The Rabbit And The Raven

by Melissa Eskue Ousley

  The oracle shifted into his jaguar form, and then Jon helped Cael onto the oracle’s back before they started off into the forest.

  Marisol scooped up Jon’s and Cael’s packs and followed.

  Abby picked up her pack and David’s, studying David as he carefully tested his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” David whispered back. “I guess my claws did quite a number on the Southern Oracle’s shoulder.” He had a feeling he’d be paying for that particular mistake all day. His body seemed to take longer to mend itself with larger wounds; minor ones tended to heal almost instantaneously.

  “What do you think of him?” Abby asked.

  David pondered for a moment. “He’s not quite what I expected. At least he doesn’t seem too put out by our horrific reception of him. That was less than ideal.”

  “Yeah—what a train wreck. Thank goodness he has a sense of humor,” Abby said.

  Chapter Eight

  THE BLOOD ALTAR

  The village was not quite what David had expected either. Given the Southern Oracle’s clothing, David had envisioned a smattering of rudimentary huts in a clearing. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when he was greeted by a sophisticated network of ornately carved spherical tree houses linked by suspension bridges.

  Laid out below on an outcropping of stone was a plaza with a breathtaking view of a magnificent waterfall. Below the waterfall’s dramatic plunge was a series of pools, each with its own smaller waterfall cascading into the next pool, stair steps forming a river that widened and flowed eastward. In shallow areas, water coursed over black rocks carpeted in green algae.

  When they stepped out of the perpetual grey-green twilight that defined daylight in the rainforest, David found the vivid emerald greens of the trees and turquoise blue of the sky stunning. The brightness of the sunlight made his eyes water.

  The villagers were no less colorful, garbed in clothes dyed in every shade imaginable, almost as though they were reflecting the rainbow formed by the mist of the waterfall. Some, like the Southern Oracle, were more scantily clad, but others wore modest one-shouldered sarongs. No one, male or female, was wearing pants or shoes like David and his fellow ambassadors. In the hot, humid air, this made perfect sense.

  It had been days since David and his friends had bathed, and sleeping in the dirt had not helped with personal hygiene. David could feel his clothes clinging to him. He could only imagine what he must smell like; he had become immune to his own stench.

  The Southern Oracle seemed to notice David’s discomfort. “Have no worry, Solas Beir. There is plenty of time to make you beautiful before the feast,” he chuckled. He motioned for several of the villagers to join him in the plaza. “Take our guests to the pools—they could use some rejuvenation after their difficult journey,” the oracle commanded. Then he grinned. “And give them something more suitable to wear.”

  The villagers nodded and smiled. A couple of the women cheerfully took Abby and Marisol by the hand and escorted them to steps leading to the pools above the plaza.

  As David watched the girls walk away, he turned to the oracle. “Forgive me for asking, but is there anything we should watch out for in the water? I don’t mean to seem overly cautious, but given all the dangers we encountered in the forest, the toothed toads that took a bite out of Cael…”

  The oracle nodded. “It is an understandable question. But do not worry—the botos will take care of you.”

  David didn’t know what botos were, but he thanked the oracle and followed half a dozen men down the steps to the lower pools. He noted that there was something strange about their appearance. They looked human, yet there was something beautiful and otherworldly about them. Their smooth, dark skin had an iridescent, pinkish sheen in the sunlight. In the center of their foreheads, at the edge of the hairline, there seemed to be a small, circular indentation.

  David’s suspicions were confirmed when he reached the water and saw the villagers swimming. They moved through it as smoothly as fish. A young boy dove into the pool, and when he broke the surface, David understood. These people, the botos, were river dolphins. They slipped in and out of dolphin form as they played in the water, taking human form when it suited them. There was a contagious joy about them as they splashed about.

  The pools were deeper than they seemed, and the water was warm, as if it were fed by hot springs rather than the cool rush of a waterfall. David settled in against the rock wall of the pool, scooting down into the water until his chin grazed the surface. He sighed contentedly as the warm water soothed his aching, sleep-deprived body. Jon and Cael followed suit.

