Origin of the Sphinx Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Is there a reason you are being so…” Phoibe struggled.
    “Flirtatious?” He attempted to fill in the blank.
    “Obnoxious!” She was practically glaring at him.
    He laughed and drew close to her. Inexplicably her heart rate picked up.
    “I’m Apollo.” His eyes grazed over her slowly, and Phoibe felt self-conscious in her faded peplos. He looked her in the eye. “I’m allowed to cause a little disquiet, because I’m usually so charming.” The smile was practically blinding.
    “Really?” Phoibe’s surprise was nothing compared to the upset of her emotions. She let the irritation at his presumptuousness seep into her voice. “I’m not really seeing that.” She turned and walked back towards the house, her heart racing.
    “But you will,” he replied. The voice was practically a whisper, but Phoibe could hear the promise.
    Phoibe turned to look back at the man, but he was gone.
    The walk home was quick. When Phoibe entered the house, Priska was at the loom and didn’t look up.
    “I just met Apollo.” Phoibe’s words were like an explosion.
    The loom fell silent. Priska looked at her, surveying her. “And?” Priska asked.
    “And what?” Phoibe met Priska’s inquiring eyes with her own.
    “What else happened?”
    “Nothing, really. I thought he was trying to steal our pig, and then I told him how annoying he was.”
    Priska laughed, but there was relief in her voice. “Oh, no, child. You can’t go around insulting the gods.”
    “Well, how was I to know? And he was so…presumptuous. I have to say, he’s nothing like what I thought a god would be.”
    “Really? And what is that?” Priska had started weaving again.
    The rhythm of the loom was soothing to Phoibe’s still racing heart. “I don’t know. More god-like, you know.” She waved her arms, words seemed insufficient to explain. “It was just… peculiar,” she shrugged.
    “Did he say he’d see you again?” Priska’s eyes were intent, but she masked her anxiety by focusing on the cloth.
    “Something like that.”
    “Be careful, Phoibe.” Priska stopped the weaving again to look the young lady in the eye. “Find out what his attention means before you get swept off your feet.”
    “Um, Priska, I don’t think there is any risk of him sweeping me off my feet. I think he’s really quite insufferable.”
    Priska shook her head and went back to weaving.
    It was only a few days later, Phoibe was walking back from Jiri’s. She was carrying dye for the wool Priska was spinning. It had been overcast that morning, but the clouds were dispersing. The sunlight brought with it warmth, and Phoibe was smiling to herself.
    She was just outside of town. The road narrowed where the number of travelers diminished, and just ahead, the sun seemed to reflect on small particles in the air. The particles sparkled, then started to glow. Surprised, Phoibe slowed her pace, then stopped. She stood in a state of shock as Apollo materialized in front of her.
    “Don’t you think that’s a grand entrance?” He smiled at her.
    “What are you doing here?” Phoibe looked around to see if anyone else had seen.
    “I’m here to see you.” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing.
    “Why?”
    “Why? As in you don’t think your company is worth my attention?”
    “No, why as in WHY?”
    He laughed. “Aren’t you funny?” He stepped up to her, until there was only a small space separating them. He looked down into her eyes.
    Inadvertently, Phoibe felt nervous. “Funny? What are you talking about?” She felt lightheaded, dizzy.
    “You.” His thumb stroked across her cheekbone. “I find your conversation full of humor.”
    She could feel where his touch left heat on her skin. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “I’m not trying to be funny.”
    “I know.” He smiled again at her, and the space separating them shrank.
    A longing filled her, and a vision of her being kissed by the god flitted through her mind. WHAT?