oh! Is that it?" she added, turning around.

It was indeed. Ernst looked down at the map and back up again, not entirely sure how they had gotten there. It was a modest cabin, but Ernst was incredibly pleased with how it turned out. Small, single-story: it was the perfect size. There would only be two of them and a very small person, after all, and if they decided to expand their family they could easily expand the house as well… But that was all beside the point.

"Yes! There it is," he said, trying his best to sound as though he knew exactly where they were going the entire time. He glanced at her, trying to read her expression. When he had finished the house, he had been quite certain that she would find it an acceptable alternative to living in a cramped caravan. But now with the unreadable expression on her face as the fact that he had really left his family in Austria began sinking in, he felt a bit nervous and wasn't so sure.

"We can go inside," he offered. She nodded quite neutrally and followed him to the front door.

He unhooked the cart from Zethos and wrapped the horse's reins loosely around the tether. He opened the door, holding it for her. She passed through the doorway silently and moved to the side, waiting for him.

He led her around the house; explaining things here and there to her. She'd only nod after each of his explanations, quietly observing the structure and few adornments here and there. By the time they were back in the front door she hadn't said a single word; he was sure hated it.

"Esmé, I'm sorry if-"

"It's perfect," she interrupted. "I love it."

Relief washed over him. Not that he could have done much if she had hated it all together, but they were going to live there and he much would rather had her like the house.

"There's one more thing," he said, taking her hand and leading her out the door. They walked through the meadow for a good fifteen minutes before they reached it.

"Ernst, where are we-" Her words were cut short by a large smile spreading across her face. "I'd nearly forgotten," she said as she walked amongst the rows of cherry trees.

Uncle Max, the man from whom Ernst had inherited the land, had no idea where the trees had come from. It was odd in the first place that they were growing so well in the middle of autumn, but also that they had been planted in such a precise manner.

"It's a bit late in the season," he said. "But if we prune them they should come back in the spring."

She turned, holding a handful of the fruit, and smiled at him.

Volger rubbed his forehead. How Aleksandar was sleeping so peacefully was beyond him: was it really that strenuous in the kitchens? And Bauer as well; one would think had they been performing Herculean tasks during the day by their snoring alone.

Volger himself was unable to sleep for three reasons, the first of which was the incessant booming and thumping the waves made as the hit the sides of the ship. The crew had spent hours well after curfew combing the water for the creature that had upset Mr. Newkirk's boat, but it was nowhere to be found, so the Captain had sent everyone to bed.

And that was another factor to his sleeplessness: the burns on Newkirk's leg. Volger had unfortunately been in the same room as the doctor when Newkirk staggered in. The marks looked disturbingly similar to those Volger himself had received in Congo, when he and Deryn had gone through the lake in that underground cavern, and that thing (they never did find out what it was) had pulled him under. The Count didn't remember exactly what had happened other than being above the water one moment and being pulled beneath it the next. The taste of the stagnant water was awful and unforgettable, and it had been far too dark to see anything. But he did remember a burning sensation, though there were no marks upon his leg as severe as the ones that were on Mr. Newkirk's.

He'd spent the past few days in the bridge alternatively feeling seasick and studying the map. Not physically laborious work, but it mentally so. Trying to decipher the strange symbols and runes was confusing.

That was actually the third and final reason the Count wasn't sleeping: it bothered him so.

And there was one symbol in particular that he couldn't stop thinking of. He knew that he'd seen it before, but he couldn't remember where. It resembled a lion with a pair of wings and a human face. It was hideous, bizarre, and terrifying (if the map hadn't been so old, he would have accused the Darwinists of creating such a mutant), but whenever he came to it he couldn't look away. The more he tried to remember, the more distant the fragment of the memory became. And it was one of the many symbols yet to be interpreted, so none of the navigators that worked in the control room just next to where he was were any help.

Volger turned onto his side toward the wall in an attempt (entirely futile) to block out the snoring. Hours ago, he'd shoved the small bed he was sleeping in to the other side of the room, but it was to no avail, for as soon as he closed his eyes, that blasted loris (he still refused to acknowledge it by its supposed name) began grooming itself noisily.

