“It was unexpected, yes?” Claude said. “I did not think they would be so bold.”
“Me neither,” I said. “It’s scary.”
“And yet we continue to fight them off,” Samudra said. “With the Pattern adjusted to predict their incursions, no new cities have been destroyed. And our Neutralities’ defenses are more secure than ever.”
“I just don’t want to become complacent,” I said. “They changed tactics once, and they might do it again.”
“But Samudra’s point is sound. We should not fall into despair.” Claude scratched his large nose. “What do you know of this plan of Darius Wallach’s?”
I sat up, startled. “I didn’t think anyone knew about that. He said he wanted to keep it a secret until it was further developed.”
Claude laughed. “It is a great secret, so naturally everyone knows. In seriousness, the rumor is simply that he has a new weapon in development. Do you know more? I assume he has asked for an augury.”
“Several.” I fought a brief battle with myself and made a decision. “I don’t think I should say anything. He said it’s easier if he’s not dealing with a lot of questions in the early stages of a project. And if it turns out not to work, I think it’s better not to have raised people’s hopes. But I can confirm it will change the course of the war.”
“Disappointing, but I understand,” Claude said.
“So we will continue as we have been, fulfilling our responsibilities and staying alert to new dangers,” Samudra said. “I cannot speak much longer. The Sanctuary is busier than ever in these desperate times. The records show that never have there been more petitions brought to our doors than in the past week.”
“People come for a single prophecy, right?”
“We call it a revelation,” Samudra said. “We guide Wardens through a process of meditation and study, and those who successfully complete their journey are granted a vision of their future, clear and unambiguous. Not everyone is successful, and only one revelation is given to an individual in his or her lifetime, so in the normal course of things we receive very few aspirants. Now we are busy night and day.”
“I’ve seen an increase in mail-in auguries,” I said, “but a lot of them, the oracle won’t answer. Like, anything asking where the invaders will strike next. Either the oracle doesn’t want to waste people’s time on auguries that have to come the slow way through the mail, or it wants us to rely on our other resources.”
“The Athenaeum, too, has never been busier,” Claude said. “It is that people search for answers in every place they might be. It has drawn magery together.”
“Except it hasn’t, because of the stupid Nicollien and Ambrosite fight,” I said. “I wish they’d get over themselves already and see how they’re hurting themselves.”
“The Board’s decision to limit the times each faction can use a Neutrality has made our job difficult,” Samudra said. “I have already petitioned for an exemption. There is simply no practical way to divide access to the Sanctuary by the time of day.”
I felt more cheerful hearing this. “Maybe it will force the factions to get along. If they’re trying to achieve inner peace, I mean.”
“Possibly,” Samudra said, but he didn’t sound confident. “I fear the answer will simply be to partition the Sanctuary and confine each faction to a different area.”
My cheerfulness evaporated. “You’re probably right.”
Samudra nodded. “Let us stay in touch. If there are any more attacks on our Neutralities, we should notify one another.”
We set a time for another video call three days from now, and I disconnected. I leaned back in my chair and ran my fingers through my hair. For once, I wasn’t worried about invaders or my personal demons, but about the factions. There had to be some way to make them see sense.
I walked to where Malcolm sat watching the news. He wore a distant expression that told me he wasn’t seeing what was on the screen, which happened to be more footage of Barcelona. I sat and leaned against him, startling him out of his reverie. “Anything new?” I asked.
He shook his head. “More of the same. Frightened people using violence to hide the fact that they are frightened. But it seems the rioting is confined to only a few sections of the city, and police are already acting to contain it.”
“That’s good.”
Malcolm turned off the television and stood, bringing me to my feet. “I’m unexpectedly tired,” he said, “and I have a feeling tomorrow will be a busy day.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
He shook his head again. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have.”
“Then let’s cuddle.” I took his hand. “And I need to tell you what happened tonight.”
Despite Malcolm’s premonition, Friday was a quieter day than we’d seen all week. After lunch, I sat in the office at work and stared at my phone, which displayed my contacts list. Sydney had said to call if there was anything that couldn’t wait until the regular therapy visit. Having that flashback might count, but I’d talked about it with Malcolm, I wasn’t suppressing it, and maybe I was overreacting.
I set my phone down and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing, how the cool, citrus-scented air filled my lungs and then left my body. I let myself feel the pressure of the air on the skin of my arms and my face. I became gradually aware of how the cloth of my shirt rubbed gently against my collarbone, how my sandals pressed against my soles. The hum of the computer came to my attention, a low vibration I’d never noticed before. Once again I had the sensation of sinking gently into a pool of foam, all my senses alert to the world around me.
A pressure on the back of my neck told me the oracle was paying attention. The pressure spread across my body, not painful, more like a deep, caressing touch. I leaned into it, and the pressure increased. Everything surrounding me felt heightened, the smell of citrus richer, the hum of the computer louder. Are you doing this? I thought to the oracle, afraid to break my concentration by speaking. Are we in your space?