  “You know all the crap we went through to get here?” Jon asked.

  David and Cael looked at each other and back at Jon. “Yeah,” David said. “What about it?”

  “Totally worth it,” Jon sighed. “I may stay in this pool for the rest of my life.”

  “Don’t fall asleep in here,” David laughed. “You’ll drown.”

  “Nah,” Jon said. “You heard our friend, the Jaguar King. The botos will take care of me. I don’t have a care in the world.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the pool’s edge.

  “Nor do I,” Cael agreed, and closed his eyes as well.

  David smiled. The water was working its magic on him too; for the first time in days—weeks even—he was feeling optimistic. He was sure their new friend would become an ally.

  And as if things couldn’t get better, beautiful singing started coming from the pools above them. The voices of the female botos drifted down, inspiring the men to harmonize with their voices.

  The music was not just beautiful—it was healing. The water vibrated with it. David could feel the music resonating through his body, mending his injured shoulder. He closed his eyes and tried to understand what was happening—the word “echolocation” came to mind. He knew the term referred to animals from the human world, and that it didn’t quite capture what he was experiencing, but it was close enough. It would do.

  Abby and Marisol were thrilled to trade their sweat-soaked clothes for beautiful multicolored sarongs. The boto women adorned them with necklaces made from stone beads. Abby recognized some of the gems—turquoise, carnelian, and even bits of hardened coral. “So beautiful,” she said, rolling a carnelian bead between her fingers.

  Marisol smiled at Abby as a boto woman combed and braided Marisol’s long hair, inserting more of the beads as she wove the hair into an intricate bun that seemed to be the preferred style in the village. In the course of their journey, the girls’ hair had become matted messes caked with oil and dirt. In an attempt to be practical, they had both pulled their hair back into braids, just to get the thick, heavy locks off their sweaty necks, but that had been a lost cause aesthetically speaking. “It just feels so good to be clean,” Marisol said. “I didn’t want to leave the water, but I can’t wait to eat.”

  “Yes,” Abby agreed. With the promise of a feast and a safe place to sleep, she felt better than she had in days.

  They met David, Jon, and Cael on the stone plaza as the moon was rising. The tree houses had taken on a soft glow, and looked like pale orbs floating in the treetops.

  “It’s like a Christmas tree,” Jon mused.

  “Well, maybe a more tropical version of one,” Marisol said. She smiled as Jon slid his arm around her waist.

  “Beautiful, are they not?” the Southern Oracle asked, stepping out onto the plaza’s pavers.

  “Very. Why do they glow like that?” Abby asked.

  “Fish oil,” the Southern Oracle replied. “We use it to waterproof our homes. If you peer down into the river tonight, you will see the light of the golden carp illuminating the water. In the daylight, they look as though they have bronze scales, but in the dark they are quite stunning. Come—the feast awaits.” He gestured to a long one-story building near the plaza.

  It too had intricate, glowing carvings on its beams and corbels. Its open doorway was dra
ped with swags of fuchsia and orange blooms that reminded Abby of hibiscus flowers. She couldn’t tell what they smelled like though, because the smell of barbequed meat wafted out of the longhouse, overwhelming her senses and making her mouth water.

  In the center of the building was a large fire pit with roasting meat skewered on a series of rotating spits. Above the fire, smoke drifted out into the night sky through a square hole in the roof. Several villagers moved along the long, rectangular tables, serving their guests. The feast consisted of wild boar, a myriad of fruits Abby had never heard of, and some kind of roasted jungle rodent.

  “Do not worry,” the Southern Oracle assured her, patting her hand as she stared at her plate. “It is not rabbit meat.”

  Jon tried it. “It’s good,” he said. “Tastes just like—”

  “Don’t say it,” Abby stopped him. But he was right—it was good and it did taste like chicken. She tried to think of it that way rather than whatever it was that scurried and scavenged in the dark rainforest. At least it wasn’t toad.

