The Oracle's Harem

by Devyn Forrest

  “We saw her die,” I suddenly said, my nostrils flared. “I know it’s my fault.”

  Professor Binion’s hand flashed over his fuzzy hair. He then allowed it to flutter to his side. Silence continued to stretch out between us. Finally, he uttered, “I’m glad you’re here. With them. Stay safe, Ivy, until we decide what to do next. This ancient magic.... It’s clearly nothing to mess around with. That could have been you under the rubble.”

  “I wish it had been,” I whispered.

  Professor Binion gave the boys a firm nod, then turned back and hustled down the stairs of the boys dorm. Raphael cut the door closed and pressed his hand against one side of the wood, staring at the ground.

  Slowly, I began to return to some sense of normality. I rose from bed and stripped off my wet clothes. Raphael changed the sheets, so that we could all lay down together—me in just an old t-shirt of Raphael’s, surrounded on either side by Raphael and Quintin. Ezra sat upright in the chair in the corner, his blue eyes darker than normal, seemingly fixated on something in the air just beyond him. I knew that after seeing that girl die, neither of us would be the same.

  As I lay there on Raphael’s bed, I listened to the rain continue to patter, the thunder continue to blare. I shuddered against their firm bodies. I had no desire to do anything at all but have them hold me close. The heartsickness I felt was all-encompassing. I couldn’t imagine ever living without it.

  Finally, I spoke.

  “How much worse do you suppose it can get?”

  None of the boys answered for a long time, so long that I actually assumed maybe I hadn’t said the words at all; maybe they’d just echoed through my skull.

  But finally, Quintin mustered the strength to answer.

  “Never ask that question, Ivy,” he said.

  “Why not?” I whispered, my voice cracking with sadness.

  “Because. I have a feeling that you won’t like what answer you get back,” Quintin returned.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, I didn’t have the energy to go downstairs for breakfast. I stretched my legs beneath the sheets and opened my eyes to the foggy glow of the room. The rain made it feel as though you were constantly looking through a piece of plastic. Everything was hazy.

  Ezra was nowhere to be found. I had a strange feeling he was mad at me, especially since I’d taken so many risks the previous day and put myself in danger. Of course, I knew the reasons why I’d done it, and had tried to explain them. But Ezra was volatile, the kind of person to stew in his emotions for hours at a time. I couldn’t blame him. Still, his absence as I lay there between Quintin and Raphael was palpable. I needed all of them to feel whole.

  Quintin left for twenty minutes and returned with coffees, orange juices, bagels, and a large thing of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes. I ate sparingly, hardly able to chew. Raphael urged me to eat more.

  “You’re going to need your strength,” he said, which I knew actually meant, Ivy, we don’t know what’s going to happen next. Just eat something so we know you can stay upright and conscious.

  Still, to me, the scrambled eggs tasted like plastic, the bagel was horribly stiff, and even the orange juice had a tang like a punch, so that I only wanted to swallow it tiny sips at a time.

  Obviously, there was to be no class that day. We received a notification for it on our phones, but we hardly blinked at it. When I’d eaten a sufficient amount of food, according to Raphael, I mustered the strength to don my now-dried clothes from the previous day and walk through the rain toward the girls’ dorm. The boys really didn’t want me to go, but I told them I had to check on Celeste. I ached to see her again after so long. I felt like I’d traveled a great journey and aged at least fifteen years.

  When I arrived at Celeste’s door, I found it already cracked. A slight sob escaped through the doorframe. Slowly, I creaked the door open to find her again at the edge of her bed, her face in her hands and her shoulders shaking.

  Guilt permeated everything in my life. This felt no different. I felt like I’d broken my bubbly and vibrant best friend. Before, in the old days, she’d been the quickest to make a joke, to bounce around, to flirt with every boy she met. Now, she was a shell of her previous self.

  “Celeste?” I murmured.

  She turned her head swiftly to catch me there. I half-expected her to point at me, to say, “Get the hell out!” But of course, no matter what kind of monstrosities I represented, there would never be lost love between us.