The oracle said nothing. Its attention filled me, made my bones hum. My breathing came more rapidly, and as I focused on slowing it down, I realized I was seeing things behind closed eyes. Not exactly the specks or waves of light I was used to; these were more like bright webs that uncurled and spread and curled again. They reminded me of jellyfish undulating through water, though without tentacles. I watched the moving webs, forgetting about controlling my breathing. They changed color as they moved, from red to purple to blue to green and then back again. The light show was so beautiful I again asked the oracle silently Are you doing this?
Again, there was silence from the oracle. I watched in rapt fascination, following a web until it slid out of sight, then watching another. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been doing this when the oracle said, Helena. Something comes.
For once, the oracle’s cryptic utterance didn’t annoy me. It was hard to feel annoyance, or any negative emotion, in my current state. When? I thought. Not my usual response, but at the moment, nothing bothered me.
The oracle didn’t respond at first. After a few seconds, it said, Not when. How. Seal the cracks.
I think that’s what Mr. Wallach has in mind. Sealing the cracks that let the invaders enter our world.
Three fall. Three remain. The anchor vanishes. Something comes.
The pressure of the oracle’s attention made me feel like a drum skin, stretched tight over my bones. The colored webs grew brighter and began flashing. I felt the oracle drift away and reached for it, desperate to maintain that overwhelming, beautiful connection. What anchor? Can I stop it vanishing?
They change. Adapt. I will end. Helena will end.
The webs of light whirled around my head, dizzying me. Then they vanished. I floated in blackness for a while, my mind numb, until my eyes fluttered open and I realized I’d fainted. My cheek was pressed against the smooth hardness of the melamine desk, and a trickle of drool leaked from the corner of my mouth. I sat up and
the world spun around me. Gripping the edge of the desk, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. My lungs ached as if I’d forgotten how.
I wiped my cheek and concentrated on breathing until my head didn’t feel so swollen. When I opened my eyes again, the room had settled down. Even so, I sat for a few minutes longer, just in case I was wobbly.
I was positive I hadn’t been within the oracle’s space. It had reached out to me from wherever it existed. And it was reasonable to assume it could do so because I’d managed to put myself in a receptive state by meditating. Whether I’d fainted because its presence had overwhelmed me, or I’d just forgotten to breathe, I didn’t know. But its communication hadn’t been any clearer than usual, which frustrated me now that that blissful moment was past. Maybe the oracle was too alien to ever express itself in a way I could understand.
My phone display had turned off while I was communing with the oracle. I turned it on again and hesitated with my finger over the number for the Gunther Node. I might still be overreacting, but if that laser shooter had been a real gun, an innocent person would be dead today. I stabbed the screen with unnecessary force and waited for the call to go through.
I’d anticipated having to wait a while, but they connected me with Sydney almost immediately. “Helena, are you all right?” she said.
“I don’t know. I had a sort of flashback last night. I thought I saw Mr. Santiago, and I shot him. Not really. It was laser tag. But I thought it was real.”
“I see. And how do you feel today?”
“Uncomfortable. Afraid of myself. It was so unexpected, I can’t help wondering when it will happen again.”
“Describe the setting. Where were you? You said, laser tag?”
I explained what the laser tag arena looked like, and how I’d mistaken the young man for Santiago. Sydney said, “It sounds like that environment enhanced your mind’s confusion over then and now. Would you have tried to shoot that young man if you’d met him on the street at noon?”
“I…don’t think so. He didn’t actually look anything like Mr. Santiago when I saw him clearly.”
“Your reaction is typical for someone who’s experienced a traumatic experience. You may have heard stories of soldiers with PTSD having flashbacks in response to a perfectly ordinary stimulus. A car backfiring, or a string of firecrackers going off. You were in a strange place with a gun in your hand and you saw your enemy, as you thought. You probably don’t have to worry about the same thing happening, as I said, on the street at noon.”
I breathed out in relief. “So I just have to pay attention to my surroundings?”
“More to the point, don’t play any games with pretend guns again.” Sydney chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you this might happen. My mistake.”
“It’s okay. It was frightening, but honestly, I feel more confident now. Like this is something I can control. Not like worrying I might hear a car backfire.”
“That’s true. Next time we meet, we’ll talk about possible triggers and what you can do to manage them. Is there anything else you need to talk about?”
“Not anything serious. I’m practicing meditation.” I didn’t mention the experience with the oracle. That was outside her area of expertise.
“Excellent. I’ll see you next week.”
I hung up and put my phone away. I did feel more confident. For the first time since killing Santiago, I felt at least some of my emotional reactions were under my control. No more laser tag.
I propped my elbows on the desk, rested my chin on my hands, and tried to recall what the oracle had told me before I fainted. It had said something about changing and adapting—no, it had said “they” change and adapt. If this was a warning, the oracle might have meant the invaders. That frightened me. The Wardens had found a way to counter their tactics, but that only made it more likely that the invaders would figure out some new way to attack.
I called Lucia and left a message: “The oracle says the invaders are going to adapt to our tactics. It didn’t say how, but I thought you should know.” Then I put my phone away again and stood. There was nothing more I could do except fill augury requests and hope Viv convinced Wallach to be sensible.
