At the secluded table Theo took the last drink of his whiskey and leaned toward an intense Daniela. His eyes were no long on her body but unfocused now, and somewhere lost in the darkened section of the room.

"Professor Vasileou and I had become very close over those years, "he said, almost in a whisper. "I was fresh back from Berkeley when I met her at the Blegan and she was . . . just very helpful to me."

Daniela stared down at the table as he spoke. Realizing some painful or revealing confession was hanging in the air.

"She lectured several times a year with us at the AmericanSchool and had spent a lot of her time researching in the library. I was of assistance to her when she needed it. But beyond that . . . we shared something else. OK . . . not what you might think . . . as you've gotten to know me by now . . ." He smiled vacantly. "But something I've not told anyone all these years."

She held her breath in anticipation of what Theo might reveal.

"While we worked together sometimes alone, she had always spoken warmly of her summer home. Here in Greece. All Greeks have a house on an island or in a mountain village somewhere, inherited from their families. It's usually where they escape during the holidays."

"OK . . . ?"

"Hers was a village on the island of Andros, one of the CycladicIslands, about two hours by ferry from the eastern side of Attica."

"And you believe. . . she is there, now Theo?"

"I won't say so with complete certainty. But yes, that's where I knew she went to live in retirement and . . . yes . . . in seclusion. There were rumors among the classical studies community that she was still living in Greece, though no one was ever able to confirm that. Some believed she was hiding somewhere abroad. Possibly still involved in some sort of secret research. But still . . . nothing she did after her departure has ever been published. There are only fewer and fewer inquiries about her anymore."

"So what do you believe, Theo?"

"Many of the community simply accepted that she's gone forever. Perhaps to the States. But it's always been my belief that if she's remained in this country, she would be at her remote family house there on the island of Andros . . . where she stayed as a child and young girl during her summers."

He looked up at Daniela suddenly, as if waking from a dream.

"It's been well over ten or eleven years now . . . since the two of us discussed that."

"But why, Theo? Why did she leave a perfectly sound position here? She had become an expert in her field. She had so much to share with the world."

"She never told anyone why, Daniela. And we officially never talked again . . . not after she pulled up all roots that sad summer. I just respected her decision to go. For her to find her space . . . her peace. It was such a pity though, really. She knew so much about mythology and its connection to history. She was a lovely person as well. A character easy to admire . . . or become infatuated with."

"Theo . . . you said officially you never spoke again. So are you fairly certain she's well? And living on that island today?"

He was looking down onto the empty plate, now remaining silent. She could see his eyes were moist, on the verge of tears.

"Theo?"

"Yes . . . for a while I was certain she was there . . . though she could be anywhere now. It truly was Andros she mentioned often. Up in the village of Stenies. A very scenic place. She had spoken of it many times to me . . ."

He exhaled a deep sigh.

"I have truly missed her these past twelve years, Daniela."

He was now genuinely buried in a deep sadness. It was an unexpected mood change. And one strangely brought on by the Daniela's direct line of questioning. He no longer looked at her with any lustful intentions. Something of a great loss still resonated within him more than a decade later.

In a strange reversal, Daniela felt compelled to put her own hand momentarily on his shoulder. It brought a smile to his face and a nod, expressing that he would no longer burden her with this sadness. During that moment of his consolation Daniela felt a silent triumph that she had in turn learned so much. However, many new questions now leapt to her mind. She could not resist asking once more about the missing researcher, or for any other information Theo might now reveal.

"Theo . . . the other women . . . the researcher who disappeared in Turkey. Do you have any thoughts on why they never found her?"

He seemed to be recovering quickly, looking into Daniela's eyes again momentarily. She even feared his prior sense of mischief might be resurrected all too soon.

"No. And I only spoke with her several times while she was at the AmericanSchool. It was when she was working with Dr. Vasiliou and the others. We all associated briefly before they left for Turkey that first summer. And even less that second season."

"What was she like?"

"Her name was Emel . . . Emel Bahar. About your age. As I said, Turkish American descent. But I remember she had this . . . intense interest in her ancient Turkish homeland. Its contribution to pre-history."

"Interesting. Anything else?"

Um. . . yeah. She always tried to convince me her Turkish homeland was as rich as the Greeks' in terms of history and achievement. I used to laugh at this notion. She was a brilliant researcher, though. I remember she had an amazing CV for someone not yet even an assistant professor. She told everyone at the time . . . she was preparing to go back and teach at Yale following her digs in Turkey. I guess she never made it back to New Haven."

Daniela responded with a sad expression. However, she realized that through her anxious but gradual interrogation of Theofilos, she had accomplished most of what she been asked to discover that evening. As she looked out the enormous windows once more into the illuminated garden of the Gennadius Library grounds, she reluctantly focused her thoughts back on Stacie and Nicasio. She could see them still, and that they were involved in animated discourse. It bothered her that they were much too close to one another physically.

