“The Magician again, huh?” Gabe says, walking up to the table and taking a long hard look at the cards.
I press my lips together and nod.
“Any visions for how you’re gonna find this person?”
The undulating blues in his eyes burn into mine. He knows what’s at stake as much as I do.
“Not a clue. At this point, I’ll take any suggestions,” I say, turning my gaze to the stained glass window with a tortured Christ hanging lifelessly from the cross.
The symbolism isn’t lost on me.
“What have you tried?” he asks, taking a seat beside me.
“Everything,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
Gabe cocks an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay—I’ve been watching the signs and waiting. I don’t know what else to do.”
Placing his elbow on the table, he rests his head in his left hand.
“Morgan, you and I both know when the timing is right, it’ll happen. I don’t know why you worry so much,” he says. The creases of his eyes soften empathetically.
Tears threaten beneath my eyelids, but I fight them back. There’s no time for emotions—not now.
“The dreams are getting worse, Gabe. You don’t understand.”
“Contractions,” he whispers, drawing me close.
“Excuse me?” I say, making a face.
“You’re having labor pains. The universe is giving you the signs, urging you forward—but it’s just not time yet.”
I blink back my surprise.
“Wow. That was—actually very astute,” I say. “I’d never thought of it like that.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, sliding me that sexy grin he does so well.
Maybe Gabe’s right. Maybe it’s just the universe getting me ready—but maybe it’s pushing me, too.
Either way, it’s time I find this oracle.
2
EVEN labor can be induced. Gabe’s insightful words have lingered with me for the past couple of days and I finally think I have the answer to my questions.
“Did you say you found a way to locate the oracle?” Gabe asks, walking into the loft from the stairs.
“We’ll find out. I figure, the only way to find an oracle is to hunt for the authentic ones first,” I say, shrugging.
Psychics are a dime a dozen—but the truly gifted—those are much harder to come by. If I can narrow down the list—even whittle it to a few hundred, I can work my way through them. My spidey-senses have been spot on up until now. I’ve given the others their missions—set their purpose into motion—so I have to trust I will be able to do the same now.
“Mmmkay,” he nods, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“What? You don’t sound convinced,” I say shooting him a look.
“Would you be?” he cocks an eyebrow.
I walk to the large chest at the end of the bed, opening it to peer inside. I grab a number of ingredients needed to cast a locating spell.
“No swift comeback. I’m guessing that’s a no, then,” he chuckles.
“Are you gonna shut up and help me? I could use your power,” I say, curling my upper lip in a mock-snarl.
He laughs again.
“Sure, let’s see what we can do.”
I grab hold of my overused, tattered map—the one my family has used for as long as I can remember. If it could withstand guiding us on all the various cross-country trips my father planned, it can help me with this.
Placing it down on the small table I use for tarot readings and other energy work, I strategically place the blue candles, along with the crystals and herbs needed. Jasmine incense fills the air, holding a heavy, perfumed weight that draws me out of my mind and into my spiritual self. Holding the pendulum in my right hand, Gabe stands behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders—offering his assistance.
Together, we bow our heads and I begin to chant the request to the Universe.
“As I set forth these intentions…I call upon the universal energies, and the guidance of the powers that be. Aid me in locating those with true gifts of clarity, sight, and vision. Reveal their locations so I may pinpoint their whereabouts and begin my search…”
After several repetitions, a handful of prospects emerge on the fraying paper. Many of which are very promising—and interestingly enough, all congregated within a cluster of each other. One of the closest is within a half a day’s drive from here.
“I’d like to start with this one,” I say, pointing to the glowing orb.
“Alright. Looks auspicious enough. It’s brighter than most of them, too.”
“True,” I nod. “Isn’t it interesting how close many of these are? I wonder if there’s some sort of vortex happening in this general area?”
I point, circling my fingertip around the main group.
Gabe nods. “Very possible. We’re all attracted to similar frequencies—areas that feel good to us. Maybe they’re all being called there for the upcoming fight.”
“Entirely possible. If I get us both packed quickly, how fast can you be ready to go?” I ask, walking to the closet and pulling out a large suitcase.
“Faster than you can, I imagine.”
I glance up just in time to catch his wink.
My lips slide into a grin and I shake my head. He’s probably right.
Within a couple of hours, we’re packed up and in the small Toyota Corolla I’ve used for years and years. Well before I met Gabe, that’s for sure. But it’s never done me wrong. In fact, it’s been more reliable than my intuition has been, as of late.
Gabe clutches the steering wheel, eyes locked on the horizon in front of him. He’s taken the first shift of driving, and I’ve promised to take the second. With any luck, we should be to the small town within the next six to seven hours.
We drive in silence for a while, both of us taking in the scenery and world around us.
“How long do you think it will be before the war?” I say, finally breaking the comfortable stillness.
