by Kristen Pham
Chapter 25
The city was in chaos for the rest of the day as the members of the Oracle prepared for Pythia’s funeral. Valerie and her friends would have left, but Sibyl asked them to stay, saying that it was what her mother would have wanted.
Guilt lay heavy on Valerie’s heart, and the tiny pocket of joy that she had found her brother only made her feel like a worse person. Her tongue was like lead, and she couldn’t bring herself to talk about what had happened, even with her friends. So they stayed in their tent most of the day, saying little to each other.
As the sun began to set, the flap on their tent was pushed aside, and Azra’s head poked inside. With a sob, Valerie rushed over and wrapped her arms around her neck, weeping into her mane. “It’s my fault. My prophecy killed her. I took too much from her, and I drove her away, like I eventually drive everyone in my life away.”
No, no, child, that is not true. It is like the room inside the Great Pyramid that crumbled behind you when you were launched into space. Pythia was waiting for you. If she hadn’t needed to deliver your prophecy, she would have died long ago.
“How do you know?” Valerie said tearfully.
I knew Pythia well. I know how hard she struggled to hold on to life when death was calling to her for her next adventure. You can’t take responsibility for nature taking its course. And though I will miss my friend, I am happy that she is at peace at last. And it was you who gave her that peace. The weight on her heart that Valerie thought would never lift seemed to ease slightly, and her breathing calmed. Say goodbye to her tonight, and when you do, let go of your guilt as well.
“How did you know to come here?” Cyrus asked.
I sensed all of her power released into the universe. Chern bent space and created a door for me so that I could be here tonight to say goodbye.
“Chern?” Kanti said with disbelief. “I didn’t even know he had a power.”
Yes, he can bend the laws of physics, and was kind enough to use his power to allow me to say goodbye to an old friend.
In the distance, Valerie heard the sound of bells that seemed to be moving closer. Come, it is time for the ceremony to begin.
They left the tent and saw Conjurors walking down the street in a long line. Most wore the long robes of the Oracle, but some, like Azra, were Conjurors from other cities who had sensed Pythia’s passing and had come for the funeral.
At the front of the procession, six Oracles, each wearing a different color robe, carried a platform that held Pythia’s body. Sibyl fluttered above her mother, her face now calm. She saw Azra and nodded to her. Azra returned the greeting, and Valerie saw tears standing in her eyes. The procession reached the pool, where light from torches flickered on the water. The Oracles placed the platform on the pool, and Azra moved closer, her hooves making no sound. Valerie and her friends followed.
Azra made her way through the crowd, and as she did, her words filled the minds of everyone who had gathered to say goodbye to Pythia.
Pythia was my oldest friend. She was by my side when we first imagined this world. Her sense of honor and capacity to love have been my inspiration, and I often think of her when I make difficult choices. She was a powerful, brave person who valued integrity above all.
She accomplished so much in her life. But the memory that is closest to my heart has nothing to do with her power as an Oracle. When we first came to this world, my husband died. I lost the love of my life, and also became the last of my kind, with no chance of ever having a child of my own. Pythia stayed with me for many years as I worked through my grief. She helped me to see that devoting my life to shaping the Globe would give me purpose and be my legacy when I die. Without her love and guidance, I don’t think I could have survived. I will carry the memory of her in my heart forever.
When Azra had finished, one of the Oracles who had held Pythia’s platform began to speak, telling a story about how Pythia had comforted her when she first came to the Roaming City as a novice. One after another, the Conjurors shared stories about Pythia, some profound, some funny, all showing what a loving and ethical person she was. It was many hours later when the last person shared her story. Then quiet fell over the group.
After a long pause, Sibyl spoke. “My mother was ready to leave. She had taught us all she knew about prophesying, and she left us with her code of honor to guide us in our future. We honor her memory by keeping that code alive.” Then she fluttered over to her mother and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Farewell, dear Mother.”
