Page 18 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

“As in, we live forever.” He noticed Ingrid’s complex expression, which was horrified and exalted all at once.

“But it sounds a lot cooler than it is. We aren’t invincible, not in the slightest. We’re stronger, bigger, faster, have better genes.

But we’re hardly indestructible.” He scanned Ingrid’s face again. “Do you need another break?”

“No, let’s keep going.” She was too full of questions, too terrified of the deadly things trying to capture or kill or possess her, and too overwhelmed to consider the desirous nature of what she’d just been told she was.

Immortal.

“Just keep talking,” she said. “Tell me about the Wranes.”

“Understood.” Dean rolled himself closer to Ingrid, speaking in a lower, velvety way not at all matching the grim details.

“Viators have hunted and enslaved Wranes for millennia. We are natural enemies because Viator are endless wells of energy, of life, while Wranes are parasitic, wretched creatures feeding off whatever they can. Meaning Viator are by far their favorite meal.”

Ingrid grimaced at that, unable to stop the memory of that long, bony finger scratching at the back of her neck.

“The Wrane we ran into today, though,” Dean said. “I don’t think it was hungry. It wouldn’t make sense to trap you like that, only to take you somewhere else. My guess is he’s bound to someone far more powerful.”

Something in his tone made Ingrid think he was holding back again. “You guess? Or, you know?”

“I’m guessing about that particular Wrane’s motives.

But I don’t need to guess who sent him here looking for world-walking Viator like us.

It’s the same man who sent whoever’s been stalking you.

His name is Makkar. King of Hydor. He is at war, and has been for years.

And now he’s scouring Earth for something, any power to help him finally win it. ”

You might be useful. Ingrid recalled the Wrane’s words like it was in the room with her. Her heartbeat quickened, palms sweating.

“Useful,” she whispered after a moment, as if she’d just come up for air. “The Wrane. It said I might be useful.”

“When?” All at once, Dean sounded alarmed. “What were you talking about?”

“It was after I said I could see the nightmares—or, I mean the Shades that followed me. It asked if I’d always been able to see them.”

Dean cleared his throat nervously. “And what did you say?”

“I said yes. I didn’t, uhh—should I not have?”

“It’s fine.” His face turned to stone. “What else did it say?”

Peering at the plain concrete ground, then urgently snapping her head back to Dean when she remembered the scene in its entirety, she said, “It seemed more interested in me. That’s all.

After that, it took me. Or, tried taking me.

And that’s when you…” A realization clicked into place.

“Are you saying because of that, because I’d always been able to see the nightmares, that’s why he was taking me to Makor? ”

“ Makkar. ” Dean corrected her instinctively.

Ingrid tightened her glare, over-annunciating the name in mockery. “May-Kaaar. You’re saying that Wrane was taking me to him because I could see the Shades?”

At that, Dean hung his head. “Yes,” he said somberly. “Otherwise, he would’ve killed you then and there.”

The games—they made sense now. It had wanted so badly to kill her. Wanted to destroy her. But it couldn’t. It wasn’t there freely. It was under someone else’s control.

Eyes widening, Dean said, “This was the reason Karis came to me before he died. He told me Makkar was sending his minions here in hordes, to hunt world-walkers like us.” He fumbled the next words, and Ingrid took the opportunity to cut in.

“World-walkers?”

“Viator that have lived on Earth. There are many of us here, and most of them don’t even know what they are, which makes them easy targets for Makkar and his minions.

Those of us who can see Shades, instead of just feel them or make out their shadowy residue, it means that we have more power than the average Viator. ”

“You keep saying power,” Ingrid said sharply. “Power. Power. Like I’m supposed to know what it means.”

Dean rubbed at his temples, again struggling with how to fully explain. He took a deep breath as he looked at the control panel in front of him. Next to one of the keyboards was a small, cloudy viseer stone, weathered by years and years of use. He grabbed it, shuffling it between his fingers.

“There’s a wide range of powers,” he said finally.

“But you… you happen to be a very, very rare breed of Viator.” He brought the stone close to his face, peering into it as if it might do the talking for him.

“I’ll put it like this. Karis would’ve loved to meet you before he died, because he’d thought for a long, long time that he was the last of his kind. ”

The words didn’t make sense. “But you’re his son,” Ingrid said. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t always work like that. In fact, I’m in the majority. It’s a special gift, what you have in you. A gift that isn’t passed down. A gift that most Viator would kill for.”

