by Jada Fisher
Maedryell screamed, really screamed, and suddenly thunder boomed ahead. It seemed a lot of seer/oracle magic resulted in storms. I wondered if there was a scientific reason for that or if my ancestors were just really into drama.
But then a bolt of lightning cracked right down through the glass and to where Maedryell was kneeling. There was an awful scream and a hiss, then the room filled with smoke.
I heard chanting again, different but just as powerful, winding its way into my ears and burrowing into my brain. I wasn’t going to be able to forget those words again if I tried. And I didn’t want to.
It was awful, it was so terribly sad, but I was learning ancient history that had been lost to my people. History that I could possibly spread to them. That could make me a better shepherd. History that made me understand the mess we were in a lot better and make sure that I learned from it, so it never repeated itself.
More thunder, more lightning, more power sucking into the center of the room until it was like I couldn’t even breathe, and then, just as suddenly as she’d downed the potion, all of it stopped.
The smoke stopped spinning and coiling, rushing back like someone was playing a video in reverse. The thunder faded and a gentle rain began to fall, tinkling across the shattered glass everywhere. The council stopped their chanting, and all stood at the edges of the meticulously-carved circle.
And at the center of it stood the translucent, intimidating form that I was so familiar with. She almost looked peaceful, floating there for a moment, her skull pristinely white and her form relaxed. But then there was a shudder, and I watched as she gasped for the first time.
“And thus it is done,” the leader of the council said, waving their hand and making the candle at their feet go out. “Begin your journey, Shepherd, and blessings be with you.”
There was the slightest stutter, the woman’s hand raising toward Santha as if she had been tempted to move toward her, but then it dropped, and she gave a single nod. Without another word, she disappeared.
I thought that was where it was going to end—that the vision would just spit us back into reality and we could get on with saving the world—but it didn’t. Our group watched in confusion as the council members began to file out, one of them calling for the maids before Santha said she would take care of things.
Soon, it was only her in the room. I was confused, that was for sure, but that confusion turned to pure alarm when she let out a choked sob and looked right at me.
“Please,” she whispered, tears running down her face. She looked so young. Younger than Maedryell even. “Tell her I’m waiting for her. As long as it takes.”
I tried to say something, ask her how she saw me, but I was so stunned and surprised by the fact that she saw me that everything started fading around us. The vision was ended, but I wanted to know.
“Who are you?” I called, blackness pooling under my feet and welling up my legs. It’d already snatched away half of my circle and I knew I had seconds, if not less.
“I’m the person she gave up everything to save,” the woman said before the whole room shattered into nothing.
We crashed into our bodies so hard that most of us fell, landing in various ungraceful heaps. Thankfully, nobody cracked their heads, and both Bronn and Mal were on us, helping us up and making sure everyone was alright.
Maedryell was at the edge of the scene, watching us, and I could see the worry in her features. Funny how she had been someone who once struck terror into my heart but now I looked at her quite fondly.
There was a whole lot of sadness there too, of course. Gosh, oracle history was depressing. Did we ever have happy times?
Maybe I could change that.
I gave a pointed look to Mickey and she caught on, gathering up the others and going over everything they had observed to put together the ritual. To their credit, everyone seemed to be adapting well, but I assumed that it was easier to accept bizarre things in an apocalypse.
When they were huddled, I walked to Maedryell, offering her my good hand. She took it, a curious expression on her face.
“I have something to show you,” I said. “Can you go through my memories again? Like you did when you showed me what happened with my parents?”
“Yes, that’s something I can do.”
“Alright, then I’d like you to look at what just happened. You can look on your own, though. I don’t need to be there.”
“What’s the point of this? I don’t need to see the ritual. I lived through it, after all. Even if some of the details are a bit…hazy.”
“Just trust me on this, okay?”
“Alright.”
I felt a cold shudder go up my arm and into my head, almost feeling like a vision, but it was over in just a blink. The dryness of my mouth told me that it had actually been longer, but all the other oracles were still discussing things so it couldn’t have been too long.
“Did you see it?” I asked, not wanting to let go until I was sure the message had been sent. There was something about that small woman, about how tenderly she’d interacted with Maedryell, that told me forgetting to share her words would be one of the cruelest things I could do. I didn’t know if she was a best friend. A sister. A cousin. Even an adopted child. It wasn’t like I knew either of their ages. All I knew was that there was history there that went as deep as what Mallory and I had created together.
What I wouldn’t give to see Mallory again. But if the spell worked, I was possibly giving that up forever.
…I hadn’t thought of that.
Maedryell didn’t answer for a long moment. Several long moments. In fact, it was such a long pause that I almost asked her again, but then she spoke.
“I did.”
I hesitated, not sure if that was the end. But then she dropped my hand and I figured that was that. I didn’t really know what to say either, so I just gave her a nod and went to return to the group of oracles to figure out the details we needed. That spell circle had been complicated. But then Maedryell spoke again and I froze in my tracks.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. And for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she’s going to be excited to see you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do, and you should take my word for it. I am an oracle and all.”
