The Forbidden Oracle

by Devyn Forrest

  “Also...” Celeste began, ticking her tongue along the bottom of her lower lip. “I’m pretty sure that Oracles aren’t supposed to have children.”

  I guffawed. Strangely, a feeling of overwhelming comfort fell over me. “Then that settles it. My mom must have kept this book for someone else. She probably just stored it for safekeeping it for someone.”

  Celeste’s eyes darkened. She lifted her wine glass higher, seemingly lost in thought. “I don’t know about you. But all this reading has me itching for another drink.”

  Carefully, I closed the ancient leather-bound book. Celeste padded toward the doorway as I slid the book back into its hiding place in the cabinet. As I closed the cabinet door, I felt strangely drawn to it, like a magnet. My fingers flickered across the top and the leather cover felt strangely warm, like human skin.

  “Jesus,” I muttered to myself and quickly placed back in its spot.

  Downstairs, Celeste poured us healthy glasses of wine. We were already flirting with the bottom of the bottle, and my eyesight felt hazy, like the edge of a mirage. Celeste had thrown around some theories she thought made sense about why the book was in my mother’s study, but we finally gave up on the conversation. Then she started gabbing about some boy she liked at the academy but could tell that I still wasn’t fully invested in the conversation.

  “Hey. Hey.” She pressed her finger into my bicep, making me shake.

  “What?”

  “I was wondering. Have you ever thought about which species you would want to be if you could?”

  Celeste had never asked me this before. Now that I thought about it, it was pretty funny; it had never come up. I was becoming conscious that Celeste had always felt a little bad for me since my father’s genes had fully taken over the magical ones from Mom.

  “Come on. You must have thought about it,” Celeste teased me and nudged me in the shoulder playfully.

  I shrugged. “I’ve thought about... what kind of person I want to be when I grow up. I’ve thought about where I want to go to college. You know normal things.”

  Celeste rolled her eyes. “Boring. Give me the juicy stuff.”

  Suddenly, as I looked at her and I had a strange feeling. It crept across my stomach, then over my chest. It made my body feel tight and strange like I was in a torture chamber and the steel spikes were coming toward me.

  Images. Celeste—half-naked, pressed against the side of a little shack by docks I didn’t recognize. A boy—nearly man—there in front of her, kissing her, pouring his lips across her neck. His blonde curls skated down his back, glowing in the moonlight, but his face was masculine, aggressive, with high, chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a rugged surfer.

  Celeste whispered—“We should be careful.” But the boy, he returned, “Come on. You’re a witch, aren’t you? Can’t you just, you know. Deal with it?” Celeste giggled. It was clear she was drunk. “Okay,” she said, her voice light and airy. “I’ll just deal with it.”

  My brain felt punched. I flung back against the edge of my chair, feeling sweat pool at the base of my spine. Celeste gave me a drunken, curious expression; her eyebrows pulled together.

  “What just happened? Where did you go for a second?” she asked.

  My mouth dropped open. “What happened to my face?”

  Celeste shrugged. “It went all lax and you looked like you might have had some kind of seizure. I don’t know. It freaked me out for a second. But now you’re back.” She tossed back a bit more wine.

  “Celeste... This boy you’re talking about. Does he have long blonde hair?”

  Slowly, Celeste returned her glass of wine to the table. She tapped at the glass with her pinky nail. “Yes. Did I mention it?” Her gaze was quizzical, unsure.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” I paused, biting at my bottom lip. “I just. I don’t think he’s a really good guy.”

  Celeste’s laugh tinkled through the night air. `We hadn’t bothered to turn on the kitchen light, and we were only illuminated with moonlight, showing little shadows on our cheeks and beneath our chins. We looked weird and skeletal, almost; just two ghoulish skeletons drinking wine deep into the night.

  “Why don't you think he’s a good guy? You don’t even know him,” Celeste returned. Her words a little slow.

  “I just. I have this feeling about him.” There was literally no way I could explain it. My eyes returned to the ground. “Maybe it’s intuition.”

