Abraham still sat in his office chair, but he felt strangely immobilized. He couldn’t seem to move his arms or legs. A peculiar sense of lethargy had overtaken him. The lamp on his desk still burned dimly. The pendulum still swung monotonously below the clock face. His head was swimming. The familiar objects in his office melted into the background. The room seemed enveloped in fog. He saw an object far off in the distance. It appeared to emerge from a long tunnel and drift toward him. It was the figure of a woman. She drew nearer, but her feet weren’t touching the floor. She floated in the air near where he judged the ceiling to his office had been just a moment before.
“Hello, Father,” the woman said.
“I know you,” he murmured.
She laughed mirthlessly. “I should hope so.”
It was Annabeth—his son Daniel’s dead wife. But this spectral version of Annabeth was different somehow. She didn’t fidget or cower before his stern gaze.
“What do you want from me,” he demanded petulantly. “It’s late, and I have an appointment to keep.”
She wafted nearer, perhaps ten feet away but still floating above him. “I don’t want anything from you. I’m here to give you a message.”
He noticed for the first time that she was dressed oddly. Instead of the grey garb of a consecrated bride, she wore a long white robe of a diaphanous material that drifted on invisible air currents. Her hair was no longer braided and coiled around her head. Rather it was unbound and rippled about her shoulders. Abraham noticed with a start that she now held an infant in her arms. The child hadn’t been there a moment earlier.
Annabeth smiled down fondly at the child. Then she directed her gaze at the diviner. “As you can see, I found my son.” She paused. “Where is yours?” A fleeting smirk crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right. You lost him.”
Abraham felt a pang of sadness at her mockery. Annabeth was referring to Hannah’s child—the baby who had been born and died in the Fallen Lands.
The apparition spoke again. “Your boy was only the first to fall. Two more will follow.” She counted on her fingers for emphasis. “One, two, three sons lost to you. How sad.”
The diviner wanted to cry out in disbelief, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice. He remained frozen, forced to listen mutely to the vile creature’s predictions.
She advanced a few feet and regarded him dispassionately. Her child seemed to match her detached expression as he too gazed down at the diviner without a trace of anxiety or curiosity. “Three sons lost to you forever. Yet an even greater loss than all these three awaits.”
“You lie!” he challenged, finding his voice at last. “You are the devil’s instrument as you always were in life, sent to frighten me with your deceit.”
“I do not come from the devil.”
To Abraham’s amazement, he saw huge white wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. It happened right before his eyes. They spread wide and lifted her higher in the air.
“My lady angel told me all these things would come to pass,” she explained.
“How dare you presume to tell me the future? Your preposterous female angel is a false seer. I am the Lord’s true prophet! I am the diviner!”
Annabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow at his posturing. “You are a frail, frightened old man. You grasp at straws while your house falls about your ears. Its cornerstone has crumbled.”
“Begone, witch!” He could feel a sense of panic creeping into his throat. “Begone, demon!”
She shook her head and laughed lightly. “I am neither witch nor demon. Not enough power to be a witch. Not enough malice to be a demon. Goodbye, Father.” Her voice held a hint of derision as it pronounced the last word. Her wings lifted her higher still, and she seemed to dissolve into the distance.
He felt his body being rocked from side to side. A hand was shaking him by the shoulder.
“Father, wake up!” The tone was urgent, worried.
In a flash, Abraham returned to wakefulness. His son Joshua was peering into his face.
The diviner shoved him away brusquely. “What do you want?”
His son hesitated. “I... uh... I’m sorry if I startled you. You were in a deep sleep. Your lips were moving. Your arms and legs were twitching. I feared you might be experiencing some kind of seizure.”
“Seizure!” Abraham roared in disbelief. He raised himself to his feet. “I am sound in wind and limb. Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Of course, Father.” The spymaster backed away. “Just as you say.”
With a start, Abraham realized that half a dozen men loitered awkwardly in the corners of the room. They had all witnessed this shocking display of his vulnerability. He needed to recover his composure. “I’ll meet with you all in the morning. You have my leave to go.”
“But Father,” his son protested weakly.
A glare from the diviner silenced him.
“As you wish,” Joshua murmured. He studied his father through narrowed eyes but made no further comment. Then he turned to his charges. “You men come with me. I’ll arrange sleeping quarters for you.”
They allowed themselves to be shepherded out of the diviner’s presence though more than one looked askance at the old man before leaving.
“Joshua!” the diviner called after him.
“Sir?” The spymaster returned.
“Send Brother Andrew to me immediately. If he isn’t in the infirmary, wake him. I have an urgent matter to discuss.”
That look of calculating appraisal crossed Joshua’s face once more, but he asked no further questions. Nodding his assent, he let himself out and closed the door.
***
Ten minutes later, a short, balding man in his sixties