“Are you saying other Viator are jealous?” Ingrid said, surprised. Immortal sparked many images in her head, but the very human, very immature picture of envy wasn’t one of them.

“Yes,” Dean admitted coolly. “To be honest, even I’m jealous. But that’s not why I’m babbling like an idiot.”

“Hey, you said it, not me,” Ingrid smirked.

“And I’d say it again. I’m an idiot. I’m jealous of your gift.

And I wouldn’t be far off to say every other Viator would be jealous, too.

That’s one of the reasons there are so few gifted ones left.

Jealous people lash out, they fear what they can’t have or understand, and then they become violent, just like humans.

” Quick to add an addendum to his admission, he said, “Really, a gift like yours is so rare I’m more in awe of you than I am jealous. ”

They were flattering words, but the only effect they had was to leave the tangy taste of pessimism on Ingrid’s tongue. “If I’m so rare, then why didn’t that Wrane take me right away? Why did he toy with me? That’s what he was doing in that hallway—he was playing with me.”

“It was cloaked,” Dean said. “Hiding. That takes a lot of energy, a lot of power. It was probably too weak to see what you were. See what was in your eyes. Or, just too young or ignorant to have ever encountered someone like you. It could only feel the traces of Viator in you. That’s what it and the other Wranes have been trained to do. ”

Ingrid still wasn’t convinced. “It feels like a dream,” she said. “Like I’m still inside my nightmare.”

“I know.” Dean looked deep into her cynical, fiery red eyes.

“Think about it like this. Why would it ask if you’d always seen them?

The Shades? It could barely register you beyond your Viator blood, so it was gauging how powerful you were the old-fashioned way, by simply asking.

To see if you were born that way, or if you’d ever lived in Ealis.

Either one would mean you might be valuable to Makkar. ”

“What does living in Ealis have to do with it?” She growled, not in annoyance but exhaustion. It was beginning to feel like homework. The questions. The memory searching. Though, instead of simply failing a class, the penalty was death, or worse, become a slave to some tyrannical immortal king.

“All Viator are born with unnaturally long lives. But any special abilities are gifted to them by Ealis, the true source. If world-walkers have never been exposed to the source, they might never tap into their power. Might never discover their abilities.”

Ingrid sighed. “I can see why my father never told me any of this. I can’t imagine what a six-year-old would be like with this swimming in her head.”

Dean smiled austerely, nodding.

“But, one thing is still bothering me,” Ingrid went on.

With thoughts of her own father came more thoughts on what Dean had told her in the car about his.

About Karis. It had been with her since Dean had told her, nagging like a pulled muscle.

“You said Viator like me are sought after because of how rare they are, right? Meaning, they could be in danger just for being what they are?”

Dean nodded, “Yes.”

“Okay, so, if you didn’t inherit whatever it is Karis and I have, and inheriting it is rare, too, then why did Karis keep you in the dark? If he was already hunted, then why not tell you what he was? That he was your Dad?”

Her words touched a sore spot, causing his eyes to narrow.

“The best answer I can give is: I don’t know.

The less I knew, the less danger I’d be in, that must have been their thinking.

Or maybe they didn’t want me getting too attached to Karis.

Never mind what growing up thinking my dad abandoned me would do to me. ”

Ingrid hesitated at this. She could feel Dean’s pain, understood all too well how complicated old wounds like these could be.

But she couldn’t let him know that—not yet.

“Did you forget who you were talking to?” she asked with a scoff.

Dean’s mouth slightly parted, shocked into silence.

“By my math,” Ingrid went on. “You had both parents around for your childhood. And I had none. So don’t go crying to me.”

Dean smiled awkwardly, but it then turned into a genuine chuckle that lingered for a moment.

The two of them shared another glance before Dean said, “You’re taking this pretty well.”

“Or I’m doing a good job acting like I am.”

“Then, I guess, thank you for whichever one it is. Because fuck me if I don’t see a younger version of myself in you right now.

” Another complex reverie seemed to strike him.

“There were so many things that couldn’t be explained.

So many things that kept me up at night.

And nothing compared to that very first time I heard all this. But you...”

“What?”

Dean smiled wider. “You’re gonna roll your eyes but, I really am in awe of you.”