Page 22 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)
Ingrid shook her head emphatically. “No. It didn’t know.
It couldn’t. Tell them Dean.” She turned, searching his face for the same nonchalance he’d had the night before, when talking about how the cloaking had affected the Wrane’s ability to see her fully.
But Dean only rested his hands on the table, shoulders slumping.
“I can’t be totally sure of that,” he said.
“But the games it played?” Ingrid repeated. “That thing was toying with me. Idling. If it knew I was… whatever the fuck I am. Then he would’ve been more cautious, right?”
With every silent moment, her assuredness faded.
“It’s not a definite,” Tyla went on. “Hence, the decisions to be made. We don’t know for sure, though we do have reasons to believe it found out. After.”
“After what?” Ingrid asked. “After Dean scared it off?”
“That’s where my uncertainty lies,” Dean threw in. “I’m not so sure it was me. The viseer stone worked, sure. But you might’ve helped. You might’ve channeled a fraction of your power. Accidentally, of course.”
Ingrid nearly vibrated with irritation at that. Dean had said her power would need a significant amount of time to surface, to be trained. So how could she use it without even knowing she had it?
And worse, there was a lack of information about her abilities in general.
What power, exactly? What magic? If it was so rare, so valuable, then why hadn’t Dean at least tried to tell her more about it?
Give her a chance to explore it within herself.
To learn. To grow. Teacher or not, she could find a way to tune in to it.
“Just give me something,” Ingrid said. “Anything? What am I?”
“Oracle,” Raidinn said anticlimactically. “Succubus. Witch. Siren. Sorceress. Prophet. Whatever you want to call yourself, love.”
Tyla started to explain, “There are?—”
But Ingrid cut her off. “Many names for it,” she said, deflated. “Yeah, I’m picking up on that theme.”
“And there are many legends about what your kind can do,” Tyla added. “Many legends that Karis never denied or accepted, that crotchety old prick. Dean informed us that you can tap into what others are feeling, see glimmers of others’ memories. But other than that?—”
Now it was Dean interrupting. “Every fairytale, every legend, every myth, they draw from the unseen world, from Ealis. Over the millennia, thousands of cultures have told their own versions of the stories. And everything has become jumbled.” He shook his head.
“I know you want straight answers, some kind of handbook, but it doesn’t exist. That’s why I refuse to guess. ”
Ingrid released a mumbling laugh under her breath, then looked up at Dean. “Witch. You called me a witch, when we talked about my vision.”
“Well, no. Hate to be nit-picky,” Dean grimaced. “But you were the one who said witch .”
“And that excuses your lies?”
“No, that’s not at all what I’m saying.” He couldn’t hide his amusement at Ingrid’s sass.
“I probably should’ve told you. Honestly, I nearly did then.
But I didn’t have any details about what you can do.
I still don’t. The only thing we can go off was what we saw from Karis.
And as you’ve probably gathered, he wasn’t very talkative or showy with his magic.
He’d been taught to keep his power hidden.
To never speak of it. We’ll just have to learn about the extent of your powers as you do. As they reveal themselves.”
That same hint of suppressed resentment was in Dean’s voice. He couldn’t bring himself to speak ill of Karis, yet at the same time, he’d grown angry at his father for the mysteries he left behind.
Ingrid could relate.
“Now,” Raidinn snarled. “Can we get back to it?”
“Give her a minute,” Dean said.
Ingrid sat upright. “I’m fine,” she declared. “Thank you for telling me. Now I… I at least know what to call myself. Sort of.”
Witch. Sorceress. Succubus. Oracle. All of these mythical labels conjured ideas and images in her head, but after all she’d learned of Ealis and the existence of Immortals, she doubted those preconceived notions were anything like reality. She’d just have to keep moving forward.
“Tell me what to do,” Ingrid said flatly. “What’s next?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Tyla said, and placed her hand ever so gently on Ingrid’s back.