  “Normal people don’t just have intuition, not on our level anyway,” Celeste snapped. “There’s something else at play here. I mean, think about it. Think about—about me hearing my mom talk about you potentially going to Origins Academy. Think about finding your aunt out back in the woods in the rain, like she’s going crazy, or something. And now, think about finding that book—and all these ‘feelings’ you’re having. I don’t know. Maybe you’re just playing pretend or something, like when we were girls. But if you’re not brave enough to ask your aunt about what’s going on. And you’re going to instead just sit around here and tell me that the guy I like isn’t good enough...”

  Suddenly, there was a crack at the door. I was so on-edge, I burst up and blinked down the hallway. Zoey and Aunt Maria walked in through the door. At first, my ears hunted for the sound of their voices. But there was only silence, followed by Zoey’s call, “Girls, we’re home.”

  Celeste and I joined them in the next room. In the foyer, Zoey was helping Aunt Maria up the stairs. She looked drained and exhausted. All the color had drained was drained from her face when she finally looked at me.

  “What happened?” I asked, closing the space between us. I reached for Aunt Maria and she smiled and patted my arm.

  “It’s okay, honey. I just a small episode while we were out. I need my rest. Aunt Zoey is going to help me to bed. Everything will be alright. Okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” She said as she started retreating upstairs with Zoey helping her.

  I looked at Celeste and then back at both of them, climbing the stairs. “What is she saying? What kind of episode? What the hell is going on?” I stammered. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, Ivy,” Celeste offered and placed a hand on my arm. I’m sure she could see my concern that was now etched on my face.

  To put it frankly, everything was starting to get creepier. A few moments later, Zoey walked down the stairs and joined us in the living room. She looked absolutely stricken.

  “We were drinking our coffee and then, out of nowhere, she went completely frozen. Like a statue, she was staring into the corner. It looked like she saw something. A ghost or... I don’t know.”

  “That’s what she looked like in the woods the other day,” I murmured. “Like she could see something that I couldn’t.”

  A strange, slow tear rolled down Zoey’s cheek. “Everyone started panicking. Asking me if I knew what was going on or how to help her. I just tried my best to guide her out of the coffee shop and get her home. She was really weak and pale all the way back. And her skin—it’s so cold!”

  Zoey took a breath. “It was icy cold and seemed to be growing colder. I made sure to wrap her up in a blanket to keep her nice and warm. But I think it’s time. Something is coming,” Zoey murmured. Her hands clenched into fists. “I think it’s best that we stay here tonight, just in case something happens.”

  “No, that’s not necessary, Zoey. We’ll be okay.” I said, hoping she would understand. In my ears, I sounded far older than my sixteen years. Zoey gave me a look of understanding but still searched my face to see if I had any hesitation there. “I’m going to do this myself. Take care of her. It’s been Aunt Maria and me for the last four years, and only her and me. I can take care of her.”

  At first, I didn’t think Zoey was going to comply. But slowly, she stepped back toward the foyer, gesturing for Celeste to follow.

  “I know this is bigger than I can possibly understand,” Zoey offered. “Thousands of years in the making.
She’s told me only the bare minimum. And now, it seems to come to fruition before us. You must be strong and have patience, my dear. Stronger than you were when your parents passed away and stronger, now that you and your aunt must take every action to keep yourselves safe.”

  I wanted to demand what the hell she was talking about but now was not the time. But she said the words with endless finality like they were the last words spoken in a film and we had already run through to the credits. They also reeked of whatever Celeste and I had read upstairs in that very old book.

  Thousands of years in the making.

  Celeste gave me a frightened look, then a grimace, before mouthing the words, “I’ll call you,” and walking toward the door with her mom. It had been one of the most confusing nights of my life, and my confusion was echoed back in her eyes. All our lives, we had assumed that she was the witch and I was the only human.

  But now, it felt like the world was shifting beneath our feet.

