“Good grief,” Phoenix exhaled, astonished. “What’s that?”
“I think it’s what was flying over us,” I said. “Field, did you see them in the distance or anything?”
He shook his head. “Just as black dots. They must travel fast though, because they easily covered miles in the time that I got down to you and we hid. They also came from the direction of the eastern city that was marked on the map—perhaps they live there?”
“Maybe we should be grateful we didn’t get any closer,” Aida replied, her wide eyes fixed on the painting. “I’m pretty positive I never want to encounter one of them as long as I live.”
“Yeah,” Jovi agreed. “I’m glad they weren’t hunting us.”
“That’s the problem though,” I said. “If these are Azazel’s creatures, then this is what’s coming for us—for you, the Oracles. If they find out that you exist, I don’t think there will be any stopping them.”
My brother nodded, averting his eyes from the painting and looking at me with grave seriousness.
“So what’s the plan then?” he asked.
“The three of you,” I replied, looking at him, Aida and Vita, “need to rest. In the meantime, we’re going to get the answers we need—whether the Druid knows it or not.”
Jovi grinned at me, understanding my meaning. If the Druid wouldn’t speak to us directly, then we’d just have to indulge in some good old-fashioned eavesdropping.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
Field, Jovi and I crept back downstairs as quietly as we could. Using True Sight, I pointed the boys in the direction of another part of the house—an area we hadn’t previously explored, which led off from the dining room. We moved silently around the banquet table when we entered, this morning’s leftover breakfast things still laid out. We stood on one side of the doorway. I was closest, followed by Jovi and then Field. We stood in silence, Jovi’s arm pressed against mine.
The door had been left slightly ajar, opening onto another large room, mostly bare except for some furniture covered in off-white drapes. It faced out onto the front of the house, the sunshine only slightly shaded by a porch that must have covered the length of the building.
At the far end, the Druid and Bijarki stood in the light. The Druid leaned against a fireplace—unlit for once—his face turned up toward the sun. I could see that he was displeased about something though, his brow set in a deep frown as he listened to his friend.
“We couldn’t get any closer,” Bijarki was saying. “His ranks are growing though. Hordes of incubi are already swearing fealty to him…my father included.” Bijarki clenched his fist, his jaw jumping. “Two of them saw us and we were chased…saw us too easily.”
“You think we were betrayed?” the Druid asked, displeasure coloring his tone.
Bijarki nodded.
“They seemed to be on the lookout for intruders. That may have been a coincidence, but they shouldn’t have been able to see us—not from where we stood.”
The Druid turned away at this, and I became frustrated that I couldn’t see his expression clearly. They both fell silent, and Bijarki started to pace the room. I jerked back, thinking that he might be coming our way, but before he reached the door he turned on his heel and paced back again. He was dressed in thick, gray cotton-like trousers, tucked into boots and a dark shirt. The clothes were simply made, and I wondered if they were some kind of uniform—they looked so utilitarian, and also completely impractical for this kind of weather. Perhaps incubi didn’t feel heat the same way we did. He certainly didn’t appear to be bothered by it.
“That’s not good news,” the Druid replied at length. “But perhaps it is to be expected. My father never could find out how far Azazel’s influence spread—too many are afraid of speaking out now. He’s done his job well.”
“And what do we do now?” Bijarki asked. “Losing Kristos is devastating, but also problematic—we’ll likely no longer have the support of his family, and lose further sway as a result.”
“We wait. The Oracles are no good to us without fully developed powers. Even then, without the jinni and witch mix, I’m not sure how powerful they’re going to be—what limitations they might show in their abilities.”
“But surely their gift coming from the daughter of an Ancient must mean something?” Bijarki asked in surprise.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Well, how long? How long do you think it will take for their powers to come to fruition?” Bijarki asked again, his impatience showing.
The Druid turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Bijarki muttered. “I’m worried. The Oracle is our only hope…to hear that they might not even have the powers…” He trailed off, sighing deeply.
“The sooner they actually believe me, the better,” the Druid replied in agitation. “At least they now might stop trying to leave the grounds—that’s one small victory. And I will help them bring the visions into being, when the time is right—”
The incubus looked as if he was about to interrupt, but the Druid held up his hand to stop him.
“It will be as soon as possible,” he snapped. “Don’t you think I understand the urgency? If it is a fact that all the incubi have turned to Azazel, then it will soon be over—and our chance will be lost.”
Bijarki murmured something that I couldn’t quite catch, but I was still reeling from what the Druid had said. I glanced back at Jovi and Field. They both looked furious. Clearly, we were fast becoming part of something that was far bigger than just our own safety—and by the sounds of it, we were in way over our heads.
I snapped my head back as footsteps moved our way. It was Bijarki, heading for the door. We all moved backward, disappearing behind the other door in the dining room. Before we were out of earshot, the Druid called out to his friend.
“By the way, Bijarki… careful how you treat the female contingent of the Oracle. Do not on any account set to charming them. That goes for Serena too.”
“You know I can’t help it,” the incubus replied, barking with laughter.