He rolled over onto his back and thought of the picture again. It was, indeed, a riddle. Another wave slapped the side of the ship, right on the other side of the wall next to him. He sighed. He knew the idea of sleeping was far away and very likely tonight, so after a moment of debating, he decided to get up and be productive. He forced himself out of bed, not fond of the sharp feeling the chilly air brought on his skin, and dressed himself quickly. He slipped into his shoes and opened and closed the door with the softest click! possible, though he doubted anything louder would have woken Alek and Bauer up.

He stepped down the hall quietly and slowly; hanging onto the wall for balance. He'd made it about halfway when he stopped at the sound of the pitter patter of feet just behind him. He turned on his heel to confront the culprit but saw nothing. After a moment, a voice that sounded too much like Deryn's said, "Bum-rag," and he looked down to see that heinous abomination staring up at him smugly.

The Count furrowed his brow at the creature. "How did you get out here?" When he'd left, it had been intently preening itself without even noticing him moving about the room.

"Sneaking," it answered.

He narrowed his eyes at it. "Go away."

After a moment, it sat defiantly, gazing up at him with its beady eyes, and repeated, "Sneaking."

Volger growled in annoyance; he might have kicked it if it were closer. But he knew it enjoyed annoying him, so he decided not to give it the satisfaction and continued walking. He turned down the hall and went up the steps to the deck. It was quiet. A handful of sailors, presumably night watchmen, nodded at him.

"Trouble sleeping, there?" asked a rather portly man, sitting just a few feet away from where he was. His feet were propped up on a barrel and there were a dozen or so empty bottles beside him.

Volger raised an eyebrow. He could only guess what he had been doing. "I'm not the only one, I see. I thought the Captain had strict policy forbidding aboard this ship?"

The man chuckled and reached for a bottle. "Only milk, your Countship. It was about to go bad; care for some?"

"Ah, I see." He cleared his throat If you will excuse me, I will be on my way."

The man nodded. "Have a good night, sir."

Volger acknowledged him and carried on his way. Every step or so, he glanced over his shoulder to see the loris still in pursuit.

When he neared the bridge, he picked up his pace, opened the door quickly, and slammed it shut. He breathed a sigh of satisfaction, feeling quite good about his success. He pressed against the door once more for good measure and then took off his coat, draping it over a chair. He looked at the map on the wall.

This was the copy, of course: the original had been deemed too valuable to keep on display throughout the day, so it had been hidden. Luckily, Volger knew just where it was.

He brought out the heavy, long scroll case, popped off the top, gently lifted the paper, and rolled it out onto the table. Its yellowed, worn edges hung over the sides of the mahogany, just grazing the chairs seated around it. Volger scanned the document, going from the large lion to the cluster of trees to the strange beast that had been on his mind all day. He leaned over it to get a closer look.

The face definitely belonged to a woman; that, he was sure of.

His thoughts were broken when he heard a small thump! and turned. He felt his expression fall and temper rise as that creature trotted onto the table, seeming perfectly pleased with itself.

"Go away," Volger hissed through clenched teeth.

It made absolutely no effort to move but rather sat down right on top of the drawing Volger had been looking at.

Volger glared at it.

The loris stared back.

That irritated him. How was he supposed to get any work done with that thing in his way? He slid the map case on the table and rolled it in an attempt to force the beast off. The creature protested and complained, jumping over the case every time he'd roll it near. But eventually it gave up and bounded off the table and onto the floor.

"Thank you," he growled as he set the case into a chair and turned to look at the map again. He stared at the strange figure once more, trying to place it. But it wasn't just that that seemed familiar. The more he looked at the entire map, the more it seemed that he had looked at it before. The pictures of the sea creatures, the enormous lion, the ships that undeniably were Grecian; the way the entire thing was drawn had a sense of familiarity.

And on the bottom, the words, "ALL THAT REMAINS IS HOPE".

He read it silently to himself and jumped a bit when he heard the words echoed. He turned and looked at the creature scornfully as it seemed to smile at him from the other side of the table. It was a terribly human expression; one of the main reasons the Count didn't like fabrications at all. Animals were animals and humans were humans; the two shouldn't be combined. He thought of throwing it out again, but he didn't doubt it would simply find yet another way in. It was a sneaky beast.

