Cassie could hear conflicting comments surging from different directions. “She’s right,” someone said. “We should go anyway,” another disagreed.
Back and forth it went. The discussion continued for what seemed like an eternity. Just as the participants approached consensus, their opinion would be swayed in a contrary direction by a more eloquent opposing voice.
***
Cassie sighed and looked at her wristwatch. They’d been at it for almost two hours. She glanced quickly at Griffin. The glazed expression on his face suggested that even he was getting bored with the proceedings. She thought this might be a good opportunity to learn more about the Sage Stone.
She leaned toward him and whispered, “So what is it?”
“What’s what?” the young man asked vaguely.
“Wake up, will you? I want the backstory on the Sage Stone.”
Finally snapping to attention, Griffin turned to her. “Oh, that. It’s a unicorn,” he said soberly.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s like a unicorn. And King Arthur’s Excalibur. And Santa Claus. The Sage Stone is a myth, a legend. Something that up until quite recently none of us believed existed.”
“But what does it look like? What does it do?” the pythia urged.
“It’s a baetyl.”
“A beetle?”
“No, a baetyl,” Griffin corrected. “A meteorite that fell to earth thousands of years ago.”
Cassie gave him an incredulous look. “Like kryptonite?”
“Good grief, of course not.” The scrivener sounded exasperated. “To the peoples of the ancient world, a flaming rock that crashed to earth was a sign from the deity. It was meant to be treated with reverence. Do you remember what I told you about the black stone at Mecca? The one Muslims kiss when they visit the shrine?”
Cassie nodded uncertainly.
“That is also a baetyl. Cultures around the world venerated these objects and attributed magical properties to them.”
“So, I was right,” the pythia persisted. “It is like kryptonite. I mean, they’re both magic rocks that fell from the sky.”
“Yes, but one of them fell from a comic book sky while the other—” The scrivener halted, noting the pythia’s mischievous expression. “You’re being deliberately outrageous, aren’t you?”
Cassie smiled impishly. “What was your first clue?”
“Are you quite finished?”
“I’m done for now. Go on.” She waved him along airily.
“As I was attempting to explain, the ancients took baetylae very seriously as objects of awe and worship. The Sage Stone was one of these. No one knows exactly what it looked like, but it was probably black. Most meteorites blacken after exposure to earth’s atmosphere. It may have been cylindrical or oval in shape. Not very large. Perhaps the size of a human hand. In antiquity, it was called by various names but most typically the Speaking Stone, the Sage Stone, or the Voice of Heaven. The Minoans believed it was an oracular stone.”
“A what?”
“To a perceptive ear, it was reputed to whisper messages which would then be used for the benefit of the people. The Minoans attributed the many achievements of their culture to messages received from the Sage Stone. Their advances in technology and the arts were all based on the promptings of the baetyl. Until the dark ages came.”
Cassie frowned. “What dark ages?”
“The Minoans of Crete represented the final flowering of matristic culture in the Mediterranean region. Their civilization enjoyed two thousand years of uninterrupted peace and prosperity. However, beginning around 1400 BCE, things changed. Along with a series of natural disasters, the Minoans were subjected to a wave of overlord invasions that destroyed their way of life. They believed that the Sage Stone had abandoned them. Their seers could no longer hear the whispering in the rock.”
“What happened to it?”
“Ah, that’s where the legend begins,” Griffin said mysteriously. “The Sage Stone disappeared from view. Lost in the swirling mists of time. No one knew what became of it, but there was a prediction. If the Sage Stone ever came to light again, it would presage the beginning of a new golden age.”
“For the Minoans?” Cassie sounded incredulous. “They aren’t around anymore, are they? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Not for the Minoans. For the entire world. It would mean equality, prosperity, and, dare I say it, peace on earth. The end of overlord domination of the planet. In short, everything the Arkana has been working toward for centuries.”
“That’s some rock!” Cassie exclaimed, impressed.
Griffin shrugged. “Of course, no one actually believes in the prophecy nowadays. But the Sage Stone itself is a rare artifact. A mythical object that really exists. A matristic version of the Holy Grail. For that reason alone, we would want to protect it in our troves.”
Cassie frowned as a new thought struck her. “Why would the Nephilim want something that ushers in the reverse of the kind of world they like to live in? Equality, peace on earth, and good will aren’t really their thing. Do they just want to get their hands on it to destroy it?”
Griffin grew thoughtful at her words. “That assumes they actually believe the Minoan prophecy which is highly unlikely. The Nephilim only credit prophecies made by one of their own. To them, the Minoan prediction would be heathen gibberish. No, I think it’s something else.” He paused as a new thought struck him. “Aside from any putative mystical powers, the Sage Stone must have some symbolic meaning to the Nephilim, and that doesn’t bode well. Fanatics tend to commit their greatest atrocities under the aegis of symbols, whether they be crosses, swastikas, or baetylae.”
“Well, whatever they’ve got in mind for the Sage Stone, I think it’s a good idea if the Arkana gets to it first,” Cassie observed.
The scrivener nodded solemnly. “I quite agree.”
The pythia checked her watch again. The Concordance discussion had now continued for two hours and fifteen minutes. “This is never gonna end,” she whispered in Griffin’s ear. “Why doesn’t Faye just shut them all down?”
Griffin turned and whispered back, “Because this is a democracy, not a dictatorship. Faye is wise enough to know that