We ran back up the staircase as silently as we could. We needed to find the others and tell them exactly what was going on—and less urgent, but just as important, given the strange attention he’d shown Vita in particular, I needed to warn her to stay away from the incubus.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
We woke everyone, and we all gathered in the map room. I told them, almost word for word, what had transpired between the Druid and Bijarki. After I’d finished, a shocked silence descended as my brother and friends digested the information. Jovi had started pulling out maps again—I guessed he was newly determined to find a way out of here somehow, but there was nothing in the universe that could persuade me to set foot outside the boundaries of the house.
“So we’re just pawns, then?” my brother asked angrily. “He’s taken us here to help win some stupid war?”
“Do you think he wants power over Azazel?” Aida asked. “It would explain why he wanted the Nevertide Oracle so badly. He probably tried to kidnap the other one the same way he did us.”
It certainly seemed that the Druid’s intentions weren’t quite as pure as he’d first made out. It would explain why he’d brought them here at least. If he truly wanted to protect them, he would have spoken to someone in The Shade—my great-grandpa Derek, Benjamin, or my father. Told them to protect the Oracle, and to expect Azazel to come hunting. Unless he thought Azazel was too powerful even for GASP to deal with. But I couldn’t really imagine that…he seemed to be some kind of demon, another supernatural like all the others they’d faced. If he knew of GASP, then he must have known of our history—the multitude of dangers the Novaks had fought and overcome.
“We don’t know that,” I replied to Aida. “We’re jumping to conclusions. I admit this doesn’t look good, but right now, what’s our alternative? Go back out there?” I pointed t
o the window. Dusk was already falling.
“No,” Field replied. “We’re not going out there again—I mean it, Jovi,” he added, seeing the werewolf about to interject. “We need to come up with another plan—one that doesn’t see us going on a suicide mission. It might mean we need to wait for a few days, but by the sounds of it, we have time. If the Druid wants to help develop your powers, then let’s let him help. If you guys can see the future, then we can use that to our advantage.”
“That’s a good idea,” I replied. “In the meantime, I can help try to uncover his true motives. He can feel me when I try to syphon off him during the day… but he might not be so quick to react while he’s sleeping.”
“You’re going to try to mind-meld with him?” my brother asked.
I nodded. “It might work. If he’s sleeping, he could unwittingly pass on information. It’s worth a try.”
“I don’t know, Serena,” he replied, looking doubtful. “He’s dangerous. We still know next to nothing about his abilities…it’s a risky move.”
“One I’m willing to take,” I argued.
Phoenix and I glared at one another, neither of us willing to back down, and Phoenix once again playing the part of over-protective brother.
“Let me do it,” he insisted.
“Oh, come on,” I argued, “you know I’m better at it than you are—and much more subtle.”
Aida tried to cover up a snort of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she beseeched my brother, “but it’s true—when you syphon it’s like being hit by a sledgehammer.”
Phoenix glared at her, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Fine,” he bit out. “But you need to be careful. When are you going to do it?”
“Tonight,” I replied.
“Someone should go with you.”
I shook my head. “I’m doing it alone. It won’t take long—and honestly, I really don’t believe he means to harm me. He rescued me from those shape-shifter creatures. He didn’t need to do that. I’m not an Oracle—I’m nothing to him. But he still did it.”
“All right,” Field replied, silencing my brother with a stern look. “It’s worth a try. Just be careful, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. I don’t want him to know that we’re suspicious of him, or at least any more suspicious than usual.”
Plan decided, we all headed our separate ways to get some rest. None of us felt like going downstairs to eat anything—it was too hot, and I didn’t think any of us particularly liked the idea of dining with the Druid and his strange friend.
Vita, Aida and I agreed to share the room again. There were some other bedrooms, but it was better to stick together—especially if Aida or Vita succumbed to any visions in the night. I didn’t want either of them going through that alone.
“I hate it here,” sighed Aida, leaning her head back against the pillows. “I feel like I’m stuck in a Victorian oven. I hope our families are already hunting for us.”
“Of course they are,” Vita replied. “They’ll have the entire fae armies out looking for us too, if Nuriya has anything to do with it!”
“I just wish we understood how far away we were from the fae stars.” I sighed, looking up into the sky. “It would at least help us understand how likely they are to find us. I mean if we’re deep, deep in the In-Between…” I trailed off, realizing that my speculations weren’t that helpful.
“It won’t matter,” Vita insisted. “They’ll find us.”
I nodded, looking back out of the window. This was the second night we’d spent here, and our first full day. How many more would be spent here? It made me feel claustrophobic just thinking about it. My mind returned to the diary I’d found. From what I’d read, it had sounded like the writer had been stuck here too, thinking they were going crazy with the repetition of the days and the food…was that what lay in store for us? She’d mentioned an ‘Almus’ and I wondered if that was the same Druid, or someone else —he hadn’t even told us his name. He’d been good at keeping us in the dark. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case much longer.
“Are you going to sleep, Serena?” Aida asked.
“No,” I replied. “I’m going to wait up… wait for the right moment.”
