Oracle's Luck: Unraveled World Book 3

by Alicia Fabel

  “I can heal you,” said Vera.

  Rhena blinked slowly. “If I die, my webs would dissolve across the realm. My family would be able to release the kishi.”

  “I’m not going to try to kill you.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  Vera decided the truth was her best bet. “Because Earth is my home.”

  Rhena’s claw dug deeper into Vera’s gut. “Siphon.”

  “No… Well a little, but not like you think. Let me show you,” Vera rushed to summon her demas, demon, and scorpion. “I’m a mutt. And I’m part spider too.”

  “That is not possible.”

  “I get that a lot.” Vera rolled her eyes. “Look for the spider. It’s there.”

  Vera startled when Rhena opened a third set of smaller eyes. How many did she have? For that matter, how many would Vera have? Inside Vera’s well, a door shivered and creaked open. Vera nearly shrieked at the feel of the magic, like tiny spiders rushing over her skin. Holy no. Nope. Huh-uh. The magic sensed her repulsion and turned to skitter away. Crap. Wait, I’m sorry. But they didn’t listen. Apparently, they were sensitive.

  “You were telling the truth,” said Rhena. “But it doesn’t seem that it will do you or me any good.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset them.”

  “Them?” asked Rhena with a frown.

  “My magic,” Vera clarified.

  “Do you refer to all of your magics as if they were creatures of their own right?”

  “Uh, yeah?” Vera said it as a question, wondering how weird it was. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “No. Our magic is an extension of ourselves. It’s a tool to be wielded.”

  “I found that mine doesn’t react well to being wielded, per se. Plus, all my magics turn on each other when I try. Treating them like beings works pretty well, though.”

  “There must be much opposition inside you.”

  “Sometimes there are squabbles, but for the most part, it’s all good. It just takes a little getting used to.”

  Rhena squinted. “You are peculiar.”

  “Trust me, I know.” Vera’s mouth curved up ruefully. “Can you help me with my spiders? If I can get them to work with me, I think I can heal your leg.”

  “You don’t like spiders, do you?” asked Rhena.

  Vera didn’t answer. It seemed like a trick question with a spider claw digging into her and fangs dangling above her face.

  “It’s okay. Not many people do. It is probably my siblings’ fault and mine. We are not forgiving, and we do enjoy a meal regularly. Whether we need to eat or not.”

  “You think the fear of spiders across the realms is from back when the world was still whole?”

  “It is the only way I can understand the irrational fear of something so small that creates such beauty.”

  “Yeah, well they have fangs and bite too,” Vera pointed out. “And they crawl into your mouth when you sleep.”

  “Any spider that stupid deserves to be devoured,” replied Rhena. “But I believe humans bite each other more often than all the spiderlings in the world. Human young are vile.”

  Vera had to admit that she’d never been bitten by a spider that she could recall, but she’d been bitten by kids when she was little—a half dozen times at least. But still. They were spiders. With eight creepy legs.

  “It’s all in your head,” said Rhena. “If someone hadn’t taught you to fear spiders, would you?”

  “Probably not. Unless one bit me,” Vera eyed Rhena’s fangs.

  “At this moment, I’m considering not.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Your magic won't bite either,” said Rhena.

  “Let's try again?” Vera released a slow breath, steeling herself.

  Rhena blinked all six eyes, and the spiders skittered forward from Vera’s void. This time more slowly. Vera held still against the feel of thousands of tiny legs. Be patient with me. I want to get to know you.

  That seemed to be enough. While the magic preferred to angle toward Rhena than her, it didn’t run away. So they liked Rhena better than her. She couldn’t blame them. I want to heal her. Help me? Vera jerked when her stomach tightened. Rhena released her.

  “What was that?” Vera peeled up her shirt and took slow, shallow breaths to keep from losing it. She’d made webbing from her belly button. I will not freak out. I will not freak out…I am totally freaking out. Her spiders shifted warily, and Vera sent grateful vibes. You guys did so good. I think. Vera touched the white mass.

