Scuffling noises beyond the tent meant he had taken a seat on the ground just outside the door.
“Perfect!” Cassie hissed in frustration. “As if it wasn’t already hard enough to pull a Houdini, this particular escape trick didn’t need an audience!”
“Shhh,” Griffin warned. He recommenced slicing away at their bonds. Fortunately, the sound of his efforts was almost imperceptible.
Cassie could feel blisters and rope burns forming on her wrists from her repeated attempts to free herself. Each effort reopened the cut on her hand. It continued to trickle blood.
Several tense minutes later, the scrivener paused in his work. “Try now,” he instructed.
The pythia winced and twisted her wrists. This time, the rope yielded just enough to allow her to drag one hand out. As noiselessly as she could, she snaked around and worked the remaining knot free, exhaling with relief when it gave way. Quietly rotating to face Griffin’s back, she untied his hands.
Then she leaned over and spoke in his ear. “We need to get rid of that rough character outside, grab our gear, and go.”
“How do you propose we dispatch him?”
She chuckled softly. “Check your coat pocket.”
“Yes, of course. I’d forgotten.” He reached in and grasped the stun gun she’d given him earlier. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?”
“Thanks for the offer but this seems like a two-person operation. You grab him, and I’ll zap him.”
“Righty-ho then.”
The pair crept stealthily toward the tent flap. They took up kneeling positions on either side of the opening.
“Hey, you!” Cassie called loudly. “Get in here!”
Their guard stirred. He poked his head through the flap to see what the noise was about. When he did so, Griffin grabbed him in a headlock and covered his mouth while Cassie zapped him in the neck with her stun gun. He went down without a struggle.
The two of them paused, waiting to see if anyone else was nearby. All remained quiet except for the ever-restless wind. They dragged the guard’s inert body inside the tent. Then they used their discarded bindings to tie him hand and foot. Cassie fashioned a makeshift gag out of his scarf. As a finishing touch, she gave him another jolt with her stun gun.
“That ought to keep you quiet for a while,” she muttered.
Not wanting to use their flashlights to attract attention, they groped around in the shadowy tent to retrieve their scattered belongings and stash them into their backpacks.
Cassie put a restraining hand on Griffin’s arm. “Did you hear that?” she asked tensely.
“No, what is it?”
“It sounded like voices out on the trail. Maybe the rest of the gang is coming back.”
“I don’t know if we can outrun them,” Griffin observed uneasily. “Especially once the sun comes up.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about sunrise if I were you,” Cassie countered sardonically. “The jury’s still out on whether or not we can survive the night.”
Chapter 50—Relatively True
“Welcome, my son! Welcome home.” Abraham spread his arms wide to enfold Daniel in a fatherly embrace.
The scion looked mildly surprised but came forward to accept the gesture of affection.
“Your trip was successful?” the diviner asked, still smiling.
“Yes. Yes, it was.” Daniel placed an object wrapped in cloth on his father’s desk.
The old man carefully undid the packaging, gasping in surprise at what he saw. “This artifact, heathen though it may be, is quite impressive.”
“It is,” Daniel agreed diffidently. He took a seat in one of the low visitor chairs in front of his father’s desk.
Abraham noted his son’s lackluster reaction but decided not to dwell on it. He sat down in his own chair so that he could gaze benevolently on both Daniel and the relic. “Each new victory proves you are fulfilling God’s grand design for the Nephilim. I’m sure He is pleased with you.”
The scion nodded in acknowledgment but offered no remark.
The diviner chalked up his demeanor to fatigue. “Now you must rest. Spend some time with your wives and children.”
“Speaking of my family,” Daniel sat forward. “I went to see Annabeth when I first arrived home, but I couldn’t find her. Her sister-wives said she’d been taken away. Is she well?”
Abraham’s face clouded over briefly at the thought of Annabeth’s rampage and the steps he’d been forced to take to vanquish her. Is she well? The diviner had thought long and hard about how to answer that inevitable question. In an absolute sense, she was well. After she had paid for her rebellion with her life, Annabeth had taken her place among the blessed in the celestial kingdoms, there to await the return of her husband. She was at peace just as the diviner had promised Daniel she would be.
However, Abraham was pragmatic enough to realize that telling his son of his wife’s demise might seriously jeopardize the future of the relic quest. There was one more artifact yet to be collected before the diviner would possess the Sage Stone. He could ill afford to have his son’s mind distracted by grief. Is she well? In the present moment, confronted by his son’s earnest face, he gave the only reply possible.
“Never fear, my son. She is receiving the best care possible.”
“What do you mean?” Daniel leaped from his chair.
The old man smiled benignly. “Calm yourself, Daniel. Sit down and let me explain.”
Looking unconvinced, the scion resumed his seat and waited.
Abraham sighed heavily. “Just before your return, Annabeth took a turn for the worse. Her behavior became erratic, and I was forced to call in medical assistance.”
The diviner was not lying to his son. Annabeth had indeed become erratic, and medical assistance in the person of Doctor Aboud had been summoned.
Daniel’s eyes flew open wide. “You sent her to one of those places? To a mental institution?”
“I sent her to an institution but only for a time,
