"Take me to the U," James told the cabbie. He then grabbed his phone and began to perform an act that he found more distasteful than milking a vampire.
"Jonah, this is James. Do you have a minute?"
Jonah was happy to hear from his friend and gave James a good ribbing before allowing the man to make his request; it was soon understood, if not fully comprehended. James wasn’t happy to have to deal with the asinine antics of Jonah, but the man did know everyone at UW medicine and could facilitate his request.
Jonah was even kind enough to meet the cab when it arrived and personally directed James to the proper offices. James was too worried about Vera to decline the hospitality and allowed his friend to lead him to the correct lab.
"I noticed that you missed the last clinical appointment," Jonah said as they weaved through the hallways.
"Yeah, I've been busy," James replied sternly.
"Busy or not," Jonah said, "if you can't make the appointments you'll be out of the trial, and remember, you actually need this."
James kept his pace up but had to consider the meaning of his genetic trial. This particular trial was only once a month, but he had to wonder if he wanted to continue with it; he wondered if he needed to continue with it. Shaking his head, he decided he had more important matters. He needed to help Vera.
"What kind of venom is this?" the lab technician asked, staring at the tube curiously.
"I don’t know. I'm not a snake expert," James replied.
"The term is herpetologist," the technician replied with a snide tone.
Oh, great. One of these, thought James as he considered the man before him.
"Either way, I'm diagnosing a woman who may have been poisoned by this. I need to see if you can make an anti-venom."
"Well, how did you get the venom if you don't know what the snake is?" the man asked.
James was not about to play twenty questions.
"Look," he said. "Can you make an anti-venom or not?"
"Sure," the man replied casually, "but it might not do her any good. It'll take weeks to make the serum."
"She doesn’t have weeks," was the reply.
"Well, I don't know what I can do," the man said dispassionately. "In order to make the anti-venom, we need to build up anti-bodies in another animal, then extract blood, and then concentrate the dosage. That could take a month. You would be better off finding out what kind of snake it is and get the exact serum."
"The only serum in the area is rattlesnake, and I know it wasn’t that. I believe it will be best if we can make something from this."
"Well, I can try," the technician said without much hope. "In the meantime, you better hope this patient recovers on her own, or at least survives until we can do something. Hey," he said as an idea came to him, "why not try Woodland Park Zoo? It’s just down the street, and they carry a wider array of anti-venoms."
James realized that if this was true, he might have better luck than waiting for this imbecile. Even if he couldn’t get the serums himself, his connections could get them sent to one of his clients with a research lab, or maybe even a local hospital. From there, they would get into his hands. The lab technician gave him the name and number of the herpetologist at the park, and James left to make the call.
"I'll let you know how this guy does," Jonah said offhandedly. "And there's no need to worry. I can make these guys dance if I need to."
James didn't share Jonah's optimism but thanked him anyway before a thought struck him and he had to ask a question.
"I just realized that this must be funded or catalogued somehow. How is that technician going to justify his work?"
Jonah snorted and chuckled.
"Dude, I told you that I'm always right, and this place runs by my say so," Jonah said. "Don't worry, I'll get this done for you. Just remember you'll owe me a favor." James looked very skeptical and Jonah just laughed. "I keep telling you that I control the finances. We have so much grant money from the government and private sector that I can easily find a way to fit this in. Besides, I'm like a god when it comes to shuffling and justifying accounts. Sure, it all has to balance in the end, but that’s my job, and I do it very well."
James turned to leave but left his friend with one puzzling remark.
"I would be wary of calling yourself a god," he said. "I've actually met a few, and they might not take kindly to you counting yourself as their peer."
Chapter 16
Sleep came slowly to James, but it did come. He was exhausted, and even the awkward position of his living room chair offered some release from his tired state. The wide array of anti-venom had taken most of the day to acquire. This ended up being a blessing, as he had spent most of that time creating a patient, complete with corresponding paperwork to justify the expenditure. It was difficult, but solving problems is what he did, and he put his mind to solving this one. Luckily, he was able to find Vera's insurance card and used her ID for the transactions, and while he felt little remorse for her father, he did have respect for the man's medical plan; James had had no difficulty getting the insurance's approval, which facilitated the medical requests for exotic anti-venom.
Vera was now resting peacefully, although there was no indication that the anti-venom was helping. For all he could discern, she was recovering on her own. Arinai had provided some good news before she and Camulas left them in peace. She informed James that their patient had begun to stop thrashing around mid-day. This happy news was then subverted by the other startling observations. Vera had faded in and out of shadow, her skin had taken on an odd hue, and her hands had begun to deform. When James took a look at the hands upon his return, he could feel an odd bone growth. He had no idea what it was, but after going over research documents he came across something called dysplasia—yet another bizarre human condition that created the most usual physical appearances. James wondered about the enormity of human variances, and as he studied he become more accustomed to the oddities around him. They were not that far off from what was already scientifically documented.
