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When the last kingdom of Ancient Greece crumbled and most gods had ceased to roam the earth, the only oracle whose pyre continued to burn for mankind was that of Delphi. It had reinvented itself over the years, and today the oracle had taken on the guise of a confectionary company made famous for its delicious fortune cookies. Humans bought them for their constantly rotating assortment of flavors (for this season, there was the limited-edition chestnut and red beans). Non-humans, on the other hand, bought them for an entirely different reason.
A well-groomed secretary was waiting for me at Delphi’s branch office in Silver Mist, and I didn’t even need to show my badge. When I introduced myself as an agent from CSI, she simply said that the head priestess was expecting me and whisked me up to the fifth floor office of the branch manager.
“I’ll take it from here, Sam. Thank you.” The brunette standing behind the desk was gorgeous: clouds of black hair, big, dark eyes, and her tall, slim figure made frail by the way the white wispy fabric of her skirt swirled around her legs.
She was exactly how I pictured a head priestess would look like, never mind her backdrop, which, in contrast to her appearance, was the height of modern minimalism, with its industrial gray walls and glossy plastic-and-steel furniture.
“Agent Vavrin, isn’t it?” She came around her desk to shake my hand, and I had to crane my neck to meet her gaze. Have I mentioned that Delphi’s Silver Mist branch manager also happened to be wearing five-inch heels?
“Thank you for—-” A worrying thought suddenly occurred to me, and my words came to an abrupt stop. Oh, cast it. Why did my vocabulary always fail me at the worst possible time? When I saw the priestess raise a brow, I cleared my throat and started again. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, umm...Sister Claire?”
The older woman’s shoulders started to rock as soon as the words came out. Epic fail again, Blair Vavrin, I thought with a grimace. “I’m guessing that’s not the proper way to address a priestess?”
“Err, no, dear. It’s not.”
Seeing her shoulders shake even harder, I said with a sigh, “It’s alright. Please feel free to laugh—-” I didn’t bother finishing the rest of my sentence as the priestess doubled over.
Oh, well.
At least I now knew I had another surefire way to break the ice aside from telling non-humans I was really a witch named Blair.
We took our seats soon after, with Claire letting me know that I was free to address her by her given name or ‘priestess’ if that was what made me comfortable.
“I only have a few questions about someone who might have been a former—-” Brooms and sticks. Here we go again. What did one call a person who sought help from an oracle?
“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘supplicant,’” Claire said with a smile.
“Yes, exactly—-” I stopped. “Wait. How did you know that?” Could she have read my mind? Was that possible?
The priestess started laughing again. “You have quite an expressive face, Agent Vavrin, that’s all.”
Since every Tom, Dick, and Jane I knew had told me that at least twice, I knew it had to be the truth and I had only myself to blame for it. “If I get one of your fortune cookies,” I asked in a grumbling tone, “do you think your oracle would let me know how I can turn my poker face on?”
Claire’s smile only widened. “That’s not how things work here, my dear.” Standing up, she went to the file cabinets that lined one side of the room and pulled a drawer open to retrieve a box of fortune cookies. After taking its plastic seal and lid off, the priestess showed me the contents of the box, asking, “What do you see?”
“Seven fortune cookies in red foil, and one in silver.” I looked up at her with a frown. “That is what I’m supposed to see, isn’t it?”
“It is. A human, however, would see all of these in red.”
“You’re using a disguise spell then?”
“More like a web of disguise spells based on a design we’ve patented.” The priestess then picked the fortune cookie wrapped in silver foil, saying, “Humans who pick this would receive a standard fortune reading.”
“Standard?” I echoed blankly.
“It’s basically any proverb,” she elaborated with a shrug. “We have interns Google new ones every month. I think Brainy Quote is one of their favorite sources.”
“I, umm, see.” I was struggling not to grin. An ancient oracle, now reduced to copy-pasting lines from the Internet? Oh, how the world had changed. Clearing my throat, I asked, “What happens if a non-human selects it?”
“They’ll either find a blank strip of paper or a QR code to one of our landing pages.”
And now, we’re talking about QR codes and oracles, I marveled.
