Authors: Kyra Dune
Oracle (19 page)
“How do
you even know she’s still alive?” Simon asked. “We might have come all this way
for nothing.”
“Oh,
never fear, I am very much alive.” A woman in dark blue robes stepped from the
shadows on the far side of the room. Her gaze swept over the companions,
lingering on
Lorn
, whose gasps were growing louder
and more ragged by the moment. “You seem to have suffered some trouble along
your way.”
“Yes, we
did.” Anastasia boldly stepped forward. “Can you help him?”
Oracle’s
gaze shifted to Anastasia. “Are you more concerned with his life than with the
Cataclysm?”
“At the
moment, yes.”
“Then
I’ll see what I can do.” She crossed the room to
Lorn’s
side. “I’ll take him where I can look after him. The rest of you may wait in
the solarium.” She indicated an archway off to the right.
“Simon is
hurt as well,” Anastasia said.
“No.”
Simon shook his head. “Let her see after
Lorn
. I’ll
stay with you. Don’t give me such a look. I’m an archangel and no animal bite,
poisonous or not, will kill me. I won’t argue about this.”
Anastasia
reluctantly nodded her head. She would have preferred he go and have his hand
taken care of, but she was glad he would stay at her side. With
Lorn
sick, he was now the only one of her companions she
completely trusted.
The
solarium was filled with plants the likes of which Anastasia had never before
seen. Tall, fern-like plants with leaves trimmed in purple; flowers in colors
so garish they hardly seemed organic; vines with red thorns creeping across the
floors and up the walls. The combination of scents left the air feeling heavy
and thick.
Floor to
ceiling windows covered one entire wall, allowing the solarium to be filled
with the misty silver light which permeated the Land of Midnight. Where it
might come from, Anastasia could not hazard a guess, as no moon or stars were
in evidence.
Beyond
the windows, the land rolled away in grass covered waves. It was a pretty
sight, but not one Anastasia could enjoy. She had too much on her mind to worry
over. Simon scratched at the bandage on his hand as he stared out the window.
His expression suggested he was deep in thought, but she was too afraid to ask
what he might be thinking about. What had a mind to think on these days but
dark thoughts? She had enough of those on her own without adding his.
Silence
haunted the Solarium until Oracle’s echoing footfalls reached their ears.
Anastasia turned toward the path between the plants, her heart beating out an
anxious rhythm in her chest. Oracle came up the path and Anastasia searched her
face for some sign as to
Lorn’s
fate, but it offered
nothing.
“I’m
sorry,” she said. “But your friend has died.”
Anastasia
pressed two hands to her eyes. Strong arms came around her and she turned to
bury her face in Simon’s chest. The back of her eyes burned, but no tears would
come.
Lorn’s
death hurt, but not so much as she might
have expected it to.
“
Shh
,” Simon ran his hand down the back of her head.
“Everything is going to be all right.”
“Oh, your
hand.” She pulled back and caught hold of his hand. “Now you must let Oracle
look at it.”
“First,
the reason we came.”
She would
have protested, but she had never seen such a look in his eyes before. This was
not the same Simon she had grown up with. Always they were friends, but there
was a hint of her being above him somehow because of her station. That was gone
now.
Simon
looked over her head at Oracle. “You know why we’re here. Tell us how to stop
the Cataclysm.”
“My, my,
you are the take charge sort, aren’t you?” Oracle wandered over to stare out
the window. “A grand city once lay in the valley below. It was a wondrous place
full of splendor and delight. A paradise of sorts. Enlightened. Artistic. Free.
People came from all over the realm to experience it. And they came here as
well. To the temple. To worship their gods. Thousands of them lined up along
the path, carrying candles with flames every shade of the rainbow. It was so
beautiful. And now it’s gone. Destroyed. Nothing left behind but a memory.”
“These
gods they came here to worship,” Simon said. “Are you one of them?”
Oracle
turned from the window. “How do you define a god? As a being of greater power
than its subordinates? Would you not fit such criteria?”
Simon
frowned. “I am no god.”
“Why
not?” she asked. “In your true form you are one of the most feared and
respected creatures of the
aether
. Do not the lesser
angels look on you with the same kind of worship and devotion as any would look
upon their gods, even if they do not refer to you as such?”
