Pandora's Box

15. A Trick of the Light

At first, I don't know how to react. Then I burst into hiccupping, hysterical barks of laughter. This is, perhaps, the most idiotic prank that anyone has ever tried to pull. If I weren't so mad, I'd almost be touched that Delian and Adrian had put so much thought into the backstory. I mean, finding a historical prophet with a matching name, then weaving this crazy tale about losing her in time? It would be amusing if I weren't the object of their amusement.

"I don't understand," Delian says, "Why are you laughing?"

"Why wouldn't I? This is the most absurd hoax anyone has ever tried to pull on me. A prophet lost in time? Seriously? Are you guys that bored? Is this some sort of rich guy past time?"

Delian shakes the photograph at me. "But this proves it! This woman, she doesn't just look like you, she is you! And you are Cassandra, priestess of Apollo, cursed prophet. I know, because I delivered the curse."

"You can stop," I tell him. "You don't need to take this any further, alright? I'm still pissed, but I can let it go if you'll drop it."

He stands in frustration and all the light in the room seems drawn to him, illuminating his striking figure.

"No, Cassandra, you stop. Stop denying what you know is true!" He thunders.

The lights surge, casting the room in an eerie, too-bright white. Delian waves a hand and the light from the nearest lamp winks out before reappearing in his open palm. Wriggling his fingers, he maneuvers the orb of light so that it spins in tight circles in his hand.

"I am Apollo, son of Zeus, one of the Twelve Olympians, champion of light, healing, archery, prophecy, music, and poetry. You, my priestess, were once devoted to me. Can you not see me for what I am?"

Shrinking away from Delian and shielding my eyes from the light, I race to find a logical explanation for what I'm seeing. Power surge. Magic. Illusion.

"Use the gifts that I have given you, and See me," he says.

"I can't," I whisper.

The lights recede, returning to their normal dimness. The orb dancing across Delian's hand returns to the lamp, fading into a comfortable, entirely natural, yellow pool of light.

"You can't?" Delian asks. "What do you mean, you can't?"

My anger returns, riding a wave of frustration that sweeps away all other emotion. "I mean my Sight and my Sense stopped working when I saw you last night, and they haven't returned. So, I can't See you. I have no idea if you're telling the truth or if you're completely insane. My inclination is insane though, for the record."

"That doesn't make any sense," Delian says. "Unless... you aren't the lost prophet."

He crosses the room and peers into my face before shaking his head. "It's you, I know it's you."

"Great, glad that's settled," I snap.

Delian picks up the photograph of Alexandra again, letting loose a string of profanities that would make Indie blush.

"You said you got this from someone named Adrian? Tell me about him."

I can't. I don't know what just happened, I don't know who this man is, but he's clearly insane and I'm starting to realize it's probably not safe for him to be in my apartment.

"Get out," I try to yell, but the words fall from my mouth in a pathetic croak.

When Delian doesn't move, I stand, gathering the anger, the shock, the roiling sea of emotions storming beneath my skin, and pour them all into the words. "Get. Out."

He takes an involuntary step back, face darkening. "You obviously need time," he tells me. "If you remembered your place, you would never speak to me this way."

"GET OUT OF MY DAMN HOUSE!" I scream, reaching for a book and lobbing it at his head.

He dodges easily and casts one last glance - pity, I think, mixed with anger - before storming into the hall and slamming the door behind him.

I stare at the closed door for what feels like hours, unable to move, unable to process. Every thought I have seems to break into a thousand shards before it's fully formed. The trick of the light. The cruel prank. The elaborate story. Adrian Morrow. Delian. Apollo. A priestess. A prophet. A curse.