Aida nodded, shifting on the bed to get comfortable.
“Wake us if you need to,” she replied sleepily.
I went to the bathroom to get a glass of water, and when I returned, they had both dozed off.
I dimmed the wick on the lamp, throwing the room into a soft glow. Knowing that I probably had a while to wait, I decided that I could preoccupy myself with the diary—I didn’t have so many moral issues with reading it now. I felt we were all desperate enough for answers that we should try getting them, whatever it took.
Taking the lamp with me, I made my way along the corridor. I didn’t hear any noises from Phoenix’s or Jovi’s rooms and figured that Field had probably found somewhere outside to sleep again. Pushing the door to the room open, I made my way back to the vanity table, opened up the drawer, and removed the journal. Placing the lamp down, I sat on the edge of the musty bed and flicked through it, picking up where I’d left off.
This evening Almus explained the nature of his ‘black arts,’ as he calls it. The power of the Druids is strange to me. They are naturally much weaker than the kind I have been born to, but the way they have mastered their skills! It amazes me what he can do—he and his son, who shows so much promise. I worry about him growing up here…a lonely life awaits him. I just pray that we all remain safe. Perhaps one day this will all end—Azazel will fall, and this land will return to what it once was. Then maybe that quiet, serious little boy can experience more of what life has to offer. But it’s not what I see…It’s not what I see at all.
Almus gifted me an orchid. Its petals are a bright purple, its stem elegant and fragile. He told me he had been growing it in the greenhouse—that it reminded him of me.
I shut the book, feeling guilty again as the content became more personal. It did clear up a few things though—namely that Almus was likely the Druid’s father. The small child must be him…but then that would make the Druid over two hundred years old. That was old.
The mention of the ‘black arts’ didn’t sound too promising either. What kind of magic was that? It sounded dangerous—nothing pure or natural like the magic I understood from the jinn and witches of The Shade. But she (and I was now convinced the writer was female) mentioned their magic wasn’t naturally that strong, which was better news—though I didn’t know what she was comparing it to. I wondered if the writer was an Oracle… I got the impression she had been placed in the house for her own safekeeping, and the ominous mentions of what she saw, or didn’t see, made me think that she was referring to her own visions.
I put the diary back in the drawer. I would need to show it to the others, but maybe not yet. I was starting to feel a vague sense of connection to whoever had written it, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just because we were both locked up in this house, but I felt like I’d almost been meant to discover it—like the book had been lying in wait for me.
Shaking the feeling off, I rose to leave the room. It was late, and I needed to find the Druid. Using True Sight, I searched the house, starting near the room that always had the fire blazing and then tracking along to the door at the end of the small hallway. He was there, asleep by the looks of it. Perfect.
I hurried down the stairs, taking the lamp with me, making sure I kept an eye out for Bijarki. I hadn’t actually seen him when I’d scanned the house, which unnerved me—I didn’t want him creeping up on me.
Placing the lamp down in the small corridor, I waited by the door of the Druid’s room, checking that I couldn’t hear any sounds coming from within. When I was satisfied, I pushed it open and silently slipped in.
There was a fire in his bedroom, only just dying down with its embers glowing. My eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, and I could make out the sleeping figure of the Druid in bed. I watched him for a moment, noticing how
different his face looked in sleep, how much younger it appeared. The blankets on the bed lay twisted and rumpled, only covering his lower half and exposing his bare, muscled chest. I recalled flying into him when I was running through the swamp—no wonder he’d felt so solid, he was insanely well-built. Unable to stop myself, my eyes ran along the narrow trail of dark hair on his abdomen, its end, thankfully, covered by the sheet.
I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising.
Focus.
I shifted on my feet, sending out the trails of my mental energy to try to latch onto his. My mind brushed against his temples softly, finding a way in.
Abruptly, the Druid shot up in bed, the surprise sending me jumping backward, my heart racing. He had yanked a huge hunting knife from beneath his pillow and he held it aloft, his muscles tensed and ready to attack.
He lowered it slowly as he realized who it was.
“You shouldn’t watch men sleep,” he chided me in a gruff voice.
“I’m sorry.” I gulped. “I just wanted to thank you for saving my life.”
“No, you didn’t—you came to syphon off me.”
Being caught out in the lie made me blush all the more, and I cursed myself for wasting precious moments staring at him when I could have done the job much faster and perhaps not been caught.
“Okay,” I replied, trying to match his even tone. “Maybe I did. But it’s because you’re still not talking to us. You’re not giving us the answers we need.”
“It’s because I don’t know a lot of them,” he replied acerbically.
“You know more than you’re telling us,” I insisted.
The Druid sighed, running his hands down his face in frustration. When he didn’t reply, my own frustration grew.
“Listen,” I snapped. “Our families will find us. We’ll get out of here one way or another, and you’ll have to answer to GASP. Maybe you don’t think that means much, maybe you think because you’re so far away it doesn’t count for anything, but trust me when I say they’ve brought down more powerful creatures than you—including the Ancients themselves—and they won’t stop until we’re safe at home.”
A Gift of Three Page 16