  Celeste opened her arms, and I rushed toward her and held onto her, as though she was a raft and I would have sunk into the depths otherwise.

  “What happened?” she murmured. “Everyone said there’s a dead body. That you were there....”

  I cut back and mopped up my wet cheeks. “It’s so fucking complicated. The lightning, the thunder, the anger permeating through the air.... It’s all a result of this ancient magic, attempting to pinpoint where I am.”

  Celeste sniffled. “I was so worried about you last night. I couldn’t sleep. I figured you were just with the boys, but I still got up and checked on your bedroom every few hours. I wanted so badly for everything to be all right.”

  I squeezed her hand sadly. “I don’t think anything is ever going to be all right again.”

  Suddenly, the headmaster’s voice barreled through the air around us—a kind of magical announcement.

  “Students and professors. We will have a meeting in the auditorium in fifteen minutes’ time. Please make your way there safely, moving together in groups. Thank you.”

  Celeste and I huddled together as we walked to the auditorium. Around us were other students, grouped together and fearful. The clouds had grown even darker than previously; they seemed to press down on us, so that our shoulders dropped forward and we stared at the ground as we walked.

  When we reached the auditorium, Professor Springer stood at the front of the student body. She looked jittery, strange, and her eyes kind of bounced around us as we all sat down. I imagined what Professor Springer had wanted when she’d first joined Origins Supernatural as a witch professor. Surely, she’d just wanted an easy life, a way to get through without being too lonely. After all, she had no husband, no children.

  Now, she’d gotten way more than she’d bargained for.

  “Good morning, students,” she said. Her voice was dark, gritty. Ominous. “Today I have a rather sad announcement to make. In light of recent events, myself, the headmaster, and several other professors have banded together and decided that the school year must come to a close early. Parents and relatives and guardians have been notified of this, as well. It’s regretful, of course, but so necessary, to ensure that some day soon, we can all return to Origins Supernatural Academy and continue our course work. Someday soon, my students, the storm clouds will clear, and we will be here for a bright new day.

  “I wish to also call attention to the fact that we lost one of our own yesterday. Margorie was a very bright and marvelous young student, a girl with a smile ready for anyone at any given time. She was rather talented, although, it must be said, never particularly taken with the supernatural world. She was humble, kind, and wanted to live out the sort of life her parents, who are both humans, had. Good rest her soul.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach and seemed to burn in acid. Celeste squeezed my arm, and, in this contact, I felt a flash of her horrible fear, just how powerful it was. Hell, I could feel everyone’s fear. It was almost as thick as the clouds above us, and it lurked in the air over the auditorium. I could also feel the general rage toward me. My name was on everyone’s tongue.

  Whatever the hell this was, it was Ivy Whitestone’s fault.

  Whatever the hell this was, I’d ruined their schoolyear and put them in danger.

  As Celeste and I walked out of the auditorium, she said, “I just don’t know, Ivy. If you’re meant to stay on at the academy, are you actually going to be safe here? Maybe you should come back with me. Stay with Mom and
I....”

  Of course, there was nothing on the planet that I wanted more than that.

  “I would never put you and your mom and dad in danger like that,” I whispered.

  “Then maybe I should stay here with you?” Celeste offered. “I won’t be able to sleep all summer long, worrying about you here in the middle of a never-ending storm.”

  “Come on. Your mom needs you right now,” I told her. “She just lost her best friend.” I swallowed, yet again overwhelmed with feeling. “I can’t imagine what I would feel if, you know. If something happened to...”

  Of course, Celeste knew what I meant. Again, she squeezed my elbow. I forced any concept of her future away from me as hard as I could. In that moment, I wanted to live in the present. I wanted to see my beautiful best friend’s smile and the flash of her eyes and remember all the good times. I didn’t necessarily want to find out if she died—or if, ultimately, I was the reason she left the world.

  At this point, it seemed more than likely.

