by Jasmine Walt
Tess nods toward a large wooden wheel in the corner. Slowly, she tilts it to the side, revealing a small tunnel, but my attention drifts back toward the door. I shuffle close enough to peer through a crack in the wood.
“We know they’re here,” bellows the same deep voice. It’s more of a growl. I can see the back of his bulky shoulders and, on the other side of him, pressed against the wall by her neck, is Madelina. “You know what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”
“They left hours ago,” she chokes out. “We didn’t know you were looking for them or we would have called.”
John stands a few feet away, his path blocked by Adrian and another Cruor—a large albino man—who stand in the corner by a large crate barrel. “Leave her alone! She ain’t done nothin’ wrong here!”
The albino Cruor alongside Adrian holds John back in the least committed way. There’s fear in Adrian’s eyes...but fear of what? It’s us who should be—and are—afraid of them.
Tess tugs my dress, and when I look back, she nods again toward the passage. I shake my head. I’m trembling and sweat is dripping down my spine and I can hardly breathe, but fear can’t rule my next move, and we can’t leave. Not like this.
I peer through the crack again. The large man turns away from Madelina and sweeps everything from the dining room table, bowls cracking and flour exploding like a dust storm in the room. He opens cabinet after cabinet in the small kitchen, pulling out anything he finds and sticking his head in as though at any moment he will find us there instead of a bag of rice or an iron pan.
Adrian raises his eyebrows at Madelina and gently grasps her hand, but she shudders.
“Please, Miss,” he says. “No need for any harm to come to you. We are not after your comrades, after all, just the woman they have with them. Tell us what we need to know so we can be on our way. I can assure you that, if they cooperate with us, they will not be harmed.”
Madelina shakes her head. The large man is out of sight now, but the slam of cabinets is getting closer. It won’t be long before he reaches the pantry.
Two more Cruor stomp into the room. The larger of the two—a dark-eyed man with tanned skin—holds a girl in his grasp, and his smaller counterpart, the one with the weasel-nose and drawn in cheeks, holds a young boy. Tears streak the faces of the children. They’re shaking. Unceremoniously, the dark-eyed Cruor stabs the boy in the chest, then drops him to the ground. My nails dig into my palms and tears pinch in my throat. The beast then points the knife at the girl, who is now kicking and screaming. Madelina’s cries screech over the noise.
She was a mother. Whatever she said, whether she birthed that child or not, she was every bit the mother, because that was the scream of a mother’s heart breaking.
I can’t sit here any longer. I look back at William, shaking my head. Fighting for these people is fighting for Anna; turning my back on them is turning my back on her. I have to do something.
I grab Tess’ sword and bolt for the door. I charge through on hands and knees, breaking through the shelf that blocks the top half of the door. As I climb to my feet, I nearly trip over the contents that have fallen to the floor, but I keep moving, arcing the sword around me to decapitate the auburn-haired Cruor who was checking the cabinets.
The Cruor that killed the boy and the Cruor still holding the girl step toward us. They release the girl, and she runs out of the room and up the stairs. I wish I could go to her, but I can’t right now. No one can. Today, she is forced to grow up faster than any child ever should, and my heart aches with the pain of understanding exactly what that feels like.
I wrap my grip tighter around the handle of the sword. I feel Tess and William standing behind me now. I glance over to Adrian, narrowing my eyes. How could he come here after helping Tess escape—does he want to help her or not? Adrian’s comrade, a tall young man with teal eyes, dark lashes, and tangled hair, stares at me with a strange intensity. He’s hiding something. I know, the way I have always known. But it’s not us he is hiding something from.
The other two Cruor charge at us, but since Adrian and his comrade do not join them, we have them outnumbered. Madelina breaks away from Adrian, and Tess tosses her a stake. The albino Cruor stops blocking John to go after her, but as he tackles her, she drives the stake into his chest, obliterating him. John’s form trembles, and the house shakes. Before I know it, there’s a large wolf in the room and several more Cruor.