Viv showed up alone around 3:30, when the last of the Ambrosites had left. She wasn’t smiling. “I’m here for that scary augury,” she said. “I know I’m not allowed to study it unless Mr. Wallach gives me permission, but I’m hoping if he sees it lying around, he’ll give it to me just to get it out of his hair.”
“That’s perfectly acceptable,” I said. “It’s only $500. I think the oracle is tired of being ignored.” I handed her Something Wicked This Way Comes and accepted a handful of bills while Judy wrote out the receipt.
“He’s getting close to a practical solution.” Viv flipped through the pages, which I could see were clearly printed and not runny, which happened when an augury was illicitly gained. “At least, close to a test run. But Lucia is constantly in the lab, and I think he’s feeling pressured.”
“Lucia must be worried if she’s hovering,” Judy said.
“I told her today the oracle says the invaders are going to change their tactics,” I said. “At least, that’s how I understood it.”
“When did the oracle speak to you?” Judy asked, her eyes narrowing.
I described my encounter with the oracle. When I finished, Judy said, “And you passed out? That sounds dangerous.”
“I think I just forgot to breathe.”
“Um, yeah, that’s the dangerous part,” Viv said. “Especially since the oracle either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”
“It doesn’t really understand people.” I didn’t like Viv criticizing the oracle, not when I could remember how wonderful it had felt to commune with it. “It didn’t hurt me. That was all my fault.”
“Whatever,” Judy said. “You should be careful. The oracle may not want to hurt you, but if it sees you as its only way to communicate, it may put you in danger by accident.”
“I am careful,” I said irritably. “And I think the possibility of the invaders attacking successfully again is more important than my problems.”
“But there’s nothing we can do about that,” Viv said, “except hope Mr. Wallach has a solution soon.”
“I hate feeling helpless,” Judy said. She slapped the receipt book down on the counter.
“So do I,” I said, “which is why I don’t feel scared about speaking to the oracle. What if its warning is all we get the next time the invaders attack?”
Viv shuddered. “Don’t let’s think that way. I’m going to take this back to the node and hope Mr. Wallach sees sense.”
When she was gone, Judy said, “All the mail-in auguries have been processed. I’m going to run to the post office. Are there any other errands?”
“I don’t think so.” I sat on the metal stool behind the counter and put away the receipt book. “I hope someone comes in soon.”
“If you don’t want to be alone—”
“It’s not that. I can’t bear not being able to do something to help. I shouldn’t feel trapped by the store, but I do.”
“Promise me you won’t try that thing with the oracle unless there’s someone else here.” Judy looked as serious as I’d ever seen her, and it frightened me.
“I won’t. Promise.”
I watched her leave, then looked out the plate glass window at the warmly-lit street and the people passing by. Some of them wore paper face masks. Nobody seemed at all surprised by this. I realized I hadn’t heard what the CDC had reported at noon. I couldn’t imagine anyone believing those flimsy masks could protect anyone from a biological weapon.
It did make me wonder, though, what the mundane world thought was going on. Being drained of magic by an invader left signs of more ordinary illness, like heart attack or stroke. I didn’t know anything about medicine, so I couldn’t guess what bioweapon could cause those effects. Something traumatic, definitely.
I hopped down and headed
for the basement. When I had nothing else to do, I cleaned. It always made me feel better. It would take a hell of a lot of cleaning to fix the mood I was in.
16
I woke early the following morning and took a long, relaxing bath rather than try to fall back asleep. Malcolm was still dead to the world when I finally toweled off and dressed. His premonition had come true; he’d come home three hours later than usual and looked bone-weary when he did. “People are overreacting,” he’d said, “seeing invaders where there are none. Everyone at Campbell Security spent the day ward-stepping all over the world to investigate false alarms.”
Now I watched him for a minute, sprawled on his back with his mouth open in a peculiarly vulnerable position, considered snuggling up with him again, and decided he needed rest. Tomorrow would be soon enough for cuddling and maybe more.
Mike Conti was in the office with Judy when I arrived, startling me. It wasn’t like their relationship was a secret, but they were both so discreet I’d never seen him on the premises except in the front room, waiting for an augury. “I didn’t expect to see you,” I said. “Malcolm said everyone at Campbell Security had a rough day yesterday.”
“I’m actually headed in to work again,” Mike said. “Following up on a couple of calls from yesterday.” He turned back to face Judy, who was scowling as she scanned the computer screen. “I still say you’re not safe here.”
“I’m done having this discussion,” Judy said. “Helena, I left the mail-in auguries on the front counter. Mike, shouldn’t you be at work?”
Mike’s lips thinned in disapproval. “Fine. You want to be that way, I won’t argue with you. See you later, Helena.” He strode to the back door and slammed it shut behind him.
“I…sorry I barged in on that,” I said.
Judy blew out her breath and shoved away from the desk. “He won’t listen,” she said. “I’m getting sick of his overprotectiveness.”
“I understand, but you know that’s how he is. Not overprotective—I mean that he cares about what happens to you, and he shows that care by trying to protect you.”
The Book of Destiny Page 17