“Gods are
immortal,” Anastasia said. Hearing Oracle refer to Simon as a god made her
distinctly uneasy, though she couldn’t have said why. “They cannot die.”
“Really?” Oracle asked. “So you would use
immortality as a marker for a god? Doesn’t your religion dictate your soul
lives on forever after your body dies? Is that not the definition of
immortality? Are you, then, a god?”
“I...”
Anastasia flushed. “Of course not. I have no power. Gods have power unlike
mortal men and women.”
“Like
magic, you mean? Well, the lesser realm is fairly crawling with Magi and
illegal practitioners of witchcraft. So, I suppose they must be gods then.”
“That’s
not what I... I mean...” Anastasia made an exasperated noise. “You’re confusing
things. Are you a god or not? It is a simple question with a simple answer.”
Oracle
laughed. “Oh, child, there is no such thing as a simple question.”
“It
doesn’t matter anyway,” Simon broke in. “Forget it. I care not whether you are
a god, I only care if you know a way to prevent the Cataclysm without it
costing Ana her life.”
“The
Cataclysm will come about when the exiled gods are freed from their prisons,”
Oracle said. “It cannot be prevented, not forever. Eventually, the magic which
holds them will fail. It must.”
“Can’t we
rebind
them?” Selene asked. “It was elder powers who
imprisoned the gods in the first place, couldn’t they strengthen the spells?”
Oracle shook her head. “I’m afraid only the
elders of the time the original spells were cast can affect them now. Each
generation has its own, unique signature of magic. But those elders are all
dead now. Morpheus was the last.”
Selene’s
jaw tightened. “How did you know of my father’s murder?”
“I see
many things,” Oracle replied. “My name was not given me by chance.”
“So
you’re trying to say we can do nothing?” Simon asked. “There is no way to stop
the Cataclysm? I refuse to believe that.”
Selene
frowned as if a sudden thought had come to her. “What about Clarissa? I had not
heard of her death.”
“Clarissa.” Oracle made a dismissive noise. “She forfeited her status as
an elder and moved to the lesser plane ages ago.”
“But she
remains a higher power,” Simon said, relief creeping into his voice. “And she
can help us.”
“It’s a
slim chance,” Oracle said. “Much better to simply kill the girl now and be done
with it.”
Simon’s
arms tightened around Anastasia. “Not going to happen. I don’t care if you
are
a god, you aren’t going to touch her.”
“Such
fierce loyalty,” Oracle said. “
Mishkael
chose well in
making you her guardian. Very well, if you would seek out Clarissa, you must
return to the lesser realm. In a place called
Kartesk
is a desert, and within this desert is a temple. Clarissa resides there, though
she calls herself a Magus now and lays no claim to being a higher power.”
“Can you
send us to her?” Simon asked.
“I can,”
Oracle gazed intently at Anastasia. “If you insist upon going.”
Anastasia
stepped away from Simon’s securing embrace. “I want no more lives lost for my
sake. But if going to Clarissa will not endanger my companions, and if it won’t
hasten the approach of the Cataclysm, then I would go to this temple. If it
comes to it, I will willingly forfeit my life to save the realms, but if there
is any other way... Well, I’m no different than anyone else. I would prefer not
to die.”
“Then to
the temple you shall go.” Oracle returned to the window. She traced her fingers
across the glass and at each point of contact a crack appeared. These cracks
spread in a spider web pattern, radiating outward until the window was covered
in them.
Oracle
took a step back and blew her breath upon the window. Glass shattered outward
to reveal a new scene beyond; a crimson dawn spreading its bloody glow across
the stones of a temple standing pristine and white in the scouring desert
wind.
Simon
slipped his hand into Anastasia’s. “I’m right here with you.”
“I know.”
Together, they stepped through the rift.
**************************************************************
About The Author
Kyra Dune was born in
Oklahoma, but spent most of her life travelling with her family. She is the
author of more than two dozen fantasy novels, including:
Shadow of the Dragon
,
Elfblood
, and
Firebrand
.
As a child, her favorite stories were those that told of ordinary children
being whisked away to magical lands. She has yet to find her own secret
wardrobe or rabbit hole, but she hasn’t given up the search. You never know
what might be waiting over the next rainbow.
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