“Come on, Charles!” yells a tall, sinewy, golden-haired Cruor as he tosses a sword to Adrian’s comrade in the corner of the room. “Don’t just stand there!”
Charles tenses his jaw and nods, but he holds the sword in front of him as though unsure what do with it. After a moment, his body begins to tremble also, and I see his face twist into something animalistic. I would swear I’d seen fangs on him not moments before, but he must be Strigoi. But he’s not marked . . .
“There’s a dual breed in there!” someone shouts from the other room, but by time they reach us, the young man looks normal again.
John, in his wolf form, takes an aggressive stance against the tanned Cruor and weasel-nosed Cruor that killed the boy and tormented the little girl, but they don’t back down. The two monsters have John and Madelina backed up against a wall.
“Which one is it?” asks a dark-haired, husky-voiced Cruor that has just joined us in the room. The Cruor coming in the room behind him points his bony finger over his shoulder—points right at Adrian and his comrade.
John tears into the tanned Cruor, and the flesh he rips from its calf smokes and turns to ash. Madelina stakes weasel-nose, and William and Tess take on the new Cruor filing into the room. Of the newcomers, a man with a large, veiny scar along his jaw that demands all the attention on his face, squares off with me.
I need to focus on this beast, but even as he kicks me in the stomach and sends me flying back into the wall, I’m staring at Adrian and the young man he’s brought with him. Beyond the blur of my vision, I see one of the Maltorim guards hold a sword to Adrian’s neck.
“Abomination,” the Cruor grunts.
I should be terrified or shocked, but instead I’m stuck somewhere between compassion and indifference. It hurts to have someone on your side turn against you, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of such treatment as Adrian.
The Cruor coming after me lifts me from the ground by my neck, but I press my shoulders back against the wall and kick him as hard as I can in the chest, knocking him off of me. I jump to my feet and decapitate him as well, but instead of watching the light fade from his eyes, my attention is back on what will become of Adrian.
Sweat trickles down his temple, and he shakes his head. “It’s not me.”
Charles steps forward, his face transforming right before everyone’s eyes.
“Wrong guy,” he growls, slaying the Cruor.
He lifts the crate barrel from behind him and throws it across the room, setting back the remaining Maltorim guards while he reaches his hand down to Adrian and helps him to his feet. Adrian swallows, and for a moment, they stare at each other.
Charles tenses his jaw. “We’re in this together. Right?”
Adrian nods and draws his own sword, and the two turn to face the rest of the room.
Someone wraps their arm around my neck from behind me, cutting off my oxygen. Instinctively, my hand rushes to grab their arm and try to pull it off, but they’re too strong. So badly I want to suck in a breath of air, but I can’t. My face and ears are aching with the pressure.
I grip my sword the best I can and stab it into my attacker’s foot. It’s just enough to loosen his grip, and I drop my sword and shoot my arms up between his forearm and my neck to break away.
I immediately kneel to the ground to recoup my sword, but another Cruor kicks it away.
Then, to my surprise, Adrian decapitates the man. His comrade takes out two more. William and Tess have already cut down several of our attackers, and now there are none left standing. John is lying on
the ground, still in wolf form, and one of his hind legs is bleeding. Madelina kneels beside him and crumbles on top of him in a heap, crying against his fur.
I’m too stunned to move.
William moves to my side, and Tess jumps in front of us, a small knife pointed at Adrian. “You’ll have to kill me to get to them.”
Adrian gives an almost unnoticeable shake of his head. “I do not intend to harm you, Thessaly.”
She shifts her weight and tightens her grip on her knife’s handle.
Adrian places his own sword on the ground, and turns his back to her to face his warrior friend. “You’re a dual breed, then.”
Charles crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his chin up. “Yes.”
“You could have let them kill me,” Adrian says. “They wouldn’t have known any better.”
“But I would have.”
