Origin of the Sphinx Read Online Free PDF Page A

tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow?” Phoibe knew the time was short but it seemed unfairly so. “What is so important in Athens?” She couldn’t help but feel bitter at the thought of him leaving.
    “Wine, wild parties, liars, thieves, and scoundrels.”
    “Uh-huh. Where do you fit in? Scoundrel?” The edge of bitterness cut between them, her disappointment raw.
    “Thief,” he said taking the turnip from her. He added it to the basket.
    Phoibe was surprised. “Really?”
    When he nodded, she asked, “What do you steal?”
    Isaak gathered up the vegetables and the two of them stood in the garden. It didn’t seem to bother Isaak to do “women’s work” alongside Phoibe and Priska, and for the first time Phoibe realized that Isaak never allowed either woman to work without joining in.
    “I’ve just recently taken up thievery.”
    “Are you any good at it?”
    “It’s still too early to tell, but so far, I think it’s going well.” He indicated the vegetables he was carrying. “Look at my loot today.”
    “Um, hint: if you’re going to steal something, don’t tell the person you’re stealing it from.” With that she grabbed the basket, and ran towards the house.
    ~ προχωρήσουμε ~
    It was late, the moon was high in the night sky when Phoibe woke. She thought she had heard someone calling her name. She rolled over in bed and punched at her bed. It was still damp where her tears had fallen. Then she heard it again.
    “Phoibe.”
    She went to her window and looked out into the courtyard. There was no one there. She went back to her bed and sat with the covers pulled up over her knees. The disappointment of Isaak’s departure was fresh, perhaps she was just imagining things.
    “Phoibe.” It was louder this time.
    She looked out her window again and saw no one. Phoibe grabbed a shawl to cover her loose chiton, and closed her bedroom door behind her. Once outside she could see the courtyard was empty, but as she approached the front gate a hand reached through the bars and grabbed her arm. Phoibe stifled a scream.
    “Shhh. Don’t wake up Priska.” It was Isaak.
    “What are you doing here?” Phoibe was shocked, but her voice was subdued.
    “I needed to ask you something. Well, a few things actually.” Isaak looked uncomfortable.
    “What?”
    “Are you hetera?”
    “WHAT?” Phoibe’s voice was no longer quiet.
    His hand covered her mouth, preventing further outburst. “I’m not saying that you look like hetera, I just, well, I’m trying to figure out... Oh, I am making an awful mess of this.” He sighed, and dropped his hand.
    “Are you married?” Phoibe had a sinking feeling. Did he really think she was a courtesan?
    “NO!” His head was shaking. “NO! Definitely not! Why would you ask that?”
    “Well, you were asking if I was hetera. I was just thinking, well, I guess I don’t understand. What do you want?”
    “Phoibe? If I write to you, will you write back?”
    His words made no sense. “Why would you write to me?”
    He swallowed, nervous, anxious. “Phoibe, these last few days… They’ve been the happiest days of my life.” His hand touched her cheek, and he continued, “My life is not my own, though. I am studying the law, and my work–well, I still have almost two years before I can come back to Belen. I mean come back and stay.”
    Unsure of what to say, and fearful of further misinterpretation, Phoibe just nodded.
    “I guess what I’m trying to find out is…Is Priska really your aunt?”
    Phoibe shrugged. “For all intents and purposes she is.”
    “Is she your closest relative?”
    “Is that where this is going, Isaak Pallas?” She was suddenly angry at him. “Even if you ask her, she’ll tell you no. I will not become a courtesan, to come and sing and dance for you and your friends. I have no desire to be passed around, paid for my attentions…”
    His hand covered her mouth again, halting the flow of speech. “I would never want you to be a