Gabe takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales.
“I’m not sure. It’s coming though. I feel it in my core—like a different kind of circadian rhythm stirring me awake.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“I bet you do. I’m glad I can be here to share this with you. It must have been hard when you were the first.”
“It certainly wasn’t fun,” I say, shaking my head. “Luckily, it didn’t last long. We were all standing at the threshold—just waiting for the right moment to come out of our slumber.”
“Why do you think the final group is still isolated? Do you think it’s by choice? Or is it part of something bigger?”
“There are so many reasons it could be. I’ve played them all out in my head. Could be all the pieces aren’t aligned—like you’ve said. Free will may have put a wrench into things. Maybe one of them isn’t ready. I get the sense that when the first of the five go—the rest will immediately follow. I don’t know why…”
“Would be convenient if they do. I mean, can you imagine going through this same thing four more times after this?”
“Ugh,” I groan, sitting back in my seat.
“Exactly,” he nods.
For the most part, the drive is uneventful—essentially flat and open, with intermittent moments of scenery worthy of attention.
As we follow the Mississippi south, Arkansas is a much prettier state, though the small cities along the waterway have certainly been hit hard by the recent recessions.
“Are you ready to take over for a bit?” Gabe asks, turning his gaze briefly to me.
“Sure—we may as well—”
With a loud crack, then grinding noise, Gabe slams on the breaks and pulls off to the side. As we come to a stop, the Corolla groans loudly.
“What in the hell was that?” I say, kicking my car door open to have a look.
Gabe pops the hood as I inspect the rest of the vehicle.
“By the sound of it�
��I’m thinking it was the suspension. Everything looks fine under the hood from what I can see. When was the last time you had this thing serviced?”
I shrug, sheepishly. “I have no idea.”
“Well, we’re gonna need to have it looked at.”
Reaching for his cellphone, Gabe walks away, dialing for someone—hell if I know who.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. “This is so not the best time…”
A moment later, Gabe is back at my side. He slides his phone into his front jacket pocket and leans beside me.
“Good news is there’s a small auto shop just down the road. Bad news is their only tow truck is in use. They said it could be a few hours before they get to us.”
“You’re kidding?” I groan, sliding down the car door into a tight squat.
“Well, we could either wait here with the car, or walk down to the shop until they can send the tow truck out.”
“If you wanna go down to the shop, be my guest. But they’re smelly and always take way longer than they estimate. I’d rather wait here with our stuff, thanks.”
Gabe sighs, crouching down beside me.
“Fair enough.”
Nearly six hours later, the MIA tow truck has taken our car—parts have been ordered—and we have a rusty turn-of-the-century Buick with our name on it.
“Ugh—stupid car. I can’t believe of all the times—of all the freaking times—now is when it decides to crap out on me,” I plop down on the park bench outside the dinky small-town auto shop. The small crew was super nice, but it’s going to be days—maybe weeks—before my car is fixed.
“Hey, it happens,” Gabe shrugs. “Don’t panic. These guys said they can fix it, right? So, what if we have to hang out here for a couple of days? It’s sorta quaint.”
“You don’t get it. This urgency isn’t going away, Gabe. I feel like—I don’t know. I feel like if I don’t find this oracle—or find the final five soon, I’m going to go completely mental.”
“Maybe you already are?” he chuckles.
“Shut up,” I say, sticking my tongue out. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and cover my face.
Gabe sits down beside me, placing his hand on the place between my shoulder blades.
I take a deep breath, leaning into his warm, radiating energy.
Suddenly, the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard begins to flood my consciousness. The early tendrils of the song are akin to wind-chimes—but grow with an intensity and melody—forcing me to look up.
“Gabe, oh my god, it’s her—” I raise my hand, pointing to a young woman exiting a coffee shop from across the street. Hot pink strands of hair cover half her face as she walks away with purpose.
“What do you mean?” he says, eyebrows knit together as he follows my gaze.
The energy from the woman’s aura pulses off of her in waves unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.
“Can’t you sense her?”
Goosebumps flash up and down my forearms and back.
“Oh my god, Gabe—she’s the one I’m looking for.”
3
THE UNIVERSAL ENERGY has its sense of humor intact, I see.
I roll my eyes, leaning back on the park bench.
Stumbling on the oracle here—in this small podunk town—was the last thing I expected. The young woman looks no older than twenty-five, but the air of the ancients rolls off her in waves. It’s a powerful, heady mix that I could sit and soak in all day if she'd let me.
“What are you going to say?” Gabe asks, nudging me from my energy high.
Taking a cleansing breath, I shake my head.
“Not sure yet, but I'll think of something. First, I'll have to assess her level of awareness. She might not even grasp her own power, for all I know.”
“Do you think that's likely?”
“No, but something is off about her energy and I can’t place what it is.”