“That you are, Daniella Masters. You are perhaps the greatest example of what we should be that I’ve ever met. And I have been alive a very long time.”
Now I really didn’t know what to say to that. Flushing, I gave an awkward wave and joined up with the huddled oracles.
We had a plan to finish.
9
Building a Legacy
“I hope this works,” Bronn said, standing from where he had finished carving the spell circle into the tightly-packed dirt below our feet. “I mean, your plans always work. I’m not sure why I’m feeling so…nervous.”
“Probably because the worlds are ending, your people are probably dead, and we’re doing something that’s never been done in the history of ever,” Mal helpfully supplied from where she was using some sort of power tool to work on another section of the circle.
“Well, when you put it that way,” I grumbled, but she had a point. I looked to Maedryell, who was mostly just floating around, observing things. I could tell that the other oracles were mildly unnerved by her, but thankfully, most of them were wise enough not to say anything.
For a bit I had wondered why she wouldn’t help, didn’t point out that a rune was wrong or that the council had done this instead of that, but then I realized that she might not actually remember. Most of those things happened when she was a living being, and she’d been both terrified and full of guilt. It made sense that the details of what emphasis they put on which syllable of the chant might elude her.
“And you’re sure as soon as we finish this that Faeldrus will come here?” Although we’d moved from the cave in the dead realm we’d been in, we had been setting up for nearly half a
day. I was surprised he wasn’t banging at the door already.
“I’m sure. This is the underside of that pocket dimension he was trapped in. I’m sure this is the last place he wants to be and the last he’ll ever look. It helps that I’m shielding you as best I can.”
I stood bolt upright at that. “We’re in his prison?”
“Yes, why?”
There was a whole lot about that that made me panic, but I swallowed and tried to go for the least paranoid. “It…looks different. I’m not used to seeing life here.”
Granted, there wasn’t a lot of life. Sickly, grabby grass with nettles in a giant, flat field surrounded by dark mountains, but it certainly wasn’t a city that looked like it had been bombed.
“Well, like I said, we are underneath it. It’s just a pocket dimension with a single world. It’s not round like yours.” She pointed upwards. “That’s also why there’s no stars. No night here. Just day. And occasionally some storms.”
It was just too much to get into when I already had so much to deal with. “Right. Well, moving on then.”
And surprisingly, we did move on. It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two later that Krisjian came up to me, something green streaked across one of his cheeks, and handed me a vial. It wasn’t the same potion that was given to Maedryell when she’d taken it, but one entirely different with a different task.
It hadn’t exactly been easy for all of us to transpose what parts of the ritual we’d observed that would allow us to move the curse along, but there was something…innate about it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was as if we’d absorbed the knowledge of the council members we’d watched.
We were also at the point where I knew not ask questions. Being an oracle was weird sometimes.
“I think we are ready.”
“You think so?”
He nodded, before hastily pulling me into a hug. “No matter what happens, I’m glad you found me.”
Oh.
Oh.
I wrapped my one arm around him, my heart swelling. “I’m happy you listened, Krisjian. I love you dearly.”
We held each other for a very long moment, and I found myself not wanting to let go. I’d watched him go from a scared, skinny young man who hardly spoke English to the brilliant, strong, capable oracle he had grown into.
And if things went right, he would actually have a chance to keep on growing and turn into the amazing man I saw inside of him. And I would get to see it. I would be able to bake him an oversized cake and embarrass him in front of his friends. I could get him into a school! If he wanted to, of course. I was fine with the online courses that he was taking with Mal.
But we had to get the ritual right.
We parted only for me to see Mal, Sok, Mickey, and Bronn all standing there, looking at me expectantly.
“Alright,” I said with a laugh that was layered with tears. Happy, loving tears. “Who’s next?”
To my surprise, it was Sok, who practically threw herself at me. Her skinny arms wrapped around my waist and her face pressed into my chest.
We stood that way for another long moment, rocking slightly, and I felt so much. She’d been in such a terrible, awful, truly cruel situation when I found her, deprived of everything a person deserved, and I couldn’t wait for all of this to be over so I could take her on a tour of everything. I wanted her to go to an amusement park. The movies! I wanted to stuff her silly with good food and help her find all her favorites. I wanted to learn ASL with her and be a better ally with her deafness. I wanted so much for her, and we were so close to getting her that.
She moved away, sniffling slightly, but then that resolute look settled onto her features. I gave her another nod and then it was Mal who was shuffling up.
“You’re not so bad, you know. If you had to run into anyone in my awful dimension, I’m glad it was me.”
“I’m glad it was you too, Mal.”
“You never treated me as a replacement for her, you know. Or a copy. I was always Mal to you, and I appreciate that.”
Mal didn’t need to clarify who she meant, we both knew. I just bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You are your own person. You always have been.”