  “It doesn’t stick to me.”

  “It’s your web,” said Rhena. “If it stuck to its maker, I’d get trapped in my own web.”

  “Good point.” Here goes nothing. She pulled the mass away from her skin. If she didn’t think too much about it, it was like a cross between clay and slime. She took a scared peek at her stomach. It looked normal. But no matter how it looked, she’d never get over the fact that she had a superpower that allowed her to secrete spider web from her belly button. Kale and Ferrox, if either of you mentions this little talent to anyone, I will strangle you.

  “Use it as a bandage,” instructed Rhena.

  This keeps getting better. Vera had to touch a massive spider leg—a mangled spider leg. She swallowed hard and tried to blank her mind. The less she dwelled on what she was doing, the better off she would be. Moving quickly, she shaped the web over Rhena’s stump. Rhena whistled on an inhale. Vera froze.

  “Sorry,” Vera said. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

  “Just finish.”

  Vera did and then stepped back. “Will that work?”

  Rhena flexed her stump. “It will work.”

  “So, you’re not going to eat me? Or Kale?”

  “No.” Rhena backed away. “Why are you traveling with the Guardian? Does it have anything to do with why he looks like that?”

  Vera knew she meant the extra legs and didn’t dare mention that it was Ferrox too. “I’m trying to find the person responsible for his transformation.”

  “You think they’re in Zerzura?” Rhena climbed in the web.

  “No, I’d hoped the soul-eaters could summon someone who knew her, but that didn’t work out.”

  Rhena approached Kale. “Try anything, and I will call Yousef over, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She cut him free.

  On the ground, Kale stretched a couple of muscles. “How good is Yousef at hunting?”

  “He’s great at hunting spiders, but not much else.”

  In reply, Yousef grunted unhappily.

  “How about I find you some lunch, so you don’t have to wait for it to cross your web,” offered Kale.

  “It seems I will be in your debt as well as your…not-charge.”

  “If you keep the kishi demons locked away, I will always be in your debt,” Kale countered.

  “Same goes for me,” added Vera.

  “I plan to. Especially since it seems I have relatives in Earth.” Rhena was referring to Vera. “I feel there is a story to be told about what has happened in Earth since the Unraveling.”

  Vera shared all she knew about siphons and humans while Kale disappeared into the jungle.

  “So the woman you seek knows the future.”

  “But I don’t think she’s an oracle.” Unless zombies know how to beat my lie-detector powers.

  “And she wove a list into someone’s mind,” mused Rhena.

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  “Did you know that spiders didn’t always know how to weave?”

  “I didn’t.” Vera had no idea how that was relevant. “I thought it was something spiders were born knowing.”

  “It is now. It is knowledge passed on from a mother to her children before they even hatch. But it wasn’t always knowledge we possessed.”

  “How did you learn?”

  “I am not that old but our legends, which are woven into the walls of our city, tell about a people who wove the very fa
brics of fate.”

  “I’ve read about the Fates.” But Vera hadn’t known they were real. “They were supposedly women who shared an eye and could cut and weave the threads of people’s lives.”

  “That is an odd myth. But I can see how it might be translated as such after so long. The Fates became so disillusioned by the threads they saw, and by the histories they wove, that they retreated from the world. Most people forgot them, but we remember because they taught us to weave. They had their own eyes, however.”

  “Do you know what realm they come from?”

  “I do not. Our people tried to find them but were never able to. My ancestors took the knowledge of weaving, given to us by the weavers, and wove our city in their memory.”

  “It’s all a spider’s web then?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do people not stick to the walls?”

  “They do. No one enters the city except my family. Not willingly anyway.”

  “Wow.” Vera was one hundred percent certain she wanted to see that. But only from a distance. “You know, I have a friend who weaves.”

  “That is an interesting coincidence.”

  Vera bit her lip, heart stuttering. “I’m beginning to not believe in coincidences.”

  “That is wise.”