Adrian nods slowly. “This forces me to reconsider my alliances.”
“For what is right, I would hope,” Charles says.
Adrian nods once more, then turns to Tess. “I didn’t know, Thessaly. They promised me you wouldn’t get hurt. Please, forgive me.”
For a long moment, she stares at him blankly, then she tosses her knife at his feet, takes her sword back from me, wipes the blood on the skirt of her dress, and returns it to her hilt.
“Take care of these fine people,” she says, and she walks out the front door.
William and I follow. The windows of the surrounding cabins are empty, but I know the houses are not. Our enemy is gone for now, but not gone for good, and the sacrifices made tonight never should have been made.
William grabs Tess by the arm, spinning her toward him. “What was that, Tess? An act of mercy? You’re going to let him walk away? What ever happened to bringing these people to justice?”
Tess’ face pinches in, and she yanks her arm away from him. “He let us walk out, didn’t he?”
William scowls, his hand dropping to his side. “I can’t believe you.”
Tess grabs her sword and shoves the handle to his chest. “Fine. Kill him, if you want him dead so badly.”
“No.” He grabs the hilt of the sword and pushes it back toward her. “You need to do it. You need to, Tess.”
I step beside them, lowering William’s hand until the tip of the sword’s blade presses into the dirt. “I don’t like him, but I have to agree with Tess. He helped us, didn’t he?”
William rolls back on his heels and scoffs. “After nearly killing us!” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If he comes near us again—”
I grasp his other hand, and his words fall dead on the air. Upon looking at me, his expression softens, and he lets out a sigh.
“Now what?” I ask, staring out into the dark night of the trembling village.
“Now,” William says, wrapping his hand tightly around mine, “we go to the Oracle.”
27
Somewhere Unknown, April 1692
What can we expect from the Oracle?
I imagine an old woman with a scarf tied to her head and a crystal ball because, from what I understand, she sounds a bit like a psychic. I don’t have time to ask many questions. There is no other way to see the Oracle but to use our traveling abilities, and no time to wait before we set out to do so. It’s a blink, a fall through the black, and we’re where we need to be. I have no idea where that is...but I guess that’s the point.
I brace myself against one of the stone walls to stop my feet from sliding on the wet slate beneath us. Thick tree roots have broken through the rock, and the muted whistle of wind in the trees outside echoes softly through the cave’s entrance, the cold breeze spitting dead leaves at our shins and ankles.
William squeezes my hand. “Are you ready?”
“How did you get here without knowing where it was?”
“We don’t just have the ability to travel to places. Some of us—like Tess—can travel to people, too. But no one can travel to the Oracle who hasn’t seen her before.”
I purse my lips. “Then how do you travel to her the first time?”
“Either she calls for you or someone who has met with her before brings you to her. Tess and I were called here when she was to come under my guidance.”
“Wait—what?”
Tess is a few feet ahead of us already, standing where the last rays of moonlight reach as they filter in from the entrance. She nods toward the darkness that is deeper within the cave. “This way.”
“The Oracle brought us together,” William whispers. He starts to walk, but I’m glued to where I stand. He stares back at me. “Come on, Cord.”
I shake my head. “I can’t see.”
He chuckles. “It’s fine. Unless you’re scared of the dark?”
I tug my hand out of his. “I’m not scared. I just thought we—the Ankou—could always see, even in the dark.”
“Ah,” he says, nodding. “Not so here. The Oracle’s magic disables many abilities of visiting elementals. Cruor’s fangs cannot descend, not that they are welcome here often. Ankou do not have the power of sight nor can they move spirits here. Strigoi cannot shift and do not have their usual strength. None of us have our usual speed.”
“And other Chibold?” I ask.
“Other Chibold cannot come here. What point would there be? They can communicate with the Universe for themselves.”
“What about the Oracle?” I ask. “She’s a Chibold, too, but they cannot live without a host family, isn’t that right?”