Eventually, sleep overtook him, and he slumbered quietly in his chair as calming dreams entered his mind. A wonderful tune pulled him along, and he found himself dancing and singing as it played. It was Arinai that he dreamed of, and the two of them reveled in the song and merriment of dance. They moved across open fields, wide oceans, and finally up into a darkened sky on a warm and pleasant night. Each place brought happiness and visions of dancing sprites, humans, or faeries of some sort.
After several hours of peaceful sleep, James was stirred from his slumber by a continuous and persistent raucous. The noise was long in duration and chaotic in detail. Banging, grunting, slamming of doors, and rattling of metal assaulted his ears. James was too tired to be aroused immediately, and it took several minutes for him to regain consciousness. When he did, he could hear the noises coming from his kitchen.
Standing slowly, he shook his head clear and held out his hand to the chair arm in order to prevent himself from falling back down; he was mostly successful. The noise from the kitchen continued, and he made his way to the wall to turn on the light, only realizing as he did so that night had fallen again.
Vera looked up at him instantly and considered him for a moment. She was sitting on the floor with her back resting on the island, food spread out before her. She seemed normal in appearance. There was no discoloration of her skin or odd phasing in and out of darkness. When James blinked to see her other form, it was still there, translucent and violet within her human body. He let the vision fade and she once again appeared normal.
From the carnage on the floor, James could see that she had been eating for quite some time. Vera, done with her examination of him, turned back to the raw meat in her hand and tore off a large chunk; the strength of her jaw must have increased for her to perform that feat so easily.
James sat down against the opposite cabinets and stared at her. Her face was a mess, as was her hair. Other than that, she looked fine;
even her hands appeared normal. However, something seemed off, and it took a moment for him to place it. When he did, he could only stare. Her face had changed slightly. She appeared older to him, and he could only think that the traumatic events of the past few days had matured her.
"Vera, are you okay?" he asked.
She didn't acknowledge his question, continuing to eat heartily. He moved slowly to her and attempted to brush her hair back. She reacted by grabbing his hand and pinning it to the island wall. The movement was fast—faster than James could perceive.
"Leave me alone," she said sternly.
They stared at each other, and he could see hatred in her eyes. She was angry, confused, and in mourning. James was at a loss for what to do.
"You coward!" she said, ending their staring contest as she let him go and returned to her meat. James knew what she meant, although he didn't agree with her sentiment.
He stood slowly and watched her eat.
"I'm an analyst, not a fighter," he said. "I wasn’t afraid to help your family. I just didn't know how. My mind doesn’t work that way. All I could think about was trying to help you and protect you."
"You should have protected my sister," she said as she tore another piece of meat. She didn't even bother to look at him.
"I didn't know how," he replied weakly. He thought about adding more, but after considering the options, all he could do was ask a question.
"Is Badir still in your mind?" he asked. "Do you still sense him?"
"I hate him," she spat, "and he's laughing at me. Our minds cross paths, like catching the glimpse of someone you know in a crowd, and when he senses me, he laughs."
Vera grabbed several items from the floor. She took the meat, the potato chips, the bread, and other items. These were all gathered into her arms while she stood. She headed towards the bedroom making it obvious that she didn't want to be followed. Before entering the hallway, she paused without turning to face him.
"I hate you, too," she said quietly.
After disappearing from sight, James turned his gaze to the floor.
"You have every right to," he whispered, mentally torturing himself over the pain he was inflicting on her.
Chapter 17
Wind whipped the long tails of Camulas' coat as he stood on the street corner. It was still evening and the weather was inclement, and as the rain fell, he pulled up the collar of his coat to offer a modicum of protection. Surveying the scene before him, Camulas made mental notes. There were several creatures milling about just outside the range of human perception. Those demons who were close enough in appearance to human form avoided intense scrutiny and mingled with the passersby's and even each other. It was an odd truce, and Camulas couldn’t recall a time in their history when he had seen such a peculiar turn of events.
He closed his eyes and listened for the music he knew would be there. It took him a moment; he had habitually blocked it as he had learned to do. His mind finally found its soft harmonies and slow cadence. Careful not to fall into the lulled stupor the music enticed, he took the time to follow its lilting course. It reminded him of a gentle stream, flowing through a grassland valley. He could almost feel warm sun and hear water gurgling as it made its way around a stone that happened to cut a path through the water.
Snapping his eyes open, Camulas cast his gaze about. The other demons weren’t so well trained against Arinai, and the music had lulled them just as she intended it to. These beasts weren’t in a deep stupor or in any way harmed. Instead, they were calm and docile. Camulas could well believe that the peaceful music aided this uneasy truce, but he had no illusions regarding the situation. This truce was needed because these demons would not leave the site, and open battle would be counterproductive to their desires; they all knew something powerful was in the vicinity, they just didn't know what it was.
A crow landed on a light pole near Camulas, and its caw caught his attention. He turned at the sound and stared at the bird before him.
Oh, damn, he thought to himself.
His hand immediately warmed as his mind called out for the handle of his blade. His fingertips felt the ethereal hilt's presence; it was a comforting feeling.