“The URL varies,” the head priestess added, “depending on whatever current promo we’re running.”
“You mean you’re discounting the rates for your, umm, fortune readings?”
“Naturally. Tending to the oracle may be our calling, but we also run it as we would any business. Priestesses, like witches, are not immortals. Our jobs may be somewhat unorthodox, but other than that, we lead fairly normal lives, which means we have bills to pay just like any ordinary human.”
Claire’s explanation made a lot of sense, and I now felt like an idiot for imagining that priestesses would have everything taken care of for them. “You mentioned about a blank strip of paper,” I commented. “What does that signify?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“The paper will come out blank if the oracle has nothing to say about the person,” the priestess answered simply.
“I see.” At her answer, I opened my bag and felt Claire’s curious gaze on me as I pulled out an ordinary-looking cardboard box.
“I’ve seen one of those,” the priestess remarked. “It enables you to access items in your bureau’s storage system from anywhere in the world, doesn’t it?”
“Yup. It’s useful for accessing missing and forgotten files, but it won’t ever give you a bag of chips—-” I paused with a frown. “Actually, it can, as long as you don’t mind that it comes with bloodstains and—-” I noticed the look of horror on the priestess’ face and shut up. TMI, Blair. Stop it.
“Umm, anyway, I thought I’d show you something.” I tapped the box with my wand, and a moment later, its cardboard top turned into a LED display. I pressed my thumb on the fingerprint scan, typed my command, and after a few moments, the box opened on its own and produced an evidence bag.
The priestess’ expression turned unreadable as soon as she saw the strip of silver foil wrapping inside the transparent zip-locked bag.
“The case I’m currently handling involves a sixteen-year-old victim,” I told her quietly.
“You do not need to say anything more. We’ve only had one such supplicant that fits the profile of your victim.” A faint hint of sadness darkened the priestess’ eyes as she spoke. “It’s Venus Stratton, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so. She died last night in her home.”
The priestess’ gaze turned thoughtful. “You think the oracle may help shed light into it?”
“Right now, all I can say is that it’s too early to discount anything.”
“I understand,” she said with a nod. “And of course, we will do our best to help you in any way we can.”
“I’m glad to hear that, since I’m hoping you have a copy of Venus’ oracle.”
“In a way.”
I frowned at the ambiguity of her reply, but was soon after distracted when the priestess murmured a chanting spell that had a secret sliding panel behind her desk reveal a hidden stairway.
She took a torch from the wall and blew on it. Fire sparked into life. “Follow me please, Agent Vavrin.”
The stone steps wound down into an underground tunnel that led us out of the building without being seen. As we carefully made our way down, with only the single torch in Claire’s hand to cast out the darkness, I wondered about the need for this cloak and dagger stuff when they were simply making fortune cookies humans wouldn’t have any reason to look twice at.
“Your face is speaking volumes again, Agent Vavrin,” the priestess commented with a smile.
Oh, cast it.
“Rest assured we’re not being unnecessarily secretive about our operations. Few people know this, but within the oracle of Delphi is a goddess waiting to be born.”
The priestess’ revelation almost had me tripping over my own feet in shock. I’ve read a good number of books on Greek mythology since Circe recruited me to be a part of her agency, and by books, I meant those that contained actual, accurate historical accounts of the years that gods and non-humans walked alongside homo sapiens. None of those books, however, even hinted of the oracle being alive.
“For as long as our goddess is unborn, she remains powerless and unable to defend herself.”
“Hence the secrecy,” I realized, and my confusion deepened.
“Oh, Agent Vavrin.” Claire let out a tiny chuckle. “The look on your face is priceless.”
I grimaced, knowing that was just the priestess’ other way of saying she could read me like a book.
“The oracle has bid me to speak the truth with you.”
I opened my mouth to ask why, but the priestess prevented me from speaking with a shake of her head.
“I’m sorry, but that’s all I know, Agent Vavrin. I can never ask questions of the oracle. I can only deliver her answers, nothing else.” And with that, she ended the conversation by brushing her fingers against the boulder blocking our way. There was one moment of stillness, and then the massive structure disintegrated from view to reveal yet another secret passage.