  Chapter Four

  “Shit,” I muttered, the minute that Celeste and Zoey left our house. I leaned my back against the door and ran my hand through my hair as thoughts flew through my mind at a speed I couldn’t even process. My eyes trailed to the top of the staircase where I could see my aunt standing in her white nightgown. Again she looked she was in a trance. I bolted from where I stood and took two steps at a time up the steps. When I stepped onto the top landing, I grabbed her arm and guided her back into her bedroom and helped her lie down on her bed.

  I sat on the edge of her bed as I pulled the comforter over her and my hand gripped Mom’s icy one. “Aunt Maria, what is happening? Please tell me something.”

  She closed her eyes and muttered. “They know we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

  I pushed some of her hair off her forehead as she fell into a deep sleep. I sat there staring her as I tried to put everything together, but I just didn’t have enough pieces of the puzzle to figure out anything. I would have to be patient like Zoey had advised. But Jesus Christ, I needed to know now.

  It was going on just before midnight when I finally changed into my pajama’s. I had sat in Aunt Maria’s room just to make sure she wouldn’t get up and sleepwalk again. After changing, I grabbed a glass of water and made my way back to her room. When I entered, she was awake and sitting up with her back resting against the headboard. I took a few strides across the room and sat on the edge of the bed and passed her the glass.

  “Thirsty?”

  I watched her nod and take the glass from me. She slowly drank it and then placed it on the nightstand beside her.

  “What happened?” Aunt Maria murmured.

  “You had some sort kind of seizure at the coffee shop,” I explained. “Zoey brought you home.”

  She nodded slowly and hazel eyes found mine. “What were you doing while we were gone?”

  At first, I felt afraid—like she’d discovered Celeste and I were drinking and would reprimand us. But instinct told me that she didn’t care at all that we were drinking wine. I watched as she raised an eyebrow and gave me a curious look.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice low. I could feel my heart pick up its pace.

  Aunt Maria looked at me again with a look that told me she knew I was up to something. That was one thing I could never get away with lying to either my mom or my aunt. I was a dead giveaway. “I know you were up to something. You did something. Tell me, honey.”

  I didn’t even have to say anything other than look at her.

  “You found it,” she murmured and placed a hand to her heart like she was shocked.

  A shiver raced up and down my spine.

  “Don’t lie, Ivy. We’ve always been honest with one another,” Aunt Maria continued. “I know you’ve found it and I can feel you had another vision or something has happened. Am I right?”

  “I didn’t mean...” I tried, although my cheeks turned crimson, and I knew I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. There was no point in lying. “I found Mom’s book in her study.”

  Aunt Maria closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before opening her eyes again. She grabbed my hand and covered it with hers, lightly patting it. I watched as a small smile played at the corner of lips before she spoke.

  “Oh, honey. I knew you would find it. It was just a matter of time. I’m not mad. Actually, I’m a little relieved. Your mother professed that you would never find her hiding spot. I argued with that woman until I was blue in the face. She was so damn, hard-headed.” She chuckled at the memory she was speaking of.

  I smiled to myself as she continued.

  “That book, Scripture from the Original Tribesman, sets the laws of our tribe. It also has every spell you can imagine. It’s a very old and sacred book—one that was supposed to stay with our tribe. But your mother decided to take it.” She patted my hand and then let it go.

  I let out a heavy sigh as I stood and watched Aunt Maria stand. She left her bedroom and started for the staircase, so I followed her down the stairs.

  I supposed it didn’t matter, now, that I had a million questions about our origin—or whether or not I was actually a supernatural all along. I knew everything was coming to a head and that I would learn everything soon enough.

  Finally, we rounded the corner on the main level and found our way to Mom’s study. Once within, she shut the door behind us. Muttering to herself, she splayed her hands across the door and closed her eyes. It seemed like she was performing some sort of incantation, although I had never seen her do anything like this before.