  “But even if Marianna is one of the Fates, there’s no way she’s part of Suzie’s network. She’s been helping us save Earth.”

  “Perhaps not. But maybe you should ask if she knows another of the Fates.”

  Vera wanted to say that Marianna would’ve said something if she knew anything. Except that was not the case with the weaver, who kept her secrets close. Could she be one of the Fates? Vera had never thought to show Marianna and the others a picture of Suzie. Could they have known each other? “She’s been trying to get me to visit forever, but I’ve been too busy.” Vera tipped her head back to stare into the canopy while her thoughts organized. “She always seems to know more than is possible.” Like one of the Fates would. “I think it’s time to go see her.”

  “If the world is in as bad a shape as you describe, I think you should plan to visit her soon.”

  “That might be harder than you’d think.”

  “Why?”

  “Marianna finds you,” said Vera. “You don’t find her.”

  14

  Jemma was the first person Vera saw when they made it back to the meadow. She had a new sketchbook open on her lap. Vera was surprised to see the girl keeping company with one of Mimi’s brothers while he watched over the gates. Partly because the girl was always nervous around the brothers, but also because she expected the girl would be under lock and key.

  “Hey, Jemma.”

  “Vera! That spider was terrifying. Are you okay?” Her insider information about Vera’s experience in Zerzura was unnerving.

  At least she seems to be warming up to all of us. “Yeah, I think the zombie was scarier, though.”

  “I’m going to go talk to Braxas,” Kale whispered into her ear and then smoothly escaped.

  “Did you know that Seb is a tiger?” Jemma asked. “He looks just like those shadow tigers.”

  “He’s not a tiger and not transparent,” argued the brother who must be Pili. She needed to ask Jemma how she kept the twins straight.

  “I know, I know. You guys morph into animals. You aren’t animals who morph into beings,” recited Jemma.

  “There’s a difference?” asked Vera.

  “Don’t ask a dragon that question or they’ll probably gut you,” warned Pili.

  “Wait, dragons can change form?”

  “You didn’t think Braxas could fit in Mother’s bed in his natural form did you?” asked Pili.

  “Uhhh. That was not something I’d thought about.” She frowned. “What do you morph into, Pili?”

  “He’s a hawk,” Jemma volunteered.

  “But your brother’s a tiger?”

  “We can morph into whatever we want, but once we pick, that’s the form we keep for good. Cats and birds are the best choices. And those are what we are most familiar with in Heliopolis. Except for my sister, who chose an Earth cat—that made some fun waves back home.”

  “Speaking of cats,” said Vera. “Have either of you seen the weaver recently?”

  “Who?” asked Pili.

  “Marianna,” Vera clarified.

  “Don’t think I know her,” he replied.

  “Is Maiden-Mother around?” Vera asked. “She’d know.”

  Jemma tapped a pencil against a blank page. “I think she just goes by Mother.”

  “Yeah, that’s too weird for me,” Vera replied and got a look of confusion from them both.

  “She had a meeting with some of the university staff,” said Pili.

  “Okay, I’ll see if she’s seen Marianna.” Vera started off.

  Jemma called, “Oh Vera, I finished that drawing you asked me to do.”

  “Perfect. Can I get that from you in a while?

  “Sure thing.” She ducked her head, pencil moving across the page.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that waking a dragon is a dangerous thing to do?” Braxas glared at Kale through one eye.

  “If she did, I don’t remember.”

  “Well, I’m telling you now. Go away.” Braxas closed his eye.

  “I need a favor.”

  “I don’t do favors.”

  “Even if it involves protecting Mother?”

  Braxas sighed and opened both eyes. “What do you want?”

  “A spider recently reminded me that dragons are good at killing things that are hard to kill.”

  “It’s one of our best qualities.”

  “I want your oath that you’ll kill me when I’m beyond saving.”

  “How would I know when that is? You two-legs all seem chronically insane to me.”

