He turned back to me, a puzzled look on his chest-face. Crushing someone under a rain of rocks did seem like the sort of favor he would grant. Blind luck? Or perhaps the spirit of Trophonius had granted me one last grudging favor for destroying his cave.
#THE DARK PROPHECY THE CAVE OF TROPHONIUS CRACK#
I was fairly sure I hadn’t caused the ceiling to crack and collapse. The ranger disappeared under churning foam. At precisely the same moment, a portion of the ceiling peeled loose and fell on top of said ranger like a hailstorm of major appliances. Then an aftershock rattled the cavern, unbalancing the blemmyae, and I took advantage. I simply knew I had to save Meg and get out of there.
#THE DARK PROPHECY THE CAVE OF TROPHONIUS FULL#
They could not turn their heads without turning their entire bodies, so they executed a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree waddle. They were slow at “looking over there.” They could not glance. In fact, it is a trick so old it predates papyrus scrolls and was first recorded on clay tablets in Mesopotamia. I realize that this method of distraction is the oldest trick in the book. “Oh, my gods! Look over there!” You must forgive me. Would you prefer we stomp or dismember you first? It’s only right you get to choose.” “That’s very polite,” I agreed. I wished I had some other weapon-even a magical Brazilian handkerchief that I could wave in my enemies’ faces! Oh, if only a surge of divine strength would course through my body!Īt last the ranger sighed. My hands were too numb to be any good with a bow or a ukulele. I had to get her back to the Waystation and set her on the Throne of Memory quickly, but two blemmyae still stood in my way. Meg was still only half-conscious, muttering and shivering. I hoped the explosion had destroyed the Cave of the Oracle as Trophonius wished, but I could not be certain. At the very least, I hoped Nanette’s death had not been in vain. It’s a long tunnel.” This bought me another three or four seconds, during which a clever escape plan still did not present itself. That was not polite.” “Hold on!” I yelped. The trooper and the ranger frowned at me.
A burst of air erupted from the middle of the lake, upheaving the dock and filling the cavern with the scent of tangerine lipstick. Chunks of wet stalactite dropped into the lake and whanged against the hulls of the barges. I might have felt sorry for her had she not been planning to kill me. As the device exploded, I imagine she bubbled out one last vile curse like, Oh, gosh darn it. I wonder what went through her mind when she realized that a five- second timer underwater still lasted exactly five seconds. Your favorite fruit? I hope you didn’t say grapes Or apples, or figs POOR NANETTE.
“Well,” she said at last, “in that case, I’ll be back!” She scooped up the tanks and leaped into the water, which gave me a few luxurious seconds to come up with a plan to avoid getting trampled into jelly. Thank the gods, she either didn’t see it or was too polite to mention her reservations. Nanette studied the bomb, perhaps sensing that something was still off about my plan.
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