“You got that right.”
Then it was Mickey. She didn’t say anything, what could be said for sisters who shared their whole lives? For so long, we’d only had each other to cling to. We were each other’s protectors, each other’s guardians, best friends.
So, we just hugged. We hugged and just breathed together, feeling all the things that we couldn’t say.
Then it was Bronn’s turn. He smiled crookedly at me, those eyes of his flashing. “Did you ever think, when you were running away from me at that café, that we’d end up like this?”
“Definitely not,” I said, raising my arm and circling it around his shoulders. “But everyone dreams of being with their true love forever, right?”
He let out a huffing sort of chuckle. “We really are gonna be together forever, aren’t we?”
“Provided that this ritual works and we manage to kill an unkillable enemy, yeah.”
“I can’t wait.”
He bent down and kissed me again.
It wasn’t the desperate, needy kiss that we’d just had earlier. Instead it was soft, and it was sweet. It was full of so much hope that I could practically melt under it.
And maybe I did, because we didn’t part until someone cleared their throat again. I blinked, standing back and flushing slightly.
“Shall we get on with things?” I asked, finally tearing my gaze away from Bronn to look at the others. Princeton seemed amused, the older woman looked smitten, and most of the others appeared like they maybe felt like a third wheel.
There was a general murmur of agreement, but the nerves of the whole room jumped up a notch. I couldn’t blame them. I felt like my stomach was going to fall out, and I wasn’t even the one who was going to be doing most of the proceeds.
“I love you,” Mickey said, catching my hand at the last moment as everyone moved to the edges of the circle while Bronn, Maedryell, and I moved inside of it. “No matter what happens here, I’ve seen all that you’ve done, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
“Thanks, Sis. I love you too. Always will.”
“You got that right.”
And then we were taking our places. I was still going to chant, still going to put as much power into the room as I could, but I couldn’t be at the edge of the circle. Not to do what I needed to do. I wasn’t going to be in control of the situation, and I was going to have to trust all of them to perform a spell that had never been performed before. A spell that had never been meant to be performed.
Was never meant to be performed.
Oh well. A first time for everything.
The others joined hands outside the circle and the energy of the room responded in kind. It was like our magic knew something was up and was preparing for it, bucking and eager to pitch in for the fight.
And there was certainly going to be one hell of a fight on our hands.
“For what it’s worth, even if none of this pans out, I’m glad I didn’t reap you, Davie.”
I laughed, because how else could I respond to that? “I’m glad you didn’t too.”
Maybe she wanted to say more. Maybe I wanted to say more. Maybe I wanted to turn to Bronn at my side and kiss him senseless. But we didn’t do any of that because the chanting had started.
It was time to see if we’d pulled off the master plan or had put all our eggs in one basket.
I felt the same thrum that I’d felt in the vision, the pulse of power that had been stirred up by the words of the council. Some of them were the same, some were different, but they were what we’d all agreed upon.
Maybe we were insane to think we could do something like that, but it’d felt right. Like whatever the force was that compelled the magic running through oracles wanted us to do it. Wanted us to win.
&nb
sp; Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
But wishful thinking or not, the power thrummed. It built. It bubbled and brooked. Snapped and popped. It was stronger than I’d ever felt before, and it made me wonder what could happen if we were a nation. A unified people rather than orphans scattered across the realms.
Future goals, future goals. For the moment, we needed to get through our greatest tribulation.
“Maedryell of the Barvyss,” Princeton’s voice called out amongst the rising rush of magic that was filling my ears. “You have served your debt to your people, we relinquish you from your punishment, your ledger paid in full. Do you hear us?”
“I hear you.”
“Then we free you from your bonds, Maedryell of the Barvyss. We release you from the fetters and responsibilities that have kept you bound. Do you accept this release?”
“I do. Oh, by the ancestors, I do.”
“And who do you name in your place?”
“I name Daniella Masters, daughter of the lost and mother to the next generation of seers. I would not trust another.”
Oh, I hadn’t known that she was going to say all that. That… That was a lot.
“Daniella Masters, do you accept this duty? It will be unending, it will be eternal, until you find one worthy to replace you.”
“I accept it,” I said, closing my eyes and feeling the magic rush through me. Gosh, it felt so good. So full of potential.
“Then name your counterpart. This will be your anchor in the dark. Your balance to keep you in step. The two of your fates will be wound together, bound as one, never to be parted again.”
I took a deep breath. Then a deeper one. Then maybe one more deep one after them. “I name Bronn, the dragon prince beside me, to be my counterpart and take this burden with me. Together, we will serve our people and make sure that we will thrive and prosper as our enemy has prevented.”
“So, you have spoken. So, it will be.” He didn’t need to ask Bronn if he consented, apparently. Part of the way the spell worked. After all, it wasn’t like they’d asked Faeldrus if he was okay with them locking him away and making his wild card of coming back from the dead go up in smoke.