William nods. “That’s true of the Chibold, but...she’s the Oracle. She was the first. She’s different.”
“I see...” I sigh deeply and shuffle behind him as we continue deeper into the cave. “How do Cruor and Strigoi come here, since the Oracle does not allow visitors to travel to her on foot.”
“They need an Ankou guide,” he says. “Like me. Everything for a reason. These checks and balances. Trust me, the politics of this world are not what you need to concern yourself with.”
The chill that has hung in the air between us for the last few days dissipates. Things feel comfortable again.
Tess cups her hands around her mouth. “Stop babying her. We need to move.”
William grins at me and raises his eyebrows in a way that’s almost flirty. He is without a doubt the most beautiful man I’ve ever known, even in the darkness where I can barely see him. There’s some kind of perfect within this man, between us together.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
My heart is flying. Absolutely. In this moment, I trust him with every fiber of my being—trust him to take everything I have and fix all my broken parts and make me whole again. I trust him with my life, and I trust him with my soul.
I’ve either lost my mind or I’ve gained heart, but if I’ve gained heart, how long before it’s broken?
Surely if anyone knew how I felt right now, they would tell me to stop. That there is no room in this world for such feelings, that nothing good can come of it. That, as right as it feels, it’s utterly wrong. And yet, for once, I don’t care. Feelings don’t have to make sense; you either accept them or you don’t, and it’s a personal thing. And personally, I’m ready for these feelings, and I’m ready to fight—for this world and for my life and for my heart.
“Do you trust me?” he asks once more.
I nod, unable to put a voice to my thoughts.
“Then let’s go,” he says, taking my hand.
And with that, he leads me into the dark.
“Stay close to the wall,” Tess orders.
William walks in front of me, but he’s reaching behind him to hold my hand as we trek deeper into the dark. Crumbling rock crunches beneath our footsteps, rattles over the ground when kicked away, and splashes through puddles. Water soaks through my thin leather boots and chills my feet. I shiver.
“Shame we couldn’t have landed just a little closer to the Oracle,” I say, half-joking.
I can nearly hear Tess roll her
eyes, or maybe I can just hear that eye-rolling tone in her voice: “You think she wants someone plunking themselves into her existence just like that? Have a little respect.”
I bite my lip. Tess is colder toward me than ever before. Does she blame me for what happened with Adrian? She doesn’t seem to be taking it out on William at all . . .
The stagnant air feels thick in my lungs, and my hand brushes over sticky, itchy spider webs. I startle, jumping back and nearly lose my balance, my foot slipping down a steep incline that scrapes my thigh.
William yanks my hand, pulling me hard and fast against his body, and I gasp. He presses me against the wall, the fist of a stone poking in my back a welcome relief from my near tumble to my death.
“Jesus, Cord,” he breathes.
My heart pounds, and I can’t stop shaking. I cling to William’s shirt, my other hand still grasping his tightly. My lips brush his sweaty shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes tight, wishing we were anywhere but here.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“You all right?” he asks, steadying me at arm’s length.
“Yes...I’m—I’m okay.” I wish I could see his face right now, take comfort in those dark eyes of his.
“Don’t scare me like that.”
Tess clears her throat. “She’s fine. Let’s go; we’re almost there.”
After a few more yards, light glows from a cavern ahead. The rush of moving water grows louder, until it’s nearly a roar. Finally, our thin trail widens and deposits us beside the dancing light of flames from the wall sconces. A large river scores the ground of the cavern and rushes over the edge to our right.
I look down. I can’t see where the fall ends. I don’t want to think what would have happened if William hadn’t caught me. If the Oracle is as harsh as the road to meet her, I am not sure I am prepared for this. What if she doesn’t like me?
The fires on the wall sconces die down until diminishing completely, but the room fills with a cold light that seems to come from nowhere, as though the crystal clear water of the river reflects not only everything in the room, but even the memory of light itself.