The loris made a strange sound and a strange face to which the Count raised an eyebrow. The audacious beast stepped forward to the chair that held his coat, and with great effort, pushed his jacket straight onto the floor.

Volger growled as he bent down to pick it up, seriously contemplating tossing the wretched creature out of the window, when there was another sound; a tearing sort of sound. Volger jumped up to see what had happened and his jaw dropped in both anger and disbelief.

He would indeed be speaking to Aleksandar about the wild behavior in this creature exhibited; it was out of control! It slithered off the table before he could grasp it, and good thing: for it had torn a section of the map off. Volger could have skinned it alive.

But he didn't, for as he looked at the now-torn piece, he noticed that it seemed odd. It was far too smooth and not the least bit jagged as it ought to have been. Volger set his fingers to the edge suspiciously and brought them up to his mouth, licking his fingertip. Glue. This map had been torn and pasted back into place!

Then he remembered.

"Must we put it there?" he asked skeptically.

She dropped from her tip toes back onto her heels and smiled at him. "I think it looks nice."

He didn't. He found the strange creatures to be quite bizarre. He walked behind Esmé, putting his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. "As long as you like it."

She smiled again and nodded. "My mother gave it to me. It's the only thing of hers I have left."

"But what exactly is it?"

She shrugged and turned around, observing the large picture pinned to the wall. "She used to tell me when I was younger that it was a place full of wonder and magic. This is only a piece of it, though: if we put the whole thing together it would take up the entire wall!"

He still wasn't convinced of its appeal as she went about pointing out and naming each of the grotesque creatures. Perhaps once the baby was born, he could use the baby's repose as an argument to remove it. But for now it didn't bother him terribly. "All right, then. We'll keep it."

It was the sphinx; that was what the lion with wings and the woman's face was! Esmé had explained it to him years ago, though he'd only been half-listening. This was the piece that Esmé had hung in their house on the wall just above the mantel; the rest of it he had never seen before, hence why he couldn't recognize it right away.

This could be no coincidence. Granted, he hadn't exactly checked, but the day he went back to the cabin in hopes that she was still there, he didn't notice whether or not the scrap was still on the wall. But of course she would have taken it; it was the only thing she had of her mother's.

And she would have given it to their son.

Volger burst into the control room. Three bedraggled-looking men were turning knobs and taking notes while Haamid was sitting at the desk. "Who donated the map?"

Haamid looked up from what he was doing. "Pardon?"

"The map! Who gave to you?" he repeated frantically.

He looked at Volger skeptically. "I'm not allowed to divulge such information; I'm sorry."

Volger rolled his eyes in frustration. "I need to know!"

"Why is that?"

He swallowed. Until he was absolutely certain, he wouldn't divulge his scandal to anyone. "I need to know. Please."

Alek was lying on his bed quite comfortably with Bovril curled up on his lap. He'd woken up when Count Volger had slammed the door shut and couldn't get back to sleep. He had the lamp on his nightstand lit (he doubted that would wake Bauer up) and was perusing through one of the books he had taken with him to Japan, though while there he didn't accomplish any reading. The story was just getting interesting when the Count threw open the door. The man looked considerably more disheveled that Alek had ever seen him. He and Bovril sat up simultaneously.

"He's here."

"What?"

"My son."

"What do you mean?" Alek asked, fully awake now.

Volger paced the room. "The map, it belonged Esmé'."

Alek looked confused. "I thought she was a gypsy."

"A Greek gypsy," Volger corrected. "The map was her mother's; she must have taken it when she left. And she would have given it to our child-"

"How do you know?"

He looked at him. "She hung it in our house."

Bauer yawned loudly. "So we'll ask the Captain who gave him the map."

"Don't you think I already tried that?" Volger snapped. "These people and their sense of confidentiality," he scoffed. "He's here; he has to be."

"All right," Alek said, trying to restore some sense of calm into the room. Admittedly, however, he would probably be much more anxious if he were in the situation. "If he's here, Count, we'll find him."

Volger nodded at him and sat down, trying to regain his composure.

"Where should we start? Do you think the Captain would know?" Bauer yawned.

Alek shook his head. "I think I have an idea."