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

by Jada Fisher

  “Great Seer?” I murmured. “I think I remember seeing her once when I was dead.”

  “You what now?” That was Mickey, of course.

  “Saw her. When I was roaming around in that…whatever place I was in, I saw all sorts of things I probably wasn’t supposed to. I saw all the way going back to the beginning. I can’t remember most of the details—side effect of being alive, I suppose—but I think I remember that much.”

  I closed my eyes again, trying to call back to it. I remember seeing a few things from her perspective. The building of her great college. When she accepted a new wave of venerated apprentices. A few more flashes here and there. I remember seeing long, long auburn curls and hands of deep mahogany, along with a couple reflections that were bleary at best.

  “Yeah, I’ve definitely seen her once or twice,” I said before continuing.

  The discovery of these new worlds, all so different from our own, inspired our people, spurring an entirely new era of research and magic.

  However, despite the popularity of the research, the study of the mirrors remained a fringe endeavor, fit only for scholars and mages with nothing to do but explore obscure magics. It became a school of its own, but one far removed from required curriculum of a capital oracle.

  It was three generations after their discovery that we now understand the turning point that has led us to all the war. All the death. Our society has all but collapsed, and our enemy is only temporarily defeated. I fear that, in the end, he will be unstoppable, and all of this will be for naught.

  Perhaps that is why I am inscribing this record, in the vain hope that someone will read it, someone will listen, and learn from our mistakes.

  “Well, that doesn’t bode well.”

  I shook my head, heartrate starting to pick up.

  Because it was on the one hundredth and fifty-seventh year that Faeldrus of the Shepherd’s Peak first looked into the moonpool and became obsessed with what he saw therein.

  Faeldrus? Why did I know that name? It sounded familiar, bouncing around my head like a nightmare that I had forgotten.

  A bright student, he was in line to be added to the new apprenticeship for the next Great Seer. Some thought he might even be apt to be one himself, in many decades to the future, and perhaps it was that expectation, or even that ambition, that started his greed.

  At first, he was candid about his machinations. He wanted to find a way to travel to these distant lands, to discover and learn and plant our own colonies to grow our empire. He often said that the others, the dwarves, the dryads, the shifters and the shades, the halflings, the nightshades, all of them were too stuck in the past, that they would drown in tradition and stagnation.

  Naturally, most considered his endeavors eccentric—perhaps even wasteful—but Faeldrus continued with his ambitions, learning and researching and gaining status within the fields of gifted seers.

  If we had not found his detailed records in the crumbled ruins of our city, perhaps we would still be in the dark to what he had done. But it is because of his meticulous planning and experimentation that we now understand the full scope of his ambition and greed.

  Those scrolls have been burned. Memorized by a select few of our surviving Great Seers, but otherwise wiped out. For it is his knowledge of these mirrored lands that has brought us to the brink of destruction. One I think we might not recover from.

  He sleeps, but I can feel in my bones that it is temporary. Perhaps, if Maedryell hadn’t betrayed us, we would not be so thoroughly torn apart from within. But I hear that she is close to capture. I pray that she pays for all of her sins.

  Wait.

  Faeldrus. Maedryell.

  My heart kicked up another notch as that awful memory played in my mind again, the one where the rotted dragon was ripping my arm from my body, trying to eat me, poisoning me. Everything had been happening so fast and my head had been throbbing while my stomach was heaving but I remembered those names.

  Faeldrus, that was what the reaper had called him, when she’d swooped in and saved me by cutting off my arm. And he had recognized her to call her Maedryell in return. They had known each other?

  And apparently, she had been on his side?

  I instantly felt nauseous. Had I been tricked? Had the spirit that I thought I had won over been playing me the entire time?

  Well, no, that didn’t seem right either. They had fought. She had saved me from him, and he didn’t seem pleased. She’d healed me. Was she the one who had hidden me from his gaze? That was the only explanation that made sense to me because I certainly hadn’t been powerful or lucid enough to generate a shield of that type for myself.

  “Davie? What’s wrong?”

  “The traitor it’s talking about in here is the spirit that’s been sent after me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “This isn’t really something I think I’d joke about.” I turned the page, my hands back to trembling.

  “Is there more?”

  I knew I was dipping into sassy little-sister territory when I shot her a look. “There’s literally a whole book in my hands, Mickey.”

  “I’m going to give that a pass because you’ve recently recovered from brain trauma but keep going.”

  “Right, this page just needs to do the translating thing.”

  I waited for the words to do their move and melt thing, which was specifically less magical the second time and more akin to a loading screen that was taking way too long. No one spoke as it fixed itself, however, all of them waiting for me to read again.

  It was quite a bit of pressure considering that up until the previous few days, I hadn’t been able to read beyond a couple of letters at a time. But after a few beats, the writing settled itself, and I started again.