“How so?” he asks.
“Hmmm… It’s almost scattered—or maybe bound in some way? I'll learn what I can first and dig more into the why later, if I can.”
Gabe nods, “Do you want me to come with? Or stay here?”
“Why don’t you check on the rental and make sure it’ll actually drive. Might be less intimidating if this conversation is woman to woman. I’ll be okay. Head over to the small bed and breakfast up the road and I’ll meet you there in a bit. She’s on foot, so she can’t be going that far.”
I lean over, placing my lips against his briefly before popping up and dusting off my jeans.
His lips curve into a smile as his blue eyes blink dreamily. “Okay, my love,” he says.
I grin to myself, placing a hand on his cheek before walking away. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I throw him one final glance before turning the corner. He waves, staying seated on the bench for a moment longer.
I stay a ways behind the woman, following as closely as I dare as she meanders the streets—clearly in her own world. The trail of energy she leaves behind and its cascading colors are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She’s in a league of her own.
Along her route to wherever it is she’s heading, she stops, gazing in on the busy playground in the middle of the town. Children meander here and there—screams of joy and squeals of laughter intermingle together with the thumping of footsteps up ladders, steps, and plastic climbing walls. The creaking sounds of swings as they arc back and forth stay in rhythmic timing with my heartbeat.
Hanging back, I notice the way she takes them all in, soaking up their innocence like a sponge. She doesn’t linger long, turning soon on her heel with a bit more purpose than before. Glancing at her watch, she picks up her step. I have to half-jog just to keep up with her, so I don’t lose sight of her in the distance.
Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough—she turns a corner and as I round the bend, she’s nowhere in sight.
“Dammit,” I mutter, raising my hands to my head and combing my fingertips through my scalp.
Not even the colors or energy from her remains—almost as if she wiped it all clean as she vanished.
“Who the hell are you?”
Involuntarily, I jump at the voice from behind me and spin around.
The young woman stares me down, nostrils flaring, and jaw tight.
“I—uh—” stumbling for words, I take a step back.
Her energy has pulled back tight, closing in around her like a protective shield and nothing like the heady aura from before.
“Answer me,” she demands.
The bright pink strands from her bobbed hair blaze, just like the golden flecks hidden in her blue eyes.
“I—my name’s Morgan. I couldn’t help but notice—your energy.”
Snorting indignantly, the woman places a hand on her hip and practically strikes a pose.
“Are you trying to be funny?” she says. “Because you’re kinda miserable at it.”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Look lady, I don’t have all day. Either explain to me why you’ve been tailing me or be on your merry way. Either way will make me perfectly ecstatic,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
“Alright, this is gonna sound crazy,” I say, sensing if I’m not blunt, I’ll lose my chance.
“You’re speaking to the crazy choir, Morgan. I live in crazy. Get talking,” she says.
“I was searching for you. Well, not you exactly—just the idea of you, I guess.”
The woman quirks an eyebrow.
“An—anyway, I think you’re supposed to help me.”
“With what, exactly? Speaking in complete sentences?”
I look around the street. People begin to filter around us—each on their way to wherever it is they’re going.
“Do you have somewhere more private we could go?”
The woman’s face pulls in tight as she considers.
“Sure, but I don’t have a helluva lot of time, so you’re gonna need to haul some ass.”<
br />
She turns on her heel, making her way down the street. Her pace is quick, but direct as I struggle to keep up. A couple of blocks away, she turns up the steps of a quaint little cottage on the corner. Without the blinking neon sign with a spiral palmed hand and another flashing, “PSYCHIC,” I would have thought it was simply her house.
Well, guess that answers one question. She definitely knows she has a gift. I suppose it also explains why she thought I was being funny.
She opens the door, leaving it open wide for me to follow her inside. My sense are assaulted by the smells of incense as they mix together in a potent aroma only a metaphysical shop can produce.
“There you are, my dear,” a flamboyant, albeit well-groomed man says from behind the counter as we walk in. “And who is your lovely guest?”
“Morgan,” the woman says with a flat tone.
The man cocks an eyebrow and wanders out with a hand outstretched.
“Well, hello, Ms. Morgan. I’m Renaldo, Diana’s assistant,” he says with a faint flourish as he juts his chin out.
Diana. Okay, now I have a name.
“Hi Renaldo, nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand.
Other than his flamboyant personality, and obvious sexual preference, Renaldo is absolutely ordinary in every way.
He smiles awkwardly, glancing from me to Diana as he awaits a signal—or command from her, I suppose.
“So, what exactly do you think I can help you with in this less open space,” Diana says, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms and legs.
I eye Renaldo, narrowing my gaze as I return it to her.
“Anything you can say to me, you can say to Ren,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Fair enough. I was led to you and I think you’re meant to help me with my mission,” I begin.
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