She could see Nicasio appeared happy. He seemed totally engaged in the attention he was getting. And as she watched them for a moment more intensely, she could see Stacie taking the liberty to lean her head onto his shoulder as she laughed with him. She understood it was the girl's own treacherous little tactic, probably developed and honed for success in her teens. Though it angered Daniela further, it did not surprise her, remembering Stacie's immediate attraction to Nicasio. What disturbed her more was that her closest friend and lover did not temper those innuendos. Step away from the obvious attempts to seduce him. On the contrary, he smiled broadly during their conversation and even waved his arms at one point in some display of juvenile glee.

Daniela quickly turned away from the scene outside and tried to put her growing rage behind her. Looking back at Theofilos, she considered her own more academic interests far more worthy-not something so base as encouraging the attractive Greek archaeologist who pursued her. She realized that by coming to Greece she had touched upon something powerfully intriguing to her-some richness and depth she felt now she always had needed. And the subject of it still awaited her just across the street in the library. It was through her own simple research and this epiphany about herself which came with it which was so liberating. She had gained that in some other place and time powerful women as warriors had mastered their own independence to such an exceptional degree.

Daniela realized she did have one last question for Theo.

To accomplish this she placed her hand lightly on his arm in a bold and entreating gesture. It was certainly more formal than Stacie's rude antics and far nobler of purpose. She looked directly into his eyes as well as she spoke to him.

"Theo, you say you're pretty certain Dr. Vasiliou is living in her former village on that island of Andros. Correct?"

He now seemed to be avoiding any eye contact with her in an attempt to not reveal anymore of what possibly was for so long his own very guarded secret. He also seemed reluctant to submit himself to any more questioning, in spite of Daniela's warm touch and engaging attention.

"Yeah, I do. But that's only because it happens to be sort of . . . well a Greek thing."

"Greek thing?" She was further intrigued by the cryptic remark.

"Yes. You see Andros is a pretty closed island to outsiders. The people there are long time descendents of mostly commercial shipping families. They've been pretty tight that way since the 17th century."

"Really?"

"It's where the captains and ship owners called home for centuries. Where they all went back to retire. And many of these families still maintain their Neo-Classical homes there. Some a few hundred years old."

"Wow. They must be beautiful!"

"Especially in certain villages on the island like Stenies. But you have to understand these decedents are sort of anti-tourist as islanders go. They're this way to foreigners . . . and even to other Greeks who are not from there. It's sort of impossible to break into their private world, really. "

"OK. Well that's understandable."

"Unless . . . unless you happen to be one of them. . ."

"What? . . . I don't follow . . ."

"You see, Daniela, my ancestral home is there, too. On Andros. It's something Dr. Vasiliou and I used to have in common. We talked of it often when she came to the Blagen for seminars or research projects. Our shipping families probably even had known each other over the generations at some point in the past. They were very tight about that. We could have even been distantly related."

"Wow!"

"You see, both of our families had houses in the village of Stenies. It's on a mountainside above the old port of Andros. Like other families on that island, our people lived in real style there. It was shipping money. Privilege and pure sophistication. There's a sort of village elegance there that remains on Andros, even today."

"Very sweet, Theo. It sounds incredible."

"Andriots were, and still are very worldly. They have always prided themselves in educating their children. Sending them abroad. To learn about the world. As you see, my parents sent me to Berkeley. But like I said, in the village they have remained isolated, out of touch for the most part with that world."

"This is all very intriguing. . ."

"Most only spend the summer months now in those family homes up in Stenies. Clustered on the mountainside. Only a few families may stay there all year anymore."

"I see. But that's probably even better. If that's what the professor wanted when she left Athens."

"Yes. But an island village can be pretty cold, windy and lonely in the winter. Practically a ghost town as I remember it outside of summer."

"But . . . it could then be the perfect hideaway. Do you still visit relatives there anymore?"

Theofilos was looking away again as he spoke. It was as if Daniela had somehow hit a new nerve in him.

"No," he finally said, and then looked into her face squarely, meeting her expression of earnest intrigue.

"So. . . Daniela. . . I'm very certain Dr. Vasiliou is living there in the village of Stenies. She's been there living alone for many years. I'm sure of it. Involved in her own passions. History and myth."

Daniela's eyes lit up, unable to hide her enthusiasm.

"Theo. . . This professor has to be the one person in the whole world I would truly love to meet."

She took a deep breath and clutched his arm now with both hands. The very last question of her own volition erupted out of her.

"Would you take me there, Theo . . . to that island, to that village . . . to meet and speak with Dr. Vasiliou?"

Feeling Daniela's warm grip on his arm, and returning helplessly to his male instincts, Theofilos looked deeply into Daniela's eyes once more. He then reluctantly nodded his head in positive agreement.

"Yes, Daniela . . . I will," he said.

* * *