  As we walked back toward the dorms, the boys caught up with us. Ezra seemed cold, snappish, just as I’d suspected he would be, but Raphael seemed dominant and sure, blaring, “You know that we’re staying here.”

  I knew there was no arguing with them. They’d pledged to care for me. I knew I would never fully comprehend what had made me so lucky.

  As we walked toward the dorms, we noticed a little memorial toward the side of the arboretum. Clearly, Margorie’s dear friends had brought together several bouquets of flowers around a large tree, along with photographs of the beautiful girl and little trinkets that had obviously been found in her bedroom. The sight of it felt like a punch to the stomach. I gaped at the gorgeous smile in the photograph, a face that seemed so utterly sure of its future. It hadn’t imagined it would ever reckon with the likes of me.

  As I stood there, staring at the memorial, a slight cackle forced my head around. Margot and Zelda stood together, both domineering, wearing all black—their eyes blaring into me, labeling me as the campus monster.

  “There she is,” Margot said, her voice utterly snarky. “The murderer.”

  Zelda burst into volatile laughter. I hated it, hated her, hated all that we’d been through together, which she would never name in front of Margot. It felt so false, so jarring. Suddenly, I yanked my head around and glared at them with more anger than I’d ever felt in my life.

  Immediately, both of their faces changed to reveal their fright.

  “Your eyes,” Zelda whispered. “They’re bright red.”

  It didn’t take Margot long to return to her previous brightness, however. She forced her lips to yank upright. “You’re just showing off, Ivy Whitestone. Those red eyes can’t do anything to us. Not really.”

  “You just called me a murderer. What do you actually know about what my eyes can do?” I asked her. I could feel it, now: the burn in my irises, causing this strange tint.

  Great, I thought. Another symptom of my horrible fate. Terrifying, devil eyes.

  Zelda grabbed Margot’s elbow and dragged her away from me. I stabbed my hands in my pockets and felt the redness of my eyes fade. I felt completely exhausted, strung-out, useless. I blinked down at Margorie’s photo and felt my knees give out beneath me.

  Just before I collapsed, Raphael’s hand found my elbow and held me upright. I yanked my head around, surprised to find him and the others still beside me. What kept them there, really?

  “We’ll have the whole summer without Margot and Zelda and the others,” Raphael reminded me. “It’ll be just the four of us. Just the way we need it.”

  Slowly, I nodded, although I felt like screaming. Raphael released my elbow and blinked at me, seemingly confused. I knew I acted strangely; I couldn’t kick it. I struggled to open my lips. I wanted to tell them that I needed space and time alone; that I wanted to return to my bedroom and stare at the wall. However, just as I prepared the words, I heard my name behind me.

  I turned swiftly to find Professor Binion. He stomped across the grounds, his eyes dark and serious.

  “Ivy. I need to speak with you in my office. Immediately,” he informed me.

  Anger permeated off of him. My shoulders slumped forward. Perhaps I would be struck down for my part in Margorie’s death. Perhaps I would finally get what I deserved. As I followed Professor Binion across the arboretum and back toward his office, the clouds smoldered overhead and yet more raindrops splattered across my cheeks. I felt many, many students’ eyes upon me, following my every move. I guess it stood to reason. Wherever I went, darkness and chaos followed. It was best to keep a distance.

  Chapter Seven

  When we reached Professor Binion’s office, my knees clacked together with fear. He sat across from me, in that familiar chair, and folded his hands beneath his chin. Moments later, I collapsed in the chair and gaped at him, prepared for some level of punishment. Perhaps it had been decided that I couldn’t remain at Origins Supernatural Academy after all, that it was too dangerous to put me anywhere. Maybe I would have to fend for life outside, on my own.

  In a sense, that would be a relief. It was what I had planned for after Aunt Maria and I’s house was burned down. I planned to head out on my own, without anyone to care for me—to put myself at the mercy of whatever awaited.

