Cassie put her cup down on the table. “Actually, what he said didn’t bother me half as much as something Maddie said.”
“Oh?”
“She was telling me about the Nephilim and how they’ve interfered with some of your expeditions before and…” She paused.
Faye continued to sip her tea without comment.
“I’ve had a few days to put the pieces together.” The girl gazed intently at Faye. “They killed my parents, didn’t they?”
The old woman reached across the coffee table to squeeze Cassie’s hand. “I’m so sorry you had to find out that way, my dear. Maddie didn’t join the Arkana until sometime after it happened. She never knew your parents and probably didn’t realize what she was revealing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”
Faye darted her a worried glance. “I thought you already had enough tragedy to deal with after Sybil’s death. I was waiting for a more opportune time to explain the rest.”
Cassie stared off into space. “It’s funny, but I can hardly remember them at all. My mom had dark, shoulder length hair. And my dad’s hair was thinning on top. When I was a kid, I used to have a bird collection. Little figurines. Some were carved wood, or blown glass, or porcelain. They would always bring me a new one whenever they came back from a trip.”
“They were wonderful people, your parents,” Faye commented in a low voice. “They loved life, and they had the enthusiasm of children whenever they were able to locate a unique artifact. I believe their last mission had something to do with Asherah, the Canaanite goddess. They made phone contact with the local trove keeper shortly after they landed in Israel. Then they disappeared into the desert and were never seen again.”
Cassie cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Which means nobody knows what really happened to them.”
Faye shook her head. “The artifact they were sent to find was later seen in the possession of a Nephilim operative, so we know who was responsible.”
Cassie was quiet for a long while. “I guess that makes it simpler,” she said at last. “A single spot to lay the blame. The Nephilim are the one and only reason that my entire family is gone.”
“We’re still here,” Faye added quietly. “You aren’t alone.”
Cassie nodded, blinking back a few tears. “It helps to know that. It really does.”
Faye asked cautiously, “Do you want to postpone these exercises for another time?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. I’m OK, really. I’ve had some time to sort this out and get used to the idea. I just needed to hear it from you. Now I’d rather think about something else. Anything else, in fact.”
She poured herself another cup of tea, regarding the curious objects laid out on the coffee table before her. Changing the subject abruptly, she asked, “So what’s this about? More validation to prove I’m the real deal?”
“Not exactly. We’re all quite convinced you have the necessary talent to help us. You should consider this more of a training session to hone your skills.”
Her appetite returning, Cassie reached for a cookie. “What’s to hone? I pick something up, I have a psychotic episode, and then I tell you what I see.”
Faye chuckled. “Surely you meant to say ‘psychic’ episode.”
“Nope,” Cassie replied. “I meant what I said. Psychotic. Picking up that bowl last time I was here made me feel I was losing my mind.”
“Ah, I understand. In that case, you should find this training especially helpful. We’re going to attempt to put you in control of your visions rather than being at their mercy.”
“I’m all for that,” the girl agreed readily. She dusted crumbs off her jeans. “Where do we start?”
“Why don’t we begin by working left to right,” Faye suggested. “Just pick up an object and tell me what you sense.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Cassie had accurately identified two of the items. The first was a clay pot created by the pre-overlord inhabitants of Egypt. The second was a fake—a stone cat which usually sat in Faye’s garden. It had been made in a factory in China.
“You tricked me.” Cassie registered annoyance.
“Forgive me, my dear,” Faye chuckled at the ruse. “I wanted to see how perceptive you would be if faced with a forgery.”
“Did I pass?” the girl asked archly.
“With flying colors.” Faye’s face took on a serious expression as her smile faded. “I assure you the next one is not a fake.”
Cassie looked down at the third object sitting on the coffee table. It was about three inches high. A carving made from a polished piece of dark stone. It was a small figure with arms outstretched at right angles to the body. The figure wore a skirt with slanted lines incised across it. There were no feet so that the lower half of the body had a tubular appearance. The outstretched arms were squared off with holes bored into the ends. The rounded breasts indicated that the figurine was female, but the face was not human. It was the head of a woman wearing a bird mask. The beak jutted out prominently from the place where a nose should be. The eyes were enormous and shaped like horizontal teardrops. It was odd and off-putting—the strangest relic Cassie had seen yet.
She picked it up hesitantly. “OK, here we go,” she said.
There was no warning. She was running or rather he was running. His lungs were burning from the effort to pull in enough air. Something was bumping against his collarbone as he ran. Cassie knew it was the bird woman figurine hanging from a rawhide string around his neck. There were tall pine trees surrounding his village. Both the trees and the village were on fire. He wasn’t merely choking from the effort to breathe fast enough. He was choking from the smoke boiling out of the doors of houses. People were running in every direction, trying to escape the blaze. The scene was
