Dragon Oracle Urban Fantasy Boxed Set (Dragon Oracle Complete Series: Books 1 - 9)

by Jada Fisher

  Then it hit me. He was insinuating that they had turned over every stone, looked in every cranny, so the mole could only be something or someone new. And while there was probably a maid or a refugee from the city that had probably joined the manor in just the last couple of days, that wasn’t what he meant.

  No, not at all.

  “Sokhanya would never help—”

  “You say she’s been abused, yes, your Majesty? We should not be so naïve as to think that they weren’t able to brainwash her or compel her to do things that she wouldn’t want to do, even if she did kill their prince.”

  I burned in anger in so many ways, and I heard Mickey click her teeth behind me. First, the being spoken over and around was not my thing and it was something the general and I had fought over before. It was clear that he still considered me a thing, property of his prince, and not a living, breathing equal. It made me want to reach out and throttle him and show him that I was just as real as him or anybody else.

  But I also burned for Sokhanya. The tortured woman in a hospital bed, who was older than me but had never had the opportunity to grow or flourish. Who was small, weak, covered in rashes, bruises, and scars. She knew only pain, misery, and violence, but the dragons in front of me wanted to add disrespected right on top of the heaping bad pile.

  “Sokhanya helped save my life,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “And you implying that—”

  “Your Majesty, I—”

  “Why do you keep doing that?” Bronn asked levelly, turning so that he was fully looking at the general, who seemed to be quite surprised by the interruption.

  “Doing what, Your Majesty?”

  “Cutting off Davie before she’s finished speaking. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you how rude that is.”

  “Of course not, sire. I—”

  “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? When someone thinks so low of you that they just talk right over you like you aren’t even there.”

  “Yes, I—”

  “So we won’t be doing that anymore, will we? Everyone in this manor, within our people, will show the proper respect to the woman who has saved our hides more times than I can count.”

  “…yes, Your Majesty.”

  Bronn turned again to face me, expression completely diplomatic, but I was caught up somewhere between wanting to hug him and wanting to giggle. The look on the chastised general’s face was far too delicious, but also being stood up for like that… Well, it was nice.

  “Good. Now, before we go casting stones and pointing fingers, why don’t we go and speak to Sokhanya. She’s an oracle, so she might be able to tell us something we don’t know. Maybe she’s seen the other side of the vision that you two weren’t able to divine, or maybe she’s just familiar with the anti-humanist’s ways.”

  The two generals looked uncomfortable, so of course I looped my arm through Bronn’s and gave him a beaming smile. “You know, that sounds like a good idea. Let’s do that.”

  If the pair thought anything of me defiling the prince with my touch, or my over-familiarity, they didn’t say anything, but that was probably because they could only stand one lecture from their royal at a time.

  It didn’t take long to get to Sokhanya’s room, and for once, she was awake. She was sitting up partially, propped up by a veritable mountain of pillows, and Krisjian was reading to her out of his favorite book that he had learned in English. I didn’t think he quite understood the whole deaf thing, but Sokhanya was watching him with rapt attention.

  Her dark eyes immediately darted to us on entry, narrowing ever-so-slightly. She knew something was up, I could tell, but I quickly came around her side of the bed to show her she wasn’t in for some sort of backstabbing.

  Carefully, I took her notebook from the nightstand and opened it up, grabbing a pen to jot things down. I had to keep my language simple, given she was still working on her reading, but after a few minutes, she was dutifully bent over what I had written.

  “Wait, let me read that,” one of the generals said, stepping forward. Bronn stilled him with an extended arm.

  “You can wait until Sokhanya has finished. Although I’m glad to see you so eager to be a part of the conversation.”

  His reprimand couldn’t be clearer, and Mickey and I shared a knowing exchange. Secretly, I was living for the whole dynamic. I didn’t think that Bronn knew how much I was enjoying his subtle but firm shutdowns of their ignorance, but I most definitely was.

  But all those fun, and maybe a slightly petty, feelings evaporated in a flash when Sokhanya jerked suddenly.

  “Oh, hey, wha—”

  I didn’t get the full phrase out before she snarled suddenly, ripping the pen from my hand and scribbling furiously.

  “What is she—”

  “Hold on,” I said, holding up a hand. “Let her speak. This is how she talks.”

  Except she wasn’t writing her words out. I was familiar with her large, shaky scrawl, and that wasn’t what was streaking across the page.

  No, it was a drawing of some sort. I watched as shapes formed across the page, stick figures at first, but then building upon themselves in layers until there were three distinct forms standing in a familiar room.

  “This is them!” I said, taking it from her as she handed it to me. “These are the people she saw.”

  “This doesn’t exactly absolve her from—”

  But abruptly, I was very done with both of the stodgy men. “Oh, would you shut up already? How are we supposed to oracle if you don’t let us do the oracle-thing! Now be quiet!”

  The man gawked at me a moment, and Bronn laughed outright. “Your Highness, are you—”

  “Whatever you’re about to ask, I assure you, the answer will disappoint you, so perhaps it would be better if you didn’t finish that question.”

