Page 58 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

The ocean rippled and foamed with the movement of the gargantuan monster. Waves lapped against the ship as the neck stretched up, up, up, until the creature stared down directly at the three Viator standing at the front of the ship. If it wanted to, it could swallow half of the ship whole.

The fins on the side of the head fanned out, its giant lime green eyes going wide, so sentient, so aware, like it was scanning each individual aboard.

Sailors and deckhands behind them stirred, whispering to one another, while the undercover soldiers—Veston’s two underlings—did not bear arms just yet. They’d been ordered to stay their hands in case anyone was watching from afar and thought a merchant ship carrying that kind of weaponry odd.

Footsteps clattered. Plans were communicated. Fears were choked back. Then the serpent’s central head sank back into the cold dark water, its impossibly long body slithering away for what seemed like minutes before it fully disappeared.

It took another moment for the ship’s crew and passengers to fully calm.

And then a voice, rumbling and cold, cut through the silence.

Ingrid turned to see Dean planted at the top of the staircase leading to the main deck.

His face was twisted in a confusing mixture of anger and fear and embarrassment.

His eyes held that same tiredness he’d had in Maradenn, but in place of that distant stare was the unmistakable inertia of purpose. He had something to say.

“Did the princess ever mention how her husband’s ship went down?”

Sensing what this might lead to, Ingrid stepped in to answer first. “I’m sure if she knew, she would’ve told us.”

Dean looked to Veston. “What about you? Did she tell you?”

The general’s lips parted, but words didn’t form right away. “Not that I can… no. We never got news.”

“Nothing? She didn’t even have a guess?”

“Shipwrecked,” Tyla offered. “That’s all she said. Dean, don’t you remember?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes were half-closed, and darkening.

“Let’s go below deck,” Ingrid said, taking a few steps toward him. “It’s late. Why don’t we?—"

“I was wondering,” Dean cut her off, eyes now burning through Veston.

“Just today, I was wondering if Callinora ever mentioned how Enitha planned to stop all those Maradenn ships from traveling to Iberium? To put up a blockade like that, she’d have to have quite a naval force.

Or something else in her control.” He gestured to the sea, in the direction that the Hydra had just swam off in.

“Nonsense.” Veston walked toward the bowsprit, resting his hand on the railing and peering into the dark waters.

“Are you really suggesting Enitha bound a Hydra to her will? It’s ridiculous.

If Enitha had that kind of weapon, we’d have heard about it.

All the legions we’ve sent have been small.

Skilled, but small. They were defeated due to Enitha’s large numbers. ”

Tyla agreed with the general. “I imagine a Hydra, especially one of that size, would be a hard secret to keep.”

“Right,” Dean said curtly. “Thank you, Tyla. That brings me to my next point. If she were able to keep…” He pointed out to sea again. “ That a secret. Then Enitha would have to be very powerful, I imagine. Very persuasive of others’ minds, right? Like another Magus we know of?”

Veston stirred like a caged dog. “Not even Makkar can spellbind a Hydra! And now you’re suggesting the two of them might be in league together?! You’ve gone sea-mad!”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, let’s take stock, shall we?” Veston held up his hands, stretching out a finger one by one as he listed Dean’s peculiar behaviors. “You mope around all day on deck. You barely eat. Barely sleep. So it’s no mystery as to why you might be hallucinating!”

Dean took two loud steps forward, the wood creaking below.

“No… no!” He shook his head crazily. “Not that! I meant, how do you know Makkar can’t spellbind a Hydra!

? Have you asked him? Have you seen for yourself?

No? How about Enitha? Do you know how she was able to overthrow the Isles in the first place?

Do you know anything at all? Does Callinora?

Or has she withheld some things? You know, things that might’ve made us think twice about going on her little rescue mission? ”

His tone had turned to a simmering roar as he raised his hand and pointed accusingly at Veston. “Answer me!”

“I haven’t the patience for this.” Veston left the foredeck, sliding past Dean without looking at him.

“Was that necessary?” Tyla asked. “I know where you’re coming from, but don’t blow this all up just because you think things aren’t going as you’d planned.”

“The minute we left, I had a bad feeling.” Dean continued to pace.

“After all that discussion, all that strategy being bounced between the five of us, and we still ended up doing exactly what Callinora first asked us to do. When she still thought we might be spies, for fuck’s sake!

” He palmed his forehead. “I never should’ve let this happen. ”

“What can we do?” Ingrid asked softly. She took another step toward him, unflinching. “If you’re doubting this all now, then I’m listening. Talk to me, please… Dean?”

As if her voice pulled him from some spell, he instantly loosened his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said, darting his eyes to his boots. “I’m not doubting it, I know what we have to do. I trust Callinora. I do. I just—seeing that thing get so close to you. I immediately thought the worst. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not alone,” Tyla concurred. “Hundreds of scenarios played out in my head, and none of them were good.” She turned to Ingrid. “It might be wise to find some place for you, far from Enitha, when we get there.”