This time, however, going through it was like stepping into another world, for at the end of the passage was a subterranean paradise in which no attempts were done to hide the existence of magic. It was like a temple and industrial factory all rolled into one, with a domed ceiling made of colorful stained glass and marble pillars towering over packaging machines controlled by wand-wielding witches.
There was music in the air, along with laughter – lots and lots of laughter as young robed mistresses went about their business, floral wreaths crowning their heads, and their silky tresses flowing against their back.
One group was seated in a circle on a thick woven rug doing needlework, another group was busy cleaning their harps and lyres, while a large group of them were busy rolling strips of paper into fortune cookies before feeding them into packaging machines that would have them foil-wrapped and boxed.
I turned to Claire, wide-eyed with wonder. “This is incredible, priestess,” I breathed.
Smiling at my obvious amazement, and in a voice filled with pride, she said, “Welcome to the Temple of Delphi, Agent Vavrin.”
As the priestess led the way, I found my gaze drawn to the ancient pyre at the center of the temple. Icy blue flames of the oracle twisted and spiraled like a fire fairy making a pirouette. Its heat enveloped my skin in an embrace that almost seemed like the oracle was welcoming me home, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the mesmerizing sight.
“I can almost feel it—-” I stopped and corrected myself, “I can almost feel her – it’s like she’s beckoning for me to come close.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw the head nod in understanding. “Then maybe, that’s exactly what the oracle is asking you to do.”
And so we went forward and came as close as we could without having its sinuously-weaving flames lick our skins.
“The fires of the oracle of Delphi has been burning since the beginning of time,” Claire murmured, “and to those who know of it, the oracle is not only a channel of divination. It has also become a symbol of hope as Apollo, the god we serve, was the only Olympian in the olden days who had not turned his back on Man.”
I struggled to keep my face blank at hearing Apollo’s name mentioned. I knew I should have expected it, but I hadn’t – and now I was paying the price. Last weekend, in between saving the world from total destruction and having the honor of meeting Zeus, I had also accidentally discovered that Paul, the handsome blond INTERPOL agent I had been crushing on since day one, also happened to be Apollo, the very same Olympian Claire had just sung praises of.
“So...umm...the god you spoke of.”
“Apollo?”
“Yes.” I pretended not to notice the priestess’ puzzlement. No way I was going to call him by name – real or not. I just wasn’t ready yet.
“What of the truth god?”
I almost let out a snort. Truth god, ha! How could that be when her so-called truth god had hidden his real identity from me? My teeth ground against each other at the thought –
“Your face has gone all red, Agent Vavrin. Are you alright?”
Angry as Hades, I thought, but other than that...
I forced a smile. “Going back to the truth god—-” I nearly choked on the words. “I was just wondering what connection he has to the unborn goddess?”
The priestess simply shook her head. “No one knows.”
“Not even the truth god himself?”
“Not even Apollo,” Claire confirmed.
How very convenient, I thought darkly, but I wasn’t buying it at all. Most likely, the oracle was where his future soul mate lay, just like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her prince to come kiss her to life.
“Agent Vavrin?” The priestess was gazing at me with concern. “Your face has lost all color now.”
Brooms and sticks!
I quickly shoved all distracting thoughts of the truth god out of my mind before Claire started thinking I suffered from dangerous mood swings. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about my case.” Not exactly the truth earlier, but it would be now, I swore to myself. I had a case to work on, and a murder to solve, cast it, and those definitely deserved to take precedence over my complicated dating life.
“Could you be claustrophobic?” the priestess pressed gently. “It’s more common than you think, and witches are just as susceptible to it as humans.”
“I’m honestly alright,” I quickly assured Claire, feeling guilty for making her worry. “I was simply surprised the truth god still has, umm, something to do with the oracle.”
“Anything otherwise would be impossible, Agent Vavrin,” the priestess exclaimed. “Without his power to draw from, there wouldn’t be any fortunes to be read in the first place.”
“Then does that mean he still oversees the workings of Delphi to this day?” Because if there was a chance he would be here –
Claire shook her head. “He is not the type to—-” A frown slightly marred the priestess’ forehead. “I think the modern word for this is micro-manage?”
