The Oracle Series: Volumes 1-3
Page 8
“Let me throw my bags down and grab the folders. I’ll be right there.” I pulled out my keycard from my back pocket as Elliot stopped at the door next to mine. He offered me a small salute then disappeared inside. As I opened my door, I found myself listening for the strange whispers I’d heard in my dreams. I was greeted by a glorious silence which was broken only by my happy sigh.
Today had been exactly what I’d needed. Aside from our little chat over dinner, we had managed to keep our conversation light. It was like the old times I cherished the most. I reached over to flip on the lamp sitting on the table by the door when a voice broke through the shadows.
“Have a nice time, Ms. McRayne?”
Cyrus. I figured he would be waiting on me. Yet why he was waiting in the dark was anyone’s guess.
“Damn it.” I threw my purse towards the sound of his voice. “Why are you so creepy?”
“Creepy?” My new companion flipped on the switch to the lamp for me. His handsome face was twisted into a smile of amusement. “I’ve been called many, many things over the centuries. I must admit, creepy isn’t one of them.”
“Yeah, well, it fits you.” I huffed as I crossed the room to throw my bags in the closet. “You scared me to death.”
“Hardly.” Cyrus leaned back against the entrance door as he watched me gather my folders and notes from the morning session. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yes. I have work to do.” I went to the door he was blocking and waited for him to move. When he didn’t, I gestured towards it with my folders. “Can you move, please? These things are really heavy.”
“No. You are correct on one matter, Ms. McRayne. You have an astronomical amount of work to do.” Cyrus pointed at the bundle in my hands. “But I’m afraid your little project is not on the itinerary. We need to start your training.”
“If I’m now immortal, then I have the rest of my existence for your training.” I shifted the weight of the folders to my arms. “Besides, we’ve been over this. You do not get to tell me what to do.”
“I am not telling you what to do, my dear.” Cyrus took the stack from my hands. “I am telling you what you need to do to survive. The first thing is how to control the spirits so you can only contact them through the original mirror. This will cut down on any threat your ghosthunting expeditions will cause.”
“You can do that?” I shook out the tingling in my arms. I wasn’t kidding when I said those folders were heavy. “I mean, I can choose when and where these visions will occur?”
“Yes.” Cyrus smiled. “But I will need your undivided attention. Tell your Elliot you will discuss the locations tomorrow. I will take a look at them myself and aid you in choosing the safest one for you.”
I started to really tell this strange man to go to hell, but the words died in my throat. I knew I couldn’t live my life the way I had today; avoiding every mirror or reflective surface. I needed to know how to control myself if I were ever to function in society again. I picked up the phone.
I was right. Elliot wasn’t happy when I cancelled on him. I begged exhaustion, promising him we would catch everything up the next morning.
“There. My plans are officially cancelled. Are you happy now?” I flopped down on the edge of my bed as I disconnected the call. “You know, for someone who is supposed to only act like a shadow, you are killing my social life.”
“What is this social life you speak of?” Cyrus teased as he pulled a chair up to sit across from me. “I’m assuming it is something important.”
I scoffed, thinking of how to respond before noticing he had the hateful mirror in his hands. My direction of thought changed immediately as the whispers began to fill the silence around me. “What are you doing with that?”
“We are going to begin your training.” Cyrus had the mirror face down, and I could see the intricate carvings on the back of it. For the first time I noticed the lines formed the face of a woman. She was screaming.
“You must realize, Ms. McRayne, the veil works much like a door. It can be opened and closed very easily.” Cyrus wrapped my hand around the mirror’s handle. “I want you to envision a mirror that is trapped behind a door. Imagine yourself being able to close this door at your whim. Many Sibyls before you added a lock to it for which only they had the key.”
“I’m going to imagine a door.” I spoke the words as if I were talking to a toddler. “That’s it? Your extensive training, which you have been nagging me about for two days now, is to imagine a damn door?”
“No, this is not all. But this is the most important. You must realize the power your mind has over the supernatural. You – and you alone – must be able to use this power to block them out.” Cyrus held up his hand to hush me as I started to speak. I closed my mouth as he continued. “Yet just as a door can be closed and locked, so too can you open it. When you are ready, you can call forth spirits from the veil.”
“So if I close my eyes and wish for all of this to go away, will that work too?” I leaned forward. “After all, if I can create the doorway, then I should be able to stop this all together.”
“I am afraid it is not that simple.” Cyrus leaned back in his chair to create more distance between us. “Now do as I say. Close your eyes. Create your doorway.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh as I closed my eyes.
“Now focus.”
“I’m focusing.” I grumbled. It wasn’t long before a door appeared in my mind. Unfortunately, it wasn’t some grand entrance only seen on the Charleston houses I grew up around. The only door I could conjure up was the little wooden one from my studio apartment back in Georgia. I used this image as a base, adding not just a lock as Cyrus suggested. I added iron bars. I wrapped chains around it. By the time I was finished, my gateway to the afterlife could have protected the treasures at Fort Knox.
“You must be pleased.” Cyrus spoke and I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. “Then look into the mirror. Apply your door to it.”
I flipped the mirror over, confident enough in my own imagination to know this could work. I opened my eyes to see my reflection shimmering in the glass. I gasped as the face of the woman appeared once more. She smiled. I didn’t.
“Hurry, Ms. McRayne.” Cyrus’ words were filled with caution. “Apply the door.”