  Then, she turned toward me. With a flick of her wrist, a little drawer unfurled from the bottom of the desk. She knelt to draw out a bottle of wine, which she uncorked and then poured into two glasses, which she also found in the drawer.

  “These sorts of things are better with a drink in hand,” she said softly and winked at me.

  After she poured us two glasses, she held hers up and we clinked them toasting. “To my sister, Coralia!” she said. Then she dropped down to the second drawer from the top. Inside was what looked like a photo album, perhaps forty or fifty years old. She yanked it out and splayed it across the desk.

  “I know you have no idea of our lineage, Ivy,” she murmured. “Tonight, I will tell you a little.”

  I looked at her with wide eyes, patiently waiting. My blood pumped too quickly. She flicked open the photo album. The first photo was of a baby, held in the arms of a jolly-faced woman, who stood next to a burly-looking man of about thirty-five. The photo seemed to have been taken around fifty years before, perhaps in the sixties—with that grainy, sun-drenched look to everything.

  “That’s your mother,” Aunt Maria said, reminiscing with love in her eyes for her sister. She took a sip of her wine as she traced my mother’s face with her finger. A tear gently rolled over and onto her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. “And that’s my mother and father. Coralia may have mentioned this to you before, but they were—or are—shapeshifters. Marvelous people. They only wanted the best for me and you’re mother. And I couldn't have imagined what they were getting into when my mother gave birth...”

  I didn’t want to pressure her with any questions. I wanted Aunt Maria to tell the story at her own pace, even though I didn’t fully understand what she meant. Aunt Maria flicked to the second and third pages, drawing up various images of their early childhood, along with her relationship with her younger brother. I’d never known Mom had even had a brother. In the few photographs I had seen was only of her and my grandparents.

  “What you have to understand about our race is that they keep the peace amongst the supernaturals factions and humans,” Aunt Maria continued. “They can transform into whomever they please to maintain necessary alliances around the world. Some of the biggest wars of mankind were ended because of the work of shapeshifters. And my parents were terribly proud of who they were. I suppose why wouldn’t they be?”

  I nodded. “I had always thought you were something like, Mom,
too. But that you didn’t care to be within the tribe anymore like Mom—that you wanted instead to live a normal life as a human.”

  Aunt Maria reached across the desk and grabbed my hands with her own. She looked into my eyes and I only felt the love she had for me. “Honey, you have no idea. Your mother didn’t leave the tribe just to come and live a normal life. She had no choice, Ivy. She had to run. It was either that or face her punishment.”

  I pulled my hands back, trying to process her words. I was a little shocked, actually. “Punishment? Why would she have to run from her own family?” I asked, not understanding.

  Aunt Maria pressed her finger across her lips and tapped toward the windows, which stretched in a nearly full circle around us. She muttered her little incantation again, flashing her hands across the windows. When she drew back to look at me, she allowed her shoulders to fall.

  “There’s so much you don’t yet know, darling,” she murmured and took a step closer to me. “There’s so much we have kept from you because we had no choice. I vowed to mother I would keep you safe. After your mother explained the prophecy to me, I fully understood what my job was. It was to make sure you survived. Not to stay with my tribe or be with my family. Not to be caring for my parents in their very old age. But instead to be here, in Hillside Falls with you.” She insisted and placed her hands on my shoulders.

  I gave her a puzzled look and she only smiled at me.

  “You’ll understand everything in due time, child. Trust me.” She said and kissed me on the forehead.

  I went and sat in a little cushioned reading chair in the corner and propped up my knees. As I waited for her to sit back down, I sipped from the wine glass, my brain feeling increasingly fizzy with confusion. At least the wine calmed my nerves a bit.

  “Your mother had cast one the oldest spells around this town and house,” she explained. “It was down before you were even born. Almost eighteen years ago. But I feel them growing weaker with each passing day. I worry that they’ll find us that they can hear us. So I do what my sister taught me and re-chant the spell through the air as many times as I can. But soon, it will be like I’m operating with broken tools. Nothing about this spell will stay.”