  Part of Faeldrus’s plan was to subvert the idea that the praxis of summoning celestial blessing was rooted in the practice of—

  Sokhanya shook her head and let go of Mickey to turn several more pages, then even more, her fingers stroking over the page as if they were Braille. Could she even read Braille? I was pretty sure she didn’t and also that that was a blind thing, not a deaf thing. But after skipping about a quarter of the thin journal, she settled and gripped Mickey once again.

  Letters melted for a third time and then I tried again.

  It was Maedryell’s trial today. Many wanted her executed on sight for the crimes she committed against us, but we could not deny that without her aid, we never would have been able to banish Faeldrus and lock him away, nor find an escape from our world before its total collapse.

  But it is also by her hand that the shades and shifters have been cursed to one form, even those who were not indoctrinated to the corrupt seer’s power. They demand justice of her, but by justice, they largely just mean blood.

  It was two years ago since my teacher gave me this tome to continue the record, lest we forget, and sometimes when I reread her words and the path that lead Faeldrus into the unstoppable beast, it’s hard to believe how much my ancestors missed. His studies and machinations seem so obvious to me now, several hundred years later, including how he indoctrinated so many seers. I wonder how much we can blame Maedryell, who was adopted by him when she was merely a few years old, her parents lost to an attack that we didn’t realize was orchestrated by the man himself.

  “Wait, so this is written by someone else than the beginning,” I said, turning another page. “It’s like a loose diary of the rotted dragon. Except, in this, he wasn’t always a rotted dragon. Or a dragon in general. In fact, this is sort of implying that he—or the reaper lady—somehow created the first shifter dragons.”

  “They… They what?” Bronn asked, sitting up straighter. “Our history said we crawled from the earth itself after lightning struck the heart of the world.”

  “…and you believe that?” Mal asked a bit incredulously.

  “I don’t comment on any of your religions, you know.”

  “Right. Point taken.”

 
“Yeah, it says that shifters used to be a general thing but something about Faeldrus changed that. This part is after they locked him in that pocket dimension, and they caught Maedryell.”

  “And Maedryell is the grim reaper that’s after you?”

  “I’m pretty sure, yeah.”

  “…I am very confused.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said before looking back to the page.

  What is the right punishment for someone who unwittingly led to the death of millions? To the complete destruction of our entire world, all the magic drained from it, but then saw the light and worked to save everyone that was left? None of us would be here if not for her.

  In the end, the few of our remaining Great Seers decided that she would spend an eternity in reparation for all she has done. Our burial grounds are forsaken, locked in with Faeldrus and his greed, and we abandoned the celestial gates. Those of us who have scattered to the different mirrored worlds have no guide to our afterlife, no celestial guides to take us to our final homes.

  So, she was given the last of our greatest powers, the dangerous knowledge that we learned from Faeldrus and his studies. She can move through the mirrors, an equal part of all of them and yet not a part of any. She will not know thirst, nor hunger, nor pain or fear. And it is with those gifts that she will collect our kind and return us to our final home so we may truly rest with our ancestors.

  I don’t know what I think of a punishment that lasts forever, I cannot even imagine such a thing, but I see the reasoning behind it. They say they are beginning the first of the rituals today and I cannot help but wonder what will happen to Maedryell in the physical sense. Will she die? Cease to exist? Or will she still be able to walk around as one of us, but unable to enjoy the pleasures of life.

  I am not sure it is something I ever want to find out.

  I gave a shorthand account of what happened and Krisjian let out a low whistle.

  “So that is the woman we hit with a car?”

  “Yeah. At least we know that didn’t hurt her. Just sent her away for a while. I wonder how that even worked.”

  “I just thought very hard about something that Mal taught me,” Krisjian said, a light color building on his cheeks.

  Ooh, that was interesting.

  “Wait, what’d I teach you? You didn’t stab her in the gut, so…you sure that was me?”

  He nodded. “We had a conversation about magnets. You showed me how they could attract each other or push them away if they were powerful enough. I just thought very hard about her and Davie being magnets of the same pole and how they would repel each other no matter how much one of them wanted to get close. And that worked? I’m not sure how, but I think my gifts might be something more like…um, I don’t know the word in English.”

  There was a whole lot I wanted to address right there about Krisjian being able to influence an actual spirit of death by just thinking real hard, but I was cut off by Mallo—

  No. Mal. Just Mal.

  “Ooh, right. Magnets. When I was giving the lockpicking lesson. Okay.”

  I shoved away the sinking, rending feeling that was quickly rolling through me and instead tried to put on a jovial smile.

  “Why were you teaching my teenage charge about lockpicking?”

  “It’s a valuable skill and you were busy being dead, so you don’t get to judge what I filled our time with.”

  “Good argument.”

  Sokhanya, who had been waiting patiently up to that point, let go of Mickey and I and started turning pages of the book, still tucked between Bronn and I.

  “Ah, well, I guess story time is over.”

  “Does she even know how to read that?” Mal asked.

  “Hey, don’t talk about her like she’s not here. That’s rude.”

  In response, Mal just flopped over all of our legs so that her head was in Sokhanya’s lap. “Hey, you, can you even read that?”

  The oracle just shrugged and that seemed to be that.