  After the meal, there was music and dancing, and the botos’ voices sounded as beautiful accompanied by instruments as they did a cappella.

  Finally, late into the night, the Southern Oracle invited David and his friends to join him in his home high above the plaza.

  “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Southern Oracle,” David said, sitting on a short, wooden stool. Abby and the others had settled on cushions on the flat hardwood floor of the spherical tree house. “We could not have asked for a more welcoming reception.”

  The oracle smiled, settling back into a woven chair that hung from the ceiling of his small, cozy home. “We do not have many guests, but we do love to entertain.” He studied David’s face and then leaned forward. “But let us hold counsel with honesty, Solas Beir. I know you did not come for the food.”

  “No, we didn’t, even though the food alone would have been worth the journey,” David said, smiling. “We come as diplomats. As the new Solas Beir, I felt it was important to meet with each oracle personally. And I seek you as an ally. The Kruorumbrae are rising again. The Kruor um Beir has escaped from the Wasteland and is gathering his forces. Many of our villages have already suffered from raids. War is inevitable. Because of this, I have appointed a new Western Oracle and I have met with the Northern Oracle, who has sworn her allegiance. We hope to gain yours and the Eastern Oracle’s as well. With our united forces, we will be more than a match for Tynan Tierney and we will be able to bring peace to our kingdom again.”

  “I thought as much,” the Southern Oracle replied, “but I must say no.”

  Abby, Jon, and Marisol collectively gasped, unable to contain their shock. David and Cael managed to keep their composure, but exchanged a look.

  David felt alarm thud through his veins, and his head began to ache. He had the urge to put his head in his hands and rub his temples, but he resisted, keeping his hands in his lap, trying to appear unruffled.

  “I recognize that my answer is not what you had hoped, and you wish to know why I have answered thus,” the oracle said.

  “Yes,” David said, his voice sounding steadier than he felt. “I do.”

  Sitting back in his chair, the oracle held his hands palm to palm, staring at his fingers thoughtfully for a moment before meeting David’s gaze. “You have seen our village. You see that we live peacefully. And while you have personally experienced the dangers of our forest, you can also appreciate that it serves as a barrier, protecting us from outside predators like the Kruorumbrae,” he explained. “I have no reason to believe that the Blood Shadows will breach our borders. If we continue as we are, we will prosper. But if we join you, my people will suffer. I cannot risk provoking an attack.”

  “But the Shadows have already entered the forest,” Abby said. “I saw Tierney there, and you yourself fought with the lamia. The Shadows are already encroaching on your borders.”

  “No, my dear, you are mistaken,” the oracle replied, turning to look at her. “Those were simply illusions. The forest knows your fears and defends itself by creating physical manifestations to eliminate threats to its survival. It is alive, you see, not just as individual plants and animals, but as one organism. I have no reason to believe that Tierney was truly present. But I do trust you saw a version of him. Perhaps he was trying to recruit you, as you claim. But perhaps it is your fear of him, Cai Aislingstraid, that made your dreams come to life.”

  “And the lamia?” Abby asked. She was clearly angered by his insinuation, but she looked like she was managing to keep her emotions in check.

  “I would say that illusion targeted her fears,” the oracle said, nodding toward Marisol. “It would seem she has some unfinished business regarding her mother.”

  “Maybe I do,” Marisol began, crossing her arms, “but I wouldn’t call what happened an illusion. It was real enough to try to kill me. I get that the plant was using camouflage to lure me in—even in the human world, we have carnivorous plants. And maybe Abby did dream up Tierney, and the toads were just coincidental, part of the forest’s efforts to exterminate us. But the lamia? That was something else entirely. Yes, she appeared as my mother, but do you usually encounter snake women in the forest? One with a tail like a siren’s?”