  That finally got the man to fully snap his jaw shut, and I could concentrate on Sokhanya’s drawings.

  And boy, was she drawing. One right after the other, rapid and shaky, but legible. Or at least to me. Krisjian just watched us, quiet in his corner, book closed and put to the side. If he was surprised or confused by what was going on, he didn’t show it.

  They told a story, albeit one with lots of leaps and bounds, and not entirely in order. I followed along as best I could, Mickey coming up beside me to help place the pictures like a puzzle.

  “This truly is a bit uncanny,” Bronn said, watching us intently. “If there were enough of you working together, you could uncover any plot you wanted.”

  “If that were true, we wouldn’t all be dead,” Krisjian said far too matter-of-factly.

  “Wow, that was particularly doom and gloom,” I remarked, holding up two pieces of paper and comparing the depictions. “Something you want to tell us?”

  He just shrugged and finally stood, coming up to look at the pictures as Sokhanya continued to desperately scrawl. “Nothing in particular. Just a general state of truth. We were hunted down and used until we were all used up. Nothing left. None of us understand why the oracles started to be reborn, but it’s easy to see how all of it could just repeat itself.”

  “Right. Well, that’s not an utterly depressing thought. Anyways, let’s focus on these pictures while Sokhanya is still churning them out.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  I gave him an uncertain look, but the corner of his lips just curled in a smirk. “Are you sassing me, young man?”

  “We should focus on the pictures,” he said, his smirk growing minutely.

  Huh, it seemed like the young man really was coming into himself. That was something I’d have to celebrate later. But for the moment, we were certainly occupied.

  I couldn’t say how long we all stood there, arranging, turning, but the sun had visibly moved across the sky by the time Sokhanya flopped back, breathing hard and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. I forgot about the papers for a moment, leaning over her face and mouthing slowly.

  “Are you alright?”

  She see
med to understand because she nodded vaguely, eyes fluttering. Mickey left my side, returning with a cool washcloth that she placed on the small woman’s forehead. Gently taking the notebook from where it had fallen on the bed, she wrote out a message.

  Rest up. You earned it.

  Sokhanya nodded again, then her eyes slid closed and her breath steadied. I watched her for another moment before turning back to the papers. But the generals and Bronn were already over them, picking them up and staring at them like they were mythical treasure maps.

  “I… This shows us exactly what they’re planning when they arrive.”

  “And how they’re arriving,” the other finished.

  “Perfect,” Bronn said with a toothy grin that was somehow still charming. “If we just reach out to some of our contacts—”

  “There’s no time for that,” Krisjian said idly again, his hands ghosting over the papers. “They’re on their way to the airport now.” He laughed. “Isn’t that funny? Dragons on an airplane. I suppose they are old, and the ocean is awfully big, but still… It’s kinda funny.”

  “I… What are you doing, Krisjian?” I asked cautiously.

  But he just took my hand, and then Mickey’s, before staring off into the distance. “They’re going through a different sort of entrance. A rich one. They don’t like the common folk. There are only a few people with clearance to work there. That one now, she’s pretty. Can you see her?”

  I shook my head, chills rolling down my arms. I recognized the tone of prophecy, but it sounded so much stranger out of someone else’s mouth. I couldn’t see anything, but I didn’t say as much.

  “She needs to go to the bathroom,” he continued. “Real bad. They’ll have to wait for her to get out to be checked in.”

  “He can’t really be doing that, can he?” a general asked. “That’s too much, even for an oracle.”

  I affixed them with a grin that was maybe a bit more malevolent than it needed to be. “You’d be surprised about what we can do.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t gloat in front of the man who was looking at us with suspicion and horror, but that was something I could deal with on another day. For the moment, I needed to give Krisjian all my concentration.

  “The funny thing about all these fancy bathrooms here is that it’s apparently the worst nightmare is if one is trapped inside with no toilet paper.”

  “Wait, you’re going to make it so there’s magically no toilet paper in one of the stalls?” I probably shouldn’t have been asking questions, but how could I not? There were certain things that seemed impossible, even to me, and toilet paper-based magic was well after the line I drew in my head.

  “No, but maybe we can influence her to think that there isn’t any at all.”

  “Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Mickey remarked. But Krisjian just gave her a baleful sort of grin.

  “Yeah, that’s probably a smart idea.”

  Whoo boy, teenage drama was certainly something else. I was beginning to wonder if he was going to wear thick eyeliner and get into bands from my own younger years that were experiencing a resurgence.

  But the boy just kept on, laying out brick by brick what he was doing—delaying the elders, making them miss their flight, making them grow irritated. By the time he let go of our hands, hours had passed, and they were going to have to get a flight the next day.

  “What they don’t know,” he said as we all let go of each other and shook out our limbs, “is that there’s going to be a big storm in the middle of their flight tomorrow, forcing them to land. I’ve bought us two days, and I’m willing to bet I can buy us more then.”

  “Good job, lad,” Bronn said, clapping his back. “You’ve given us time, and that’s what we need more than anything. With this, hopefully, we’ll have time to prepare for their arrival.”

