“They might never find her,” I continue. “We need to figure out how to find the door on our own.”

“I wish I could help more,” Cassandra says, “but the knowledge passed down to the Sisterhood through the generations did not include any information about the door, and human research only describes it as a cave.”

I smile at the term human research.

“Well, we know it’s not a cave,” Grace replies. “The gorgons said it wasn’t a physical portal.”

I push to my feet and start pacing. The oracle sure picked a pretty inconvenient time to go missing, assuming the gorgons are right about her staging the scene at her place. Nick was pretty certain she left of her own accord, too. Our friends didn’t mention seeing her in the abyss or the dungeons of Olympus.

Maybe she did just take off.

“The least she could have done was leave a clue,” I snap, spinning on my heel in the kitchen before pacing back toward the table. “An X-marks-the-spot treasure map would have been nice.”

“Maybe she couldn’t,” Greer suggests. “Maybe she didn’t have time.”

Grace gasps. “Or maybe she did.”

“What?” I ask.

Her face beams with excitement. “What did you find in her shop?”

“No treasure map,” I reply. “The pendant of Apollo and—”

“The riddle,” Greer finishes.

“Sillus love riddle,” the little monkey chimes in.

“The riddle?” I parrot. “The one written in ancient Greek?”

Grace nods. “Greer and I got it translated.”

She pushes to her feet and pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. After a few clicks on the screen, she starts reading:

“In the space beneath the sky, between harbor and haunted ground,

Where graces and muses weep at gentle water’s shore,

Be three within three, join life with death in thee,

To find the lost and take up destiny.”

She looks up when she finishes, a hopeful look on her face.

That’s our big clue? I’ve got nothing. It does sound like directions for finding the door—for opening the door and accepting our legacy—but beyond that . . . it’s so vague. It could be a map to the moon, for all I can tell.

I stare back blankly. “What does it mean?”

Her face falls. “I thought you might know.”

We both look at Greer, who shrugs. Sillus and Cassandra are just as clueless.

“It certainly sounds like a clue to find a location,” Greer says, giving me a scolding look for being unsympathetic. “It’s quite likely it leads to the door.”

“That’s true. And if it’s a clue to find the door, then at least now we know what the riddle means,” I say, trying to make Grace feel better. “That’s something.”

She stuffs her phone back into her pocket. “Yeah. I guess.”

We fall silent.

This is not the kind of puzzle I excel at solving. If the problem involves breaking into a high-security office building to take down an ekhidna, I can totally do that. I can kick through doors and scale chain-link fences, but I can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found, and I can’t solve a crazy old woman’s riddle.

Greer clears her throat. “Am I the only one who sees the obvious here?”

We all turn to look at her.

“Apparently,” I say. “What’s the obvious?”

She glances around the room. Then, as if it truly is the most obvious thing in the world, she says, “I can find the door.”

CHAPTER 23

GREER

Everyone turns to stare at me. “I can try to find the door,” I clarify. “Or at least the oracle.”

My powers are still raw, so there’s no guarantee I’ll find out what we need to know. I can try, though. I would be a coward not to.

“No way,” Gretchen says.

“You heard what the gorgons said.” Grace fidgets with the metal edge of the table. “You shouldn’t be seeking out visions.”

“That was before,” I argue, “when I was still a beacon of Apollo. Now that the connection is severed, that isn’t a problem anymore.”

Grace looks thoughtful. “That’s true.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Gretchen insists.

“It’s my gift.” I turn my palms up on the table in a helpless gesture. “I can’t just abandon it.”

“Remember what happened last time you went after a vision?” Gretchen pushes away from the table and starts pacing. “I’m not eager to see you in an astral lock again.”

“That won’t happen,” Grace says, coming to my aid. “It was a side effect of her connection with Apollo.”

“All the more reason to stay away from amateur attempts at prophecy,” Gretchen argues, “in case she rekindles that connection.”

“She won’t,” Grace insists.

“You don’t know that.” Gretchen gives her a stern look.

I sit there, watching my sisters argue over whether or not I should use my gift. I know they care about me. They are worried about me and don’t want me to have any more problems. Neither do I.

But I refuse to be afraid of my powers. The visions are a part of me, and I’m going to embrace them, whether my sisters like it or not.

“This might be our only chance at finding the oracle or the door.” I give my sisters a determined look. “I don’t need your permission. But I would like your help.”