Ingrid waved her off. “This again? Absolutely not.”

“I already tried that,” Dean appeared to smile, but it vanished so quickly that Ingrid couldn’t trust her eyes enough to say for certain.

“In a perfect world, she’d have had a teacher.

Her magic would be second nature by now.

” He looked up to the sky as if he were picturing it.

“But this is the farthest thing from a perfect world. Which is why we need her with us in the first place.”

Ingrid shuddered at that. Out of everything, the importance of awakening her magic was the one she liked to think of least. Thrown into the fire, Tyla had said. And hope she didn’t get burned.

“Do you really think Makkar might’ve helped?” Ingrid asked. “That he helped Enitha take the throne in Occi?”

“It doesn’t seem like Makkar’s style,” Tyla said. “He has one goal. And he wants all the glory for himself. It doesn’t track.” A swell of confidence overcame her as she looked to Dean. “Not to mention, have you thought about what his little book tells him about sharing power with another Magus?”

Dean perked up a bit. “I have.”

“There you go,” Tyla said. “Let’s think of the positives for a moment.”

Dean nodded, looking to Ingrid. “A magus like him will always plot against others like him. No matter how powerful.”

“I did read something like that,” Ingrid said.

It was a passage from one of the first books she’d plucked from the shelves in her room.

Bonded Worlds, and the Embattled Wielders.

It was a slog, mostly pretentious abstractions littering the speculative re-telling of the first Great War, but it had been educational in one area.

It spoke of Magi and their cruel, competitive practices.

“He will try to take her power,” Ingrid threw in, then recited verbatim: “Ealis’ gifts can only touch so many.”

Dean’s eyes closed in a wince, as if he was drawing on something he hadn’t thought of in ages.

“A blessed Viator alone in their wielding can harness unimaginable power. The Mother spreading her love to many is rich in company and comfort. The Mother giving all her love to just one chosen child is blissful in preoccupation.”

“We could use this,” Ingrid exclaimed. “Right? Somehow, we could use this to drive a wedge between the two.” She gripped her head as if a migraine had suddenly struck her. “I mean, if they are close allies, she might not be so happy with the conditions of their agreement.”

Tyla balked, “Whether or not they’re chummy doesn’t matter.

What matters is that Enitha knelt to him, like everyone else.

We know that much. And I don’t think anyone needs to be informed of Makkar’s zeal.

Enitha knows the punchy bits of the old ways.

Every Viator in Ealis does. She must know that Makkar believes killing her would increase his power. ”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Dean said cryptically.

“Spit it out,” Tyla groaned.

“The other side would be…” Dean stilled, holding them in suspense.

“Enitha isn’t a Magus at all. She’s only a puppet.

Someone Makkar made to look powerful, using his own magic to destroy the court of Maradenn from afar.

He knew he couldn’t penetrate the walls of Maradenn.

He knew he couldn’t dispel the ideals of the descendants of Ido.

So he played the long game. Captured the prince, but made it look like he had nothing to do with it.

Threatened to cut off their trade routes to Iberium if they came for Arryn, but made it look like the work of a mad usurper. ”

“That’s fucking evil.” Tyla’s eyes broadened. “Evil, but brilliant.”

Dean scratched at the gruff on his chin. “Lacking evidence, though.”

“We made a good case just now,” Tyla conceded. “Something to keep in mind.”

“You mean along with the hundreds of other horrific things we have swimming in our heads?” Ingrid asked.

“Yes,” Dean’s mouth twisted in an ugly, but somehow still charming expression. “You don’t need to remind me how easy it is to overthink things.”

“You?” Ingrid’s eyes went wide. “Overthink?”

“Funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” Tyla said, crossing her arms.

“Of course you aren’t,” Dean jested. “The dashing General Veston isn’t here to entertain you anymore.”

“You little?—"

Just then, the crew began to sound off from the main deck. Sailors stomped, sails were redirected, the bow slightly tilted, and the captain called out directives.

The Occi Isles had been spotted by the sailor on aloft duty in the lookout nest above.

By the morning, they’d be docked, taking the merchant’s path to the royal trade gates, being searched before entrance, and, hopefully, they’d be sharing a room with an enemy.

How powerful that enemy was, and whether this enemy had close ties with an even more powerful enemy, those questions could not be answered now.

So, taking Tyla’s advice, Ingrid decided to focus on the positive.

“Care to watch the sunrise?” Her invitation was to both Tyla and Dean, but she kept her eyes on the latter. “I read there’s nothing like it out here.”

Dean grinned at her, but did not answer immediately.

“Oh come on,” Ingrid said. “Can’t we pretend for a second that we aren’t in mortal danger? It’s our last chance before?—”

“Before we are literally in mortal danger?” Dean cut in.

“Yes. So what do you say?”

“Absolutely not,” Tyla decided finally. “And if you two get even a glimpse of something moving down there.” She rose to her toes, peeking over the ship’s edge. “Don’t gawk. Don’t hypothesize. Just run.”

Ingrid saluted. “Will do. Mom.”