  I nodded. “And we’re sure we know what they’re going to try to do?” I looked back to the papers, which detailed exactly what the three were planning. Their machinations and how they would rally the anti-humanists to storm the city. It was complicated, and there were gaps that I didn’t really understand, but Bronn and his generals seemed to, so I didn’t question it. Occasionally, in some of the drawings, there were strange runes or other intense shapes that I didn’t recognize, and my brain didn’t translate. Those markings definitely seemed to be something in the draconic language because the generals and prince had pointed to them, discussing what the different words could mean in the context.

  “Fairly certain. We should go over this more in depth so we can begin to form a plan, but this is a pretty solid framework.”

  “Honestly,” Mickey said, crossing her arms and cocking her hips to the side as she looked the generals over, “I’m a little surprised that you believe us right off the bat. I expected a bit more suspicion.”

  Unsurprisingly, it was the less rude one who spoke. “I assume that oracles would be able to tell when another is faking, and although I may disagree on your methodology, and your risk assessment, I do know that both Lady Masters have the prince’s—and our people’s—best interests in heart.”

  Oh. Well, I hadn’t been expecting that. “You know, that just might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  He bowed his head a little, and I swore I saw the slightest tinge of color across his cheeks. “Apologies. I shall always be grateful for what you have done to us, despite the histories between our two people.”

  The other general looked like he was sucking on a lemon, and I got the distinct feeling he didn’t quite agree with the politer one’s capitulations. Oh well. I couldn’t please everyone.

  “Um, apology accepted. But why don’t we move this somewhere else and let Sokhanya get her rest? I’ve been through the vision wringer before and it’s pretty intense.”

  There were agreements all around and we headed out. Before I shut the door, I saw that Krisjian had picked up his book just to settle in right where he had been at first and keep on reading. It filled me with a strange sort of pride to see that the terrified, starving street boy I had haunted was turning into someone so thoughtful. So kind. It was amazing what people could do when given a chance.

  But you can’t afford your best friend in the entire world the same courtesy?

  Ugh. The thought forced itself to the front of my memory, and I shoved it right back. I didn’t want to think about that at the moment.

  Or maybe ever again.

  6

  A Shaking Olive Branch

  Helping Bronn and the generals plan out how to delay and respond to the arrival of the three elders that we had seen had turned out way more exhausting than I thought it would be. And what was worse was that my visions weren’t a single ounce of help and neither were Mickey’s. Despite the fact that we were the ones to see that they would be sweeping into town like the bad guys in an old western, suddenly our abilities were next to useless.

  I wasn’t like Krisjian, who could apparently now convince people to do and see things if he thought really hard. That didn’t seem really oracle to me, more just outright magic, but that was something we could visit later.

  Maybe when ancient, evil dragons weren’t breathing down our collective necks.

  And yet, even with all of that going on, I couldn’t help it as my thoughts kept drifting back to Mallory.

  She had done a lot for me. But did that erase her betraying me? Did she even really betray me?

  Yeah… I really had just gone in swinging on her parents, and she had confessed to me that they were involved with the folks who killed my parents vaguely. But that was different from seeing it with my own eyes. It was different when I knew that they went on to outright influence the deaths of every other oracle the anti-humanists sent them after.

  But also, maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe I also blamed her a little. Her parents did what they did because she was so sick. If she hadn’t needed heart surgeries, if she hadn’t been born, then maybe my family would still be alive.

  Except
I knew that wasn’t true. If it wasn’t Mallory’s parents, it would have just been someone else. If it wasn’t her heart surgeries, maybe she would have been hurt. Maybe even misdiagnosed. I’d seen them kill children, I had no doubt that Estelle and the others would hurt one of their own kind as a means to an end.

  Yet if I knew all that, why was I so angry at her?

  I had no idea. And yet when I tried to return to my room at dinner, my brain thoroughly aching from all the planning, thinking, and trying to force visions, I found myself at her door.

  No one had told me where her room was, or that she had moved since her parents’ banishment, and yet I knew it anyways. Funny how, even after all the amazing things I had done, it was something so simple that surprised me. But when I stared at the plain door I had arrived at without meaning to, I knew without a doubt that my once-best friend was on the other side.

  I knocked twice, despite my mind scrambling to think why I was there and what I should do, and when a reedy voiced beckoned me to enter, I did.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a hospital-like room that was far too warm to be comfortable. There was a single small table in the corner, a recliner, a TV mounted to the wall, a bookshelf, and a small, twin bed in the center. I could see a door on the opposite wall that I assumed led to a bathroom, and that was it.

  “D-Davie?”

  My gaze flicked to the bed where I saw none other than Mallory huddled under a pile of blankets. Her face was gray and dripping with sweat, her eyes red-rimmed with a hazy sort of look to them that so often came with sickness.

  “Wow, you look like crap,” I said without thinking. Because she did, and I could only see her face. I wondered what her hair was like under there. Had she been brushing it? Could she brush it? I had to admit, she looked like she was on death’s doorstep, but my logical side supplied that if she was that sick, one, Bronn would have told me, and two, the dragons would have her set up in a tricked-out medical room like Sokhanya.