Camulas refrained from moving, and for a moment he was unsure of what to do. He stared at the black bird before him, resisting the act of casting out his thoughts and feeling for its soul—if the beast were dangerous, he saw no reason to alert the thing to his presence by probing it.
Damn, he thought again as he considered the possibility that the bird might already know of his proximity. But he couldn’t be certain of that fact and managed to keep his emotions in check; he also stopped his hand from moving and drawing his weapon. The crow cawed again, and soon a second crow joined it, and then a third. Camulas wasn’t pleased. If the Oracle had somehow called these black beasts to him, then the situation might rapidly worsen.
For a moment, he pitied Vera. Death, pain, deceit, and much more is what these birds brought. If they were here, they might well be the harbinger of the young woman's demise. These blackened souls held a place of fear and respect amongst the ancient legends, and those attributes were rightly earned.
Taking a closer look while maintaining his distance, Camulas cursed under his breath as he realized the last bird that had perched was a raven rather than a crow. Keeping his eyes on target, he shook his head and gritted his teeth. Considering his options took only a moment before he decided on a tactical retreat.
Keeping his eyes on the birds before him, he began to move farther down the street, sidestepping as he did. The birds didn't notice his movement, or if they did they didn't seem to care. Taking his eyes off of the possible threat, he reacquainted himself with the other demons that shared the area. They hadn’t moved, and he was thankful for that. The thought had occurred to him that the raven and crows were creating a diversion, but his suspicion turned out to be unfounded. Each beast was right where he had left them.
The further thought occurred that he could easily kill these curious beasts, all except the birds. The mild stupor of the demons would make the murderous act simple. They would suspect nothing as he conjured his blade, whether it was a broadsword, dagger, or any other edged weapon he desired. He could call it forth as he passed each beast and a demon would fall, destroyed by the swift use of his weapon. However, Arinai would not be pleased, and he found that he still cared enough for her to value her opinion. Besides, her current plan of Wait and See, was working well. They had found the Oracle, he was growing in strength, and he appeared to be willing to accept his role. Camulas wasn’t certain he liked the man—James was too weak of spirit—but Camulas didn't hate him.
Camulas pulled a cell phone from a deep pocket and moved his fingers swiftly along the smooth surface. Soon, the other end began to ring, and he had to smirk when he heard the corresponding ring tone. It was an ancient Norse wedding song; he hadn’t heard it in a thousand years.
There was a discernible click on one end and the music stopped.
"Do you see them?"
There was no reply.
"On the southeast side of the street. Two crows and a raven perched on a pole."
"Damn," Arinai replied. "I had forgotten about that fact; for as much as Seattle has to offer, they also have an abundance of those black birds."
"Is she dead?" Camulas asked plainly. There was no reply, and Camulas asked his question again, in a louder more demanding tone.
"I saw Merlin kill her,” Arinai answered carefully. “She is dead."
Camulas could feel Arinai's hesitation. He had no doubt that Arinai had seen the Morrigan killed. However, he suspected that Arinai doubted whether the witch would remain that way.
"They may just be crows. Seattle is full of them," Arinai said.
“But not ravens,” Camulas replied.
Camulas knew Arinai might be correct, but he wanted to know for certain. If the raven presented a threat, he needed to know; these demons could be dangerous, no matter what tenuous truce w
as currently in effect.
"They may be regular birds,” he said to her when she remained quiet, “but let's find out.”
"Camulas, no!"
He heard Arinai call out the warning, but he was already cancelling the call. Picking his attack point, Camulas moved carefully and approached the birds from their blind side. He and Arinai may not be able to sense a possible demon within those black feathered bodies, but he believed he could flush one out.
The birds were well situated, but he chose his spot with tactical skill. His back was to a wall, and his exits were clear to him. He noticed the skyline, the wind, and the direction that the streets flowed. He also recalled this area in his mind. With the discovery of James as the suspected Oracle, this part of the city had been Camulas' most surveyed.
A quick flick of his mind in an attempt to feel for the demons' souls revealed nothing to him. Either these were just birds or they were too well shielded against him. One thought gave him hope, the other dread; any raven strong enough to shield herself from him was certain to be powerful.
He took a fighting stance and called for his blade. It would be invisible tonight—he didn't need the humans seeing it. It would also be light and slender for quickness of motion; he needed speed, not power. As his hand drew it from the realm that held it, the hum of its power permeated the opening between this world and another. It was a small opening but effective for the swords retrieval, and the hum wasn’t noticeable, at least not to most demons.
Two of the birds took to the air and sped off into the night. They were quickly lost, even to Camulas' keen eyes. The third one remained: the raven remained.
It didn't take flight, nor did it move. For a moment, neither did Camulas. When he decided to continue his course of action, the blade could be heard inching outward, the ethereal hum notching higher in pitch. The remaining bird turned its head sideways and brought the warrior into its visual range. A single eye stared at him, and Camulas could see his own reflection in the dark orb. When one side of the bird’s beak turned upward into a wicked smile, he knew it was a demoness. That smile wasn’t something any raven should be able to do.
Celtics Rising: Birth of an Oracle Page 15