  “Well, that was quite the information dump,” I said, chewing at my lip. “I feel like I learned a lot and there’s more to go, but I don’t exactly know if any of that was useful or not. For all the drama it had about making sure it was found, I dunno, I thought it might have the secret to defeat the rotted dragon or something. Not his origin story. And only the cliff notes to his story at that.”

  “Well, there’s more to read. Maybe we should just focus on rest now, while we can.”

  “Good idea.” I settled a bit more, resting my head against Bronn’s shoulder. It wasn’t that difficult to let my eyelids droop and exhaustion to take me away. Even with all the magic used to heal me, I still had so much farther to go.

  6

  Same Old Song and Dance

  I wished that I could say being woken up by screaming was an especially novel experience for me, but that just wouldn’t be true. The moment my brain registered the high-pitched shriek of someone close to me, I was jolting up with both of my hands raised as if I was going to pummel someone.

  Bold reactions for someone who got winded walking around a room.

  A sharp roar sounded from Bronn beside me and I could hear scales beginning to scratch against each other along his skin before someone jumped forward and cranked the emergency lantern several times.

  “Mickey?”

  There was no attacker, no danger, just my sister, slumped forward where we’d all fallen asleep in our little pile with an unearthly sound coming from her mouth.

  I crawled over Bronn and gently helped her sit up. The sound cut off and her eyelids fluttered, a light blue glow behind them. Was that what it was like for everyone whenever I had a vision? It was a bit freaky, I had to admit.

  “Hey, Mickey, you okay in there? It’s alright. You’re only having a vision.” Or at least I was pretty sure she was having a vision. True, our gifts were quite different from each other, as apparently all oracles were, but we shared some habits. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but just breathe, okay? No matter how scary it is, you’ll come out the other end. It’s not real, okay?”

  “Can you hear us when you’re in your visions?” Bronn asked lightly from beside me, his features already back to being completely human.

  “No, not usually. But there’s always exceptions.”

  “So, would you want us to do this for you when you get visions?”

  I couldn’t remember the last time I even had one. I remembered back when they used to be a huge production for me. How they had allowed me to save the day more than once. If I had had any idea then how much our abilities would expand as more of us found each other, I probably would have run away screaming.

  “I mean, I don’t think it would hurt.”

  He nodded sagely and it was cuter than it had any right to be. But I was quickly distracted from my appreciation as Mickey let out a whimper in front of me, her eyes slowly cracking open.

  “Hey there,” I murmured as she blinked several times at me. “You back with us?”

  Her brows furrowed and I could tell she was taking a moment to come back to both herself and the reality we were in. “I… I think I just had a vision.”

  “They’re exhausting, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, I guess I had forgotten. It’s been a while. Precognition isn’t really my thing.” She blinked a couple more times before Mal produced a water bottle from who-knew-where and handed it to her. I watched her carefully as she chugged it, making sure to look out for any signs of duress.

  “But I don’t actually think it was real precognition,” Mickey said once she’d drained the entire thing.

  “You think it was a fake vision?”

  “No, I think it was real. I just think it wasn’t something that is going to happen, but rather something that’s happening right now, just not right here.”

  “Ah, like my visions of the anti-humanist elders?”

  Mickey’s expression sharpened. “Funny you should mention them, because I think the blond one was defini
tely a prominent figure in what I saw.”

  My stomach dropped and I felt a cold sweat start to bead on my brow.

  “That actually doesn’t sound very funny at all.”

  “And you’d be right. But I think that earthquake last night wasn’t just a ramification of the rotted dragon doing spells. I think they were trying to flush us out.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, he basically told me he was trying to find me.”

  “He who?” Bronn asked sharply.

  “The rotted dragon, who else?”

  “And when did this happen?”

  Oh right, I’d told them about Maedryell coming to help me but not the conversation I had before that. Whoops. Oh well, it wasn’t like I didn’t have a ton on my mind at the time.

  “Right, during the whole chasing thing. I was on a lot of drugs, okay, and I might have forgotten to tell any of you about that.”

  Bronn stared for a moment then shook his head. “I understand that they were necessary for your healing, but I am glad you seem to not need them anymore.”

  “Wait until I can do more than walk around a room a couple of times before you declare that,” I jibed before returning to my sister. “So, what was the elder doing?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, licking her lips. I knew that look—it was the one she always got when she was debating on giving me bad news or not. Yikes.

  “It looked like he was…interrogating.”

  “Interrogating who?”

  “Some of the dwarves they rounded up who tried to escape the tunnel collapse. Not all of them, but at least twenty.”

  I sat back on my haunches, letting out a long breath. I could only imagine what she saw if it had her screaming out from her physical body.

  “What was he trying to find out?”

  “To be honest, I think he was mostly just enjoying himself. But as for specific questions, there seemed to be a pretty broad range. If they knew who you were, where you were. If they knew where any of the oracles were. Details about the underground. How sophisticated the setup is here. If any of them heard information from dragons, if they knew where most of the dragons were hiding.”