She was surprised to feel comfort in the caress.
“Good,” Raidinn said bluntly. “Because we haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet.” He was still so unemotional, boorish almost. Traits that were unpleasant at the dinner table, Ingrid thought, but likely made for a great soldier. Someone she was happy to have on her side.
“We told you we had reasons to believe Makkar knows of you,” Dean said gingerly, grabbing the back of the chair next to Ingrid’s. “We found out that he sent someone here. Someone who shouldn’t be here.”
“He’s the top general of his army,” Raidinn said. “Not just someone .”
Ingrid turned to Raidinn, facing the enormous man to prove not only to herself but to the rest of them that she wasn’t afraid. “This general is dangerous, then?”
“You could say that,” Dean answered with a much brighter disposition. “He’s probably the most powerful Viator in Ealis next to Makkar. But he can be defeated. I think.”
Raidinn cut in again, shaking his head. “The Bastard Prince, right here in San Bruno. Unbelievable, really.” He broke from his muttering to stare down Ingrid.
“What Dean is trying to say is, this asshole is the kind of evil Makkar would only send when something like you pops up on his radar . Something far too precious to trust with Wranes or grunts. ”
Tyla balked at the world. “ Powerless Viator ,” she kindly corrected her brother, then turned to Ingrid to explain further. “Most of Ealis’ general population is made up of people without any gifts. Grunt is a slur we don’t use in polite society. It’s vulgar. And frankly, very hypocritical.”
“We may not have any tricks yet,” Raidinn pompously argued. “But we don’t know for sure we’re powerless.”
Tyla scoffed, cursing under her breath, “Here we go again.”
“What?” Raidinn begged. “We don’t know!”
“Doesn’t mean we need to sit around and guess like children before Christmas.”
Raidinn sucked his teeth. “You’re no fun! Seriously sis!” He scoffed, flashing a wry, boyish smile. “I can’t wait to see your sorry face once I’ve realized my full potential. Once I’ve bathed in the rivers of our ancestors! Eaten the fruits of our homeland!”
“I wish you could hear yourself sometimes.”
“And I wish you could see yourself sometimes. All those late nights are no excuse to give up on basic hygiene.”
They continued bickering like only siblings could. Harsh, but with obvious shared history and private jokes. What each of them pictured for themselves, if ever they could return to Ealis permanently, to their true home, they’d obviously been talking about it for years.
“Now who’s wasting time?” Dean finally interjected.
“Hey, she started it.” Raidinn held his hands up, looking to his sister.
Tyla didn’t take the bait. “Apologies.”
“It’s fine.” Ingrid was all too happy to talk about someone other than herself for a minute. “So, what I’m gathering is, we need to find this general before he finds us?”
“That was the argument I was making,” Tyla replied.
“We don’t know with absolute certainty that Prince Sylan is after you, but the smart thing to do is find him while he’s busy with whatever mission Makkar has sent him on.
To assume you’re in danger and take offensive steps to protect you.
If we can catch him off guard, we have enough weaponry here to take him on together. ”
Dean shook his head, crossing his arms in thought.
The point he’d been making was now becoming clear.
“Until we know Sylan’s mission here,” he said.
“I think we have to avoid him at all costs. He wouldn’t be here for just any Viator, I agree with you two on that.
But we need concrete facts. Right here, right now.
Before we do anything else, we need to know how unprepared Sylan might be. ”
Raidinn snapped to attention at that. He glanced down at Dean like a hungry dog, and once he’d gotten the answer he was looking for—a nodding confirmation from his friend—he let out a booming cheer that echoed off the barren walls.
“Took you long enough!” the brutish male shouted. “Let’s do it, mate. Let’s rattle this bony fuck!”
“Do what now?” Ingrid asked, not hiding her unease.
“Interview the prisoner,” Dean said, flashing a loaded grin at her. “While you were sleeping, the twins here… they caught a Wrane.”