“Ah.” I tried not to sound overly relieved. “That’s very, umm, commendable of him.”
“It is, isn’t it? Apollo trusts us to keep the fires of the oracle of Delphi burning and its unborn goddess safe—-”
I couldn’t help but scowl at the mention of the unborn goddess, and almost as if reacting to my anger, the fire flared violently all of a sudden, its hissing sound making me gasp, and I jumped back in shock as an electric purple flame shot out of the pyre.
I heard the younger priestesses behind me giggle, and when I peeked at them over my shoulder, I couldn’t help grimacing when I saw them all looking completely unfazed, if not a little amused.
Turning back, I caught the head priestess trying to stifle a grin as well, and I made a face. “I thought she was going to burn me,” I said defensively. And if she did, I couldn’t blame her, could I?
“She only does that to people she doesn’t like,” Claire assured me, “and you’re not one of those.”
Now why did I have a hard time believing that?
After giving the oracle one last wary look, I changed the subject, asking, “Where do you store previously released oracles?” Considering the seamless mix of technology and magic in this place, I tried to mentally guess what their storage method was. Digital copies stored in a literal cloud, maybe?
“We do not have keep any such records.”
I knew it –
Wait.
What?
“No hard or digital copies? Anything?”
The priestess shook her head. “There is no need to. The oracle remembers all, and it always know what we need without needing a word spoken.” And with that, Claire stepped forward and I let out an involuntary squeak when she reached into the fire.
Gaea bewitched, wasn’t she worried about third-degree burns?
But when the priestess pulled her arm back, every inch of her skin emerged flawless and unscathed. If anything, the older woman even seemed to glow, as if the blood under her skin had turned into fire. Even her eyes glittered with energy, and her voice, when she spoke, was slightly breathless. “Here is what you’re looking for, Agent Vavrin.” Claire’s hands shook as she uncurled her fingers to reveal a rolled strip of white paper. “It was the oracle’s message for Venus Stratton, and the oracle has given her permission for you to read it.”
Unrolling the strip of paper, the first thing I saw was a jumble of tiny letters, and I frowned.
Was this in another language or was it encrypted –
Oh.
The letters started to move on its own, their curves and lines turning a bright shade of silver as they rearranged themselves, and by the time they formed a straight line, they were glowing like stars.
Death is the crown beauty wears.
As soon as I read it, the letters vanished from view, and I let out a small gasp when the paper suddenly turned into ashes. “W-what—-”
“No written records,” the priestess reminded me.
“It’s certainly a novel approach to tax evasion,” I joked.
Claire pretended to mull this over. “Now that you’ve mentioned it...”
“Err, priestess, you know that’s a joke, right?”
Someone called Claire’s name then, saving her from replying, and as the priestess momentarily excused herself, I turned to face the oracle again. It seemed so impossible, for an unborn goddess to live within its flames for countless millennia, but I knew it could only be true.
So where did that leave me, I wondered unhappily.
Now that I knew Paul also happened to be an honest-to-goodness immortal Greek god, I could easily list a hundred reasons why things wouldn’t work between us.
And now this, I thought bleakly, which was likely to be the greatest complication of all.
This unborn goddess could only be Apollo’s soulmate.
Gazing into the flames of the oracle, I tried but failed to contain the resentment that surged inside of me. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn’t help feeling angry and frustrated.
Oh, if only this stupid goddess –
The fire suddenly started shooting up electric purple flames again, and this time the fiery blaze swirled all the way up, with its tips singeing the ceiling.
This time, I was a hundred percent certain it was the unborn goddess reacting to me.
To my anger –
And this time, I was determined to stand my ground and not quail before it like some thermophobic coward.
The ground under us started to shake, and behind me, the younger priestesses had started to scream and run.
And now those priestesses in training were in it with her, too, pretending to be scared so they could make me run away like an idiot.
I glowered at the oracle. You can’t fool me again, unborn goddess.
In front of me, the flames from the pyre began to solidify, cracking and hissing even as they thickened and started oozing out like...lava?
And then I heard Claire scream, “Get away from there, Agent Vavrin!”