The sphinx narrowed her eyes. The woman was dodging her questions, wasn’t she? But she was doing so in such a clever way that the sphinx could never accuse her of not answering. She was smart, this Chantinelle.

“You may call me whatever you wish, Chantinelle”, Sphix said. “And names have power, so I‘m not telling you mine.” She shifted a bit, allowed her muscles to relax. Her expression changed, too, showing a flicker of amusement. “Of course, you have seen me and know what I am, so, with the right clues, figuring out my name shouldn‘t be all that difficult. Unless you really are as poor at riddles as you claim to be.”