She shrugged and resumed picking strawberries. “I think I’d like to make berry compote. Whipped cream and strawberries and blueberries, does that sound good to you?”

For once, Dean was not distracted by food. “What if Castiel can’t steal the Grail?”

“Then,” she said slowly, “it’s likely Castiel’s vessel will be destroyed and Castiel will be sent back to Heaven, and Lilith will succeed in opening the gates of Heaven and raising Lucifer, and the Apocalypse will begin. In which case all hope is lost and we will be cut off permanently from the earthly realm.”

“And you’re okay with this,” Dean said, and Maya continued picking strawberries. “I can’t believe how cold you’re being. Just last week — thank you, by the way, for losing three days we really could have used –”

“Time is a mortal invention, Dean.”

“Whatever. Point is, you just last week told me not to give up, not to give into hopelessness, not to become complacent. But that’s exactly what you’re telling me to do now.”

Maya said, not looking up from the perfect strawberry in her hand, “Dean, why haven’t you asked me about Sam yet?’

Dean swallowed. “Because — he’s untouchable right now. Isn’t he? Since Lilith needs him?”

“Or you just don’t want to know. I’d hardly blame you for that. But I have to tell you, we can see his story ending a few different ways. One, Lilith cuts off his head and uses his blood and body to desecrate the Grail and open the doors to Heaven and Hell. Or two, Lilith uses a little of his blood to desecrate the Grail and open the doors to Heaven and Hell, and then offers Sam as a vessel to Lucifer once he’s risen. I can see the second one happening far more easily than the first. Lilith would momentarily enjoy killing Sam, but how much pleasure would it give her to see her worst enemy housing her lord? Or even . . . he might offer himself. You know what he’s been thinking about his purpose, Dean.”

Dean wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah. I know.”

“So if Castiel fails in stealing the Grail, the other option is to kill Sam.” She put the strawberry in the basket.

“No,” Dean whispered. “He can’t. He can’t kill Sam, that’s –”

“If it’s what must be done, Castiel will do it. Which is why, if he doesn’t bring the Grail here, he doesn’t plan to return.”

Dean pushed himself to his feet and walked a few yards away, his mind so full he couldn’t make any sense of any thought. “And if he fails to do either of them?”

“We’ll know.” She pointed to the enormous ash down the path. “That will split from roots to branches.”

Dean stared at the tree, his hands on his hips, and then turned back to Maya. “I refuse.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “What are you refusing?”

“This bullshit. Castiel’s not the one who’s supposed to stop it. I am. If Castiel goes he’ll be killed, but if I go — no matter how dangerous, no matter what I –” His voice faltered. He cleared his throat and went on ruthlessly, “No matter what I have to do, then I at least have some chance of succeeding.”

Maya started to smile. “Some chance,” she said softly. “A small one.”

“But I’m not going to kill Sam. I don’t care what the prophecies say. There has to be a way to save him. He’s not just meant to be a vessel for Lucifer or a fucking sacrifice. He’s more than that. He’s my brother.”

“How?” Maya said in a practical tone. “How can you save him, Dean, if he’s already made up his mind that this is what he needs to be?”

“If he’s made up his mind, I’ll change it. If he’s just a hostage, I’ll rescue him. I won’t let Lilith kill him. I’ll get the Grail from her. I’ll — I have no idea how,” he confessed and let his shoulders slump. “I just know I will.”

She watched him for a moment, and then got to her feet, shook out her skirts, and came to him. She put her hands on his shoulders. “I can show you a way to find out.”

Dean looked up, hopelessness fleeing. “Yes. Yes. Show me.”

“It won’t be easy,” she warned him. “It may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I’m not afraid,” he said, and she smiled and led him to the ash tree.

“This,” she said and laid a hand on its trunk, “is the world tree. It contains every secret, every mystery whispered into an acolyte’s ear, every bit of wisdom and knowledge given to man or kept from man or shared in the red tent between women. Its roots grow deep in the Earth and its branches reach far into the sky.”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, looking up. “It’s big, all right.” He looked back at Maya. “What do I have to do? Climb it?” His leg ached at the notion. “Meditate under it?”

“Hang from it,” Maya said.

Dean blinked at her. “What? What?!?”

“Sacrifice for wisdom,” she reminded him, and he looked back at the tree, understanding. Fate had been trying to warn him all along that he’d end up here.

“Okay,” he said and took a deep breath. “I’m not afraid.”