  “No,” the oracle admitted. “That was a first. I have only heard of creatures like that coming from the sea.”

  “My point exactly. She seemed like she was out of her element, and she had been tailing us since the first night we entered your realm. So then, how do you know for sure that the Shadows are not in the forest already?” Marisol asked.

  “I do not. But nevertheless, I cannot afford to help you. I am sorry. Please, stay with us as long as you wish. When you are ready to go, I will make sure you are well supplied and will send an escort to see you safely home,” the oracle offered.

  “Thank you—we appreciate that,” David replied. It wasn’t a lie. He really was grateful for the oracle’s hospitality, especially since their supplies were all but gone. But the oracle’s generosity felt like a meager consolation prize in the wake of David’s failure to gain an ally.

  He rose from his seat and gestured to the others to rise as well. “I see your reasons for not joining us. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I do understand. It’s very late, so we will retire to our own quarters now and let you rest as well. We still need to speak with the Eastern Oracle, so we will leave tomorrow, but we look forward to a time of fellowship with you and your people before we go.”

  “I look forward to that as well,” the oracle replied.

  “I can’t believe it,” Abby sighed, after Jon closed the door to the guest tree house. “How could he say no?”

  “I don’t know,” David said, deflated. “I hope it’s okay with you all that I said we’d leave tomorrow. I know this place is beautiful, but there’s no point in staying if he won’t join us. We really need to move on and speak with the Eastern Oracle.”

  “You were right to say what you did,” Cael said, putting his hand on David’s shoulder. “I understand the oracle’s reasons, but we must hurry and win what allies we can before Tierney makes his move.”

  “I think he’s a coward,” Marisol muttered, crossing her arms. Jon slipped his arm around her waist.

  “I may agree with you, Marisol, but it is best not to voice that opinion beyond our circle. The Southern Oracle has his reasons, and they may be more complex than we know. We must respect his decision and preserve our relationship with him,” Cael reasoned.

  “How’s your leg, Cael?” David asked. “Will you be ready to travel tomorrow?”

  “Almost completely healed, I think. The healing plant and the pool did wonders for me,” Cael answered. “For that I am very grateful to our host.”

  “Good,” David said. “I don’t want to push you and cause further injury.”

  “I will be fine,” Cael assured him. “It is late—let us rest while we can before our journey.” He pulled back the blanke
ts on his bed and sat down.

  David couldn’t help but notice that Cael winced slightly as he pulled the covers up over his injured leg. The skin around the wound still appeared swollen, but otherwise Cael’s rapid recovery seemed nothing short of miraculous.

  Abby tossed and turned beside David. The tree house rocked gently in the breeze and she should have been able to sleep. The low bed she was lying on was warm and comfortable. But sleep simply would not come. Finally she sat up.

  “Are you okay?” David whispered, reaching for her. The others were fast asleep. “More dreams about Tierney?”

  “No.” She took his outstretched hand. “I can’t sleep at all.”

  “Me neither.” He sat up and rubbed Abby’s back. “I’m so frustrated. I was sure he would come to our side.”

  “I was too.” She slid her legs to the side of the bed and stood up. “I’ll be back.”

  “Where are you going?” David asked.

  Abby walked over to the door of the tree house, opening it quietly. “I have to ask him something.”

  “Abby—I don’t think it’s a good idea to push him,” David cautioned. “Like Cael said, we have to respect his decision.”

  “It’s not about that. Trust me on this, okay?”

  He looked at her. “All right. Come back soon.”

  Abby nodded and slipped quietly out of the tree house.

  When she made it to the Southern Oracle’s small home, she knocked on the door. He answered a moment later. It didn’t look like he had been able to sleep either.

  “Ah, Cai Aislingstraid. I hope you have not come to try to change my mind,” the oracle said.

  “I haven’t,” Abby replied.

  The Southern Oracle looked surprised and more than a little relieved. “Good, for I stand firm in my decision. I must do what is best for my people.”