The crowd began to hum softly, and Valerie joined in. The platform holding Pythia began to rise higher and higher in the sky. When it reached the top of the pillars, it paused. The tears in Valerie’s eyes spilled over.
The twinkling stars seemed to welcome Pythia. She was leaving the Globe, but her journey wasn’t over. And then, Valerie let her go. The platform vanished.
To her surprise, Valerie was able to sleep that night. She woke up the next morning emotionally exhausted, but without the despair of the day before that had made her so hollow inside. She even let herself bask in the knowledge that after years of thinking she was completely on her own, now she had a brother.
Who was in trouble, she reminded herself, and her temporary contentment disappeared. She wanted to jump up right then and go rescue him, but she’d have to find him first. Her determination strengthened into resolve. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him—ever.
Then a second realization hit her, and her excitement grew. How had she not thought of it before? She gently shook Kanti awake. Her friend cracked one eye, grumpy.
“I’m sorry to wake you. But I have to know. Henry’s parents—my parents—what are they like?”
Kanti sat up and put a hand on Valerie’s shoulder. Hesitantly, her eyes full of worry, she said, “Val, Henry’s adopted.”
Valerie knew that had to be a possibility, but she was a little crushed. Her status as an orphan hadn’t changed after all. But she forced herself to shake off the thought. She had a brother, family, where yesterday she had none.
“It’s okay, I just had to know. Go back to sleep,” she said, and she left the tent before Kanti could say anything else. She refused to let her disappointment cloud the best revelation of her life.
Outside, Cyrus was watching the sunrise. She sat beside him.
“You said yesterday to Azra that you drive everyone away. But that’s not true. You never drove me away, and there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop being your friend. I thought you knew that.”
“But I did drive you away, by not believing in you. Even at the hospital, I thought you were imaginary and told you to leave me alone. It’s my fault that we weren’t friends for all those years.”
“I didn’t leave because of anything you did wrong. I left because I had to. There’s a Guild rule about when human children can no longer see their imaginary friends. Otherwise the child might be perceived as mentally unbalanced. Do you know how heartbreaking it was to leave you? You called for me all the time. I would have broken the rule and visited you anyway, but they threatened to take away the charm that protected you. Then I could never have visited you again.”
Valerie listened intently. Cyrus hadn’t abandoned her after all, like all of those foster parents who had promised that they would be there for her, but hadn’t stayed in her life. He had always been her friend, even though she hadn’t known he was there.
“I really missed you,” Valerie murmured.
“Me, too. That’s why I used to visit you in your dreams sometimes, and we’d go on adventures, like the old days.”
“Now I get why those dreams always seemed so real!”
A shadow flickered on the sand, and Valerie saw that Sibyl was approaching them with Azra by her side. She carried something in her arms. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said hesitantly.
“No, of course not,” Valerie said, and some of her guilt returned. “I-I’m so sorry for what happened.”
But Siby
l shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. It was her time to leave us. I brought you this.”
Sibyl unrolled a scroll that she was carrying. Written in beautiful calligraphy was the prophecy that Pythia had delivered to Valerie. The words were written in gold, and the edges of the scroll were decorated with pictures.
“Oh, Sibyl, thank you.”
“What will happen here, now that Pythia’s gone?” Kanti asked, stepping quietly out of the tent.
Sibyl sighed. “A new leader will be elected. I hoped for a period of mourning, but Putrefus is campaigning already.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Kanti snorted in disgust. Valerie shook her head.
“He is very gifted in prophesying. Maybe he would be the best leader. But everyone will have a chance to weigh in. We have many choices before us. I believe the days ahead will be very busy, between prophesying for our visitors and selecting a new leader.”
“Good luck,” Valerie said, and she reached out to squeeze Sibyl’s hand. But Sibyl pulled her into a hug, whispering, “You are not to blame. I am grateful to you.” Then she released her and said, “I have a feeling I will see you three again.”
“Well, you are an Oracle, so if you have that feeling, I’m guessing we’ll see you soon,” Cyrus quipped.