  But seconds later, Professor Binion’s face changed completely. He sighed and said, “I’m sorry I treated you like that down there. It’s such a wildly horrible time, and if any of the students imagine that I’m giving you some sort of special treatment, there’s no telling what sort of parental complaints we’ll get.”

  “So that means treating me like some sort of pariah?” I asked. Immediately, I regretted the words. After all, I knew, in my heart, that everything Professor Binion did, he did for me.

  He sighed. “I’m sure you must feel insane. The constant storms. The angry students around you. The fact that you might never know where your Aunt Maria is again.... It all must be endlessly saddening. Only a year ago, you were just a human student, on her way to another soccer practice.”

  The words seemed so foreign. For a long time, I gaped at him as my heart slowly thudded.

  Finally, I said, “Professor, you’re looking quite tired.”

  It was true. He looked absolutely weak. All the color had drained from his cheeks, and his fingers fumbled across the desk, showing how inarticulate and strange he felt. He looked as though he’d aged maybe ten years in the past two months, another thing to be guilty about. Still, if I could tell him to take a break for a few days, perhaps he could fight for his strength again.

  “It’s a necessary evil, I’m afraid,” he told me, heaving a sigh.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked.

  He shook his head delicately. “I’m afraid it’s been a great deal of research and study. Ancient texts, the kinds that I used to study back in your mother and Aunt Maria and I’s tribe. It’s a language that has long-since been forgotten by anyone who didn’t learn it when they were children. As such, I’m afraid any help you could offer could only come after you’d learned the language yourself.”

  “I see,” I returned. I frowned, my thoughts spinning. “What exactly are you researching about the texts?”

  He slid his hand across the back of his neck, again seemingly unable to articulate precisely what he wanted to without falling into intense exhaustion. Finally, he said, “I’m struggling to identify the full weight of what’s attacking the academy.”

  “I see. I assumed that it was all related to the tribe itself?”

  “Well, it seems that the magic is a bit different than what I would have assumed to come directly from the tribe,” he continued. “I believe that they’ve brought in outside help.”

  I arched my brow, confused. I was so generally new to this supernatural world, that I couldn’t fully comprehend what he meant.

  “You see, my tribe might have actually brought in outside enemies in order to defeat you,” he continued. “
That is the weight of their tremendous fear. These supernaturals from all these different factions want you erased.”

  “And they can see beyond their differences, due to their tremendous hatred of me,” I whispered.

  He allowed the words to fall between us, not bothering to lift them or analyze them or agree to their weight. Still, we both knew their truthfulness.

  “I discussed this with the headmaster,” Professor Binion continued. “It’s part of the reason we’re sending the rest of the students home. It will be much easier to fight this ancient magic without so many others around.”

  “So many others, at the mercy of those who want to kill me,” I murmured, remembering poor Margorie again. I glanced to the ground, my eyes filling with tears.

  “You cannot linger on what has come before,” Professor Binion affirmed.

  “It’s all I can do. I have to fight for what I’ve lost,” I whispered.

  “But you also must fight for what’s to gain in the supernatural realm, so that nothing more is lost,” Professor Binion insisted. “Please, don’t lose heart.”

  I swallowed and nodded, wanting to protest, yet knowing that he was correct.

  “I don’t know if I’m strong enough or capable enough to even begin to fight these powers,” I said suddenly. “I haven’t even been training for a year. As you said, a year ago I was headed to soccer practice. Now, I’m meant to take on several different factions of the supernatural community.”

  “You know you’ve gotten stronger over the past months,” he interjected. “Your mind is seasoned. You can project yourself far into the future and deep into the past; you’re already one of the most powerful students on this campus, bar none. You cannot second-guess yourself like this. It lends only room for fear and anger.”

  “But you can’t possibly think that I can tackle these mighty factions,” I said. “These people have put their many decades of magical prowess into the idea that I’m evil and must be destroyed.”

  What the hell would I do? How could I possibly handle this? All my practice on the soccer field, lifting up various items with my mind, was really nothing at all when compared to the ancient factions of the greater world.