  Kale wanted to point out that he didn’t have two legs, but decided it wasn’t worth the debate. “If you fear for Mother’s wellbeing.”

  “I could eliminate you now,” Braxas suggested. “Then we wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

  “Trust me, I’ve considered asking that of you.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “In the end, because I’m selfish.”

  “I understand.” Braxas nodded. “I should’ve returned to my pride a long time ago, but I’m still here. Following after a witch.”

  “I will not give up fighting for my mind until I’m sure the world is no longer falling apart. That’s the last good thing I can do for Vera.”

  “I wonder how she’ll feel about your death.”

  “She cannot love me, so she will move on,” said Kale.

  “I’ve seen how she looks at you. You’re sure about that?”

  “I watched Alalana take away her ability to fall in love. It’s the only reassuring part about all of this. Maybe someday she’ll get it back and give her heart to another.”

  “I would not be okay with that if it were my witch.”

  “I won’t be around to hunt that man down, so it will be fine. What about you? What will happen when you can no longer ignore the summons of the pride and have to leave Mother?”

  “I’m considering kidnapping her and hiding us in a cave somewhere.”

  “Does she know this?”

  “I’ve mentioned it. She seems to think I’m joking.”

  Kale knew the dragon was not. “What’s stopping you?”

  “She would despise me for taking her away from her people when she believes they need her.”

  “They do need her.”

  “That is why we are both still here. And I will help you all fix this cluster mess so she can be free of her responsibilities.”

  “I am doing all I can to see that happens sooner than later,” said Kale. “But I need to make sure Vera is safe from me while I do.”

  “You have my oath. If you become a danger to her, I’ll see you dead. If you heal this world so I can take my witch from here, I’ll see you dead b
efore we go, if you wish it.”

  “Thank you, Braxas.”

  “Oh, it will be my great pleasure.” The dragon smirked, lowered his head to the ground, and resumed his sleeping position.

  A young boy sat on the floor outside the computer-lab-turned-conference room. Raised voices floated through the cracks of the closed door. Vera opted to wait until the meeting was over rather than intruding. The boy noticed Vera and gave a toothy grin. He selected one of his chicken toys—of all things—and brought it to her. Vera accepted it with a smile. She shook it back and forth and clucked softly, which made the boy giggle. Then he rammed his chicken into hers, and she dropped it just as the doors open.

  “Vera?”

  “Mitch.” Vera accepted a warm hug from the head of the Monroe coven. The leaders of the other covens filed out. A couple acknowledged her. Most did not. Behind them was a group of various world leaders, including the ones she’d met earlier. “Fun meeting?”

  “Everyone’s on edge being bound so closely to Earth.”

  “It’s not like they can unhook themselves and just become their own world,” said Vera.

  Mitch didn’t respond.

  “Are they actually suggesting that?” Vera didn’t think that was possible.

  “Some think they can find a way, but Mother won’t hear it.”

  “Hey, buddy.” Mitch swooped the young boy up. He used his toy chick to peck Mitch’s nose.

  “Well, that explains the chicken figurines,” said Vera.

  “This is Leah’s son,” Mitch said.

  “He’s gotten so big.” He’d been a baby the last time she’d seen him.

  “He’s going to be three soon. And he loves chickens.”

  “I love chickens too,” Vera confided in the boy. “I have a chicken named Eggbert.”

  “Bert,” repeated the boy, wiggling to get down. When Mitch set him on his feet, he dug into his pocket and pulled out yet another chicken. He held it up to show Vera proudly. “Bert.” The chicken toy had only one eye.

  “Bert is his favorite,” Mitch told her.

  “I thought Marianna adopted him?”

  “I’m not sure who adopted him way back when, but they brought him back a couple of months ago—all rehabilitated. He was wandering around the barnyard one morning like he’d never left. Scared a couple of the younger kids with his eye missing and mangled beak, but he’s been well-behaved around the nests. Luke here has taken a shine to him and vice versa. Bert would sleep in the nursery if we’d let him.”