Abraham struggled to breathe.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder. All the blood had drained from Matthew’s face. Hannah and Erik both gaped open-mouthed. Even Leroy Hunt seemed befuddled. The Arkana team appeared no less shaken than the rest. Maddie had thrown a protective arm around Zach. Griffin stared at the pythia in dismay. Lars was mumbling an invocation in Swedish.
The diviner rallied unexpectedly. He pushed Daniel aside and stood alone. “These are lies, witch! All lies. It is my destiny to possess the Sage Stone. Mine alone!”
Before anyone could react, Metcalf drew a pistol from his pocket and fired twice.
The spectators, too shocked to move, watched the pythia stagger and clutch her chest.
“No!” Griffin sprang to catch her before she hit the ground.
She collapsed against his shoulder, the Sage Stone still gripped in one hand. Her eyes were shut, and she had stopped breathing.
“Cassie!” The scrivener cried in an agonized voice as he lowered her gently to the earth, searching desperately for any sign of life.
The diviner raised his gun in the air. “All of you, bear witness! This is the fate that awaits those who would keep me from what is rightfully mine.”
Abraham stepped forward, intent on wresting the artifact from the pythia’s hand when he froze in his tracks.
Cassie’s eyes flew open. She sat bolt upright, her lungs expanding to draw in a huge breath of air. Turning toward the scrivener, she registered surprise. “Griffin, I’m alright. I wasn’t hit.”
He crushed her in an embrace of frantic relief.
She murmured, “Don’t worry. I really am OK. See, there’s no blood. Just help me up.”
Mystified but reassured, the scrivener raised her to her feet. “Are you quite sure you can stand?”
Cassie nodded and motioned him back, swaying unsteadily until she caught her balance. Then she stared down in wonder at the bullet holes in her jacket. “Will you look at that?” Eyeing the diviner, she gave an arch smile. “If the Sage Stone really does belong to anybody, preacher, I’m willing to bet it isn’t you.”
Abraham recoiled. “This is impossible.”
“You didn’t let me finish Mr. Proctor’s message,” the pythia said reproachfully. She seemed her usual self as she glared at the old man. “And BTW, rudest way to pull somebody out of a trance ever!”
“Impossible,” Metcalf said once more, the gun now hanging limply from his fingers.
“I’m alive because the Sage Stone transferred its power to me. I’m the one who touched it first, just like your prophecy predicted. Just like I was meant to!”
“The Sage Stone belongs to me!” the diviner thundered.
“Does it?” the pythia challenged. “Nothing in that prophecy names you as the boss of the artifact. Maybe you need a dictionary to look up the word ‘whosoever.’ The Arkana retrieved the Bones of the Mother and brought them to this cave. We assembled them in the right order and opened the lock. We unearthed the Sage Stone, and I touched it first. Your prophecy has a clear Finder’s Keepers clause.”
“Boss, I can take care of this little problem for you right quick.” Leroy aimed his gun at Cassie. “In fact, I’d consider it a courtesy if you let me. No charge. This hit’s on the house.”
Metcalf seemed to waver on the point of consent.
“Father, you can’t!” Daniel entreated.
“If you let him shoot me, you’ll never hear the rest of Proctor’s message,” Cassie warned. “And it would be the biggest mistake of your life not to hear it. Eternity in hell is a long time to mull over shoulda, woulda, coulda.”
“Stand down, Mr. Hunt!” The diviner told him sternly. “Let the witch speak.”
“Gal, I’ll give you this much. You got grit. If I had my druthers, wouldn’t be nothin’ left of you but a bitty pile of grit.” Leroy shook his head in disbelief and lowered his gun. “Go on and speak your piece.”
The pythia focused on the diviner. “Because you cut my connection to the guy in the sky, I’ll have to paraphrase the rest of what he wanted you to know. For starters, prophecies are tricky. They’re a minefield of double meanings. Yours predicted a war against the Fallen, but it never guaranteed you a victory. Just the opposite, in fact. On the night you ordered the granite key stolen and got my sister killed, you set your own doom in motion. Those crimes pulled me into the Arkana and pulled the Arkana into your quest. We never would have known about your secret plan otherwise. Ironic, isn’t it? You made us believe the Sage Stone was real and pointed us at the one object that could defeat you. Right here! Right now!”
Cassie gripped the Sage Stone with both hands and crushed it between her palms. The surface of the baetyl crumbled and trickled through the pythia’s fingers. Its sparkling green glow dimmed and died out completely. All that remained was the black slab at its core. She held it up.
“See? Now it’s just an ordinary rock. The Sage Stone was never fated to help you win your war. It was fated to stop you dead in your tracks.”
Abraham stared stupidly at the mound of sand on the cavern floor. He seemed incapable of comprehending what had just happened.
“Jedediah Proctor wants you to go home, diviner. Destroy your weapons,” the pythia instructed. “Pray for forgiveness before it really is too late. This is your last warning.”
“None of this is real.” Abraham shook his head in fearful denial. “It can’t be. Annabeth is playing tricks on me again.” His shoulders sagged. “She torments me from the shadows when I am weakest. For all I know, she has assumed the guise of this seer to sow doubt in my mind.” Panic-stricken, he searched the faces around him.
