Thirty: Sphinx
A/N: I went with Egyptian Sphinx more so than Greek, due to their benevolent nature and the fact that the head is male, not female.
A/N 2: Okay everybody! This is the last one! I meant to upload it two days ago, and I thought I did and then I left for the weekend. BUT! Tell me what you though, and if you have any requests for a creature/sequel. I'm already working on a couple things, but I'd really like to hear what you thought of it.

Seriously. All he had to do was get the fucking milk. No epic quest for some stupid tome that supposedly held the answer to all the fucking questions in the world, no battling deadly creatures in his effort to get there, and certainly no answering stupid riddles! He hadn't signed up for any of it, so why the hell was he doing it?

Oh yeah, because the fucker held a knife to his sisters throat and threatened his family. Now he remembered. When he got back, that bastard was going to pay, dearly, and Puck would sell the thrice damned book to the highest bidder.

Ragged and exhausted after travelling a week nearly non-stop to his destination, Puck stopped short at the sight of a massive maze. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, adjusting his sword and ignoring the grumble of his stomach. The maze, as it turned out, had been marked by his knightly predecessors, and was therefore relatively easy to navigate, minus one or two unfortunate deviations. When he reached the massive, towering double doors with no resistance, he thought it was almost too easy.

He was right, of course.

"Now, now, it's rude to trespass into someones home without permission. Surely you know that." Puck groaned and dropped himself against the stone wall, letting his head slump forward.

"For fuck sakes, just let this be over already."

"Ah, you're one of those are you," a soft voice said, directly in front of him. Gentle fingers raised his chin to look into pale eyes.

"One of what?" Puck asked as the boy backed away, wings ruffling in the slight breeze that swept through the passages. Puck caught sight of a tawny tail flicking behind him.

"One of Ryerson's unwilling champions. Probably took your family hostage while the able bodied young man sets off to do his dirty work. The book is what you seek, correct?"

Puck stared, gaping slightly. "How the hell did you know that?"

"He's done it before. I always turned them away, hoping they would be able to reason with him, but the man is hell bent on believing I hold the secret to the world, written in ink on Papyrus. I never heard back from any of them, but I had hoped that Ryerson saw reason and let them be, only to find himself another to convince me. I understand now that that is not the probable outcome." Bright eyes stared at him while he spoke, hands clasped behind his back. "My name is Kurt, and I'll give you what you desire on one condition."

"Oh? And what's that?" Puck demanded.

"Answer my riddles precisely and I'll give you the powerless book that will save your families lives," Kurt replied.

"And just how many will that be?"

Kurt smiled. "As many as it takes to convince me."

"Wh-?"

"Which creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

"The fuck are you on? There's no creature I've heard of that does that."

"Is that your final answer? Think carefully on this. The times of day are metaphors, keep that in mind," Kurt said, perching himself on a large rock.

Puck thought. What could the times of day be metaphors for? The process of evolution? But he'd still never heard of a creature that walked only on three legs at their current state. What else...

A memory came into his mind, six months after his sister Sarah was born and she started crawling. His mother had screamed for Nana to, "come see, oh look how precious she is!", running out of the room while Puck played with his carved, homemade block toys. Nana and mom came back in as quickly as Nana Connie could hobble, her cane clicking against the stone floor. Her hip problem had starting getting so bad it was a necessity.

"Okay, I understand now. Humans do that. They walk on all fours as babies, walk on two in the prime of their lives, and use a cane when they get older." Noah watched a happy smile spread on Kurt's lips.

"Correct!"

"You sound surprised," Puck muttered, rolling his eyes. Kurt shook his head, one clawed hand waving.

"No, just happy. You'd be surprised how many people don't know the answer." Kurt motioned to another flat rock position across from his and Puck took a seat. "Give me food and I will live. Give me water, and I will die. What am I?"

"Fire," Puck answered immediately, remembering the sudden storm that had taken him by surprise and killed the blaze he'd worked so hard collecting wood for. Pissed him off.

"The man who invented it does not want it. The man who bought it does not need it. The man who needs it does not know it. What am I?"

Puck thought for a minute, searching his head for a clue. Another memory came to mind, of the funerl home across from his house. The coffin maker was selling one of his wares to a stone faced woman and a cart with a sheet covered body was awaiting its final resting place. It was to be a private ceremony, performed not twenty minutes after the purchase, Puck recalled. "A coffin."

Kurt nodded. "I can run but not walk. Wherever I go, thought follows close behind. What am I?"

Sarah came to mind. She had gotten a cold not too long ago now and her nose turned into a leaking snot faucet. Not to mention she constantly complained about how it hurt too much to think...

"A nose. Are we almost done here? I have a lunatic to beat down."

"One more for the road. You're doing so well, after all," Kurt said. "I am black and white and red all over. What am I?"

"Uhhh..." Puck dug deep, came up with nothing, and said the first thing that sprung to mind. "Sunburned penguin."

Kurt laughed and nodded. "Yes, that is one of the correct solutions. The others were an embarassed skunk, a painted zabra, or a newspaper. I'll collect your prize and let you be on your way. I've had enough entertainment to last me a while now."

"Entertainment?" Puck asked, wary about the answer.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "You're cute when you think." Then he ducked into a small doorway nearly hidden by an outcrop of rock and Puck almost kicked himself for thinking such a tiny whatever-he-actually-is could push those behemoths open without some serious assistance.

By the time Kurt returned with the book Puck had thought himself through so many circles he was beginning to feel dizzy. About his family, about the route back and what shortcuts he could take, about just how hard he should start hitting Ryerson when he saw him, and oddly enough, just how hot Kurt was...

When Puck saw what he had to carry back, his jaw dropped and he cursed. "There's no way I'll be able to carry that back with me and not have it take a fuckton of time."

"I know. That's why I'm lending you something in good confidence that you'll bring it back." Before Puck could question, Kurt reached around the outcrop again and coaxed something forward. Puck could've kissed him when the chestnut mare walked into sight.

Infact, Puck did. He even slipped in a little tongue.

"Oh I'll definitely be back," he promised, leaving Kurt with a bright red blush and a linger tingle on his lips.