I returned my focus to the woman in the mirror as the whispers grew louder. This time, I didn’t back away. I imagined my door slamming shut in the woman’s face before me. I laughed out loud as the whispers ceased. I hurried to apply the iron bars and chains as I had done in my mind.
“It worked!” I laughed again as I looked into the mirror. The door was still there, but it was fading. Within moments, it was soon replaced by my own reflection. “Cyrus, it really worked!”
“Yes.” The man nodded. “This has proven to be a very successful method for your predecessors.”
“What else?” I stood and starting pacing the room. “Should I go and do this with every mirror?”
“Yes. Practice this until your mind begins to subconsciously project the image you created on every reflective surface.”
“I have to go tell Elliot.” I crossed over to the door leading out into the hallway. “He is going to be so relieved.”
“Not so soon, Ms. McRayne.” Cyrus pressed the mirror back into my hands after I had put it down on the bed. “Keep this mirror with you at all times. Make sure this is the only one you use when making contact.”
“Why?” I was confused. “If the door works, and I can shut it at will, why keep things contained to just one mirror?”
“Size.” Cyrus shook his head. “If a mirror is large, it becomes a portal large enough for the dead to cross into this realm. When you open the door, you are inviting them to pass through.”
“And they can’t fit through this?” I waved the mirror like a flag. “I thought ghosts were wisps. Shadows. They would be able to fit through a keyhole.”
“Many prefer to remain as they were in life, but their size can be adjuste
d as needed.” Cyrus stared at me, until I looked away. “So lesson two is simply this: keep this mirror on you at all times. Understand?”
“Yeah, okay.” I didn’t feel the need to tell him I would probably lose the mirror before the week was out. I had a tendency to leave things behind. “I’ll do my best to remember.”
Cyrus passed by me to stand by the small desk in my room. “Also, you need to learn about the god you now serve. You must study the written works about our history.”
I hadn’t noticed the pile of books he had placed on my desk when I had first come into the room, but I noticed them now. There were volumes thicker than my textbooks from UGA. I walked over to them, reaching out to take the first one off the top. Of course, it was a book about crossing over to the other side. The one beneath it? A study on the role death has played in Greek mythology.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I stared at the pile then at the man beside me. “I am not going to read all of these. I don’t have the time.”
“Ms. McRayne, you are an immortal.” Cyrus rewarded my exasperation with a half smile. “You have nothing but time.”
“Tell me more about the immortal part.” I tossed the book down and leaned against the desk. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means exactly what you think it means.” Cyrus stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked down on me. “You won’t die as long as you are the Sibyl. Your body is now Apollo’s vessel. You are considered valuable to him.”
“How so?” I tilted my head to the side. “If I am not supposed to use my ability to talk to the dead in public, how does it benefit Apollo?”
“I never said you couldn’t use your abilities in public. I simply suggested that you not go out and willingly seek opportunities to put yourself in danger. Ms. Carter would hold séances for her clients and speak at conferences. She used small venues to bring followers to our god.”
“Perhaps I could try to make contact on the show.” I spoke more to myself than to my protector. “This could be just what we need.”
“My apologies, Ms. McRayne.” Cyrus was glowering again. “I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”
“It’s nothing.” I waved his questions away. “Look, I’m really tired. Can we call it a night?”
“You are starting to look pale. Perhaps it is best if we say our goodbyes.” Cyrus grabbed the folders I had forgotten about. “I’ll take a look at these and let you know tomorrow morning which will be best.”
“Alright.” I was only half listening, half paying attention as he left. My mind was racing as I thumbed through the pile of books Cyrus had left behind. Connor and Elliot both insisted we have a gimmick to attract viewers to the show. Could I use this whole Sibyl thing as a gimmick? Could Kathy Carter have given me the one thing needed to make sure Elliot was a success?
I needed to know more about the spirit world. I needed to know the best ways to protect myself and Elliot. If I was going to be cursed, then I would be damned if I didn’t use this newfound power to speak with the dead to my advantage.
No. I would use it to our advantage. I would make sure that Elliot’s show was a success, one way or the other. I plopped down in the desk chair with a new determination. I would learn everything I could about the veil and the myths. If the Sibyls were meant to pull in followers to Apollo, then I would be the best at what I could do.
I started with the thickest book in the lot, skimming over most of the text. Especially when I came to the part about how the Sibyl was created. Since the story was a repeat of what Cyrus had already told me, I skipped it. I skipped over a lot of the text to be honest. I was tired and my eyes were having a hard time focusing. So much so that I almost missed the very section I had been looking for. It jumped out at me in the gray mass the sentences had become.
“Contacting the Golden One.” I murmured the words out loud, using my finger to underline each sentence as I read. Apparently, the keeper had direct communication with the god at all times in the event something catastrophic happened to the Sibyl. The keeper could request aid and keep Apollo informed on the activities of the Sibyl. There were brief prayers the Sibyl could chant in order to get Apollo’s attention, but I wasn’t sure if such small tokens would be enough. I needed his blessing to make sure Elliot’s show was going to be a hit in the midst of all the other paranormal gurus out there.
I pushed the book aside and stood, searching the room. After all, I had been raised in South Carolina. We had our fair share of mystics who told fortunes and cast spells for a living. I remembered something my grandmother had taught me one summer on Sullivan’s Island. She had used candles to make her wishes come true.
Here’s hoping I could utilize her tricks now to contact an ancient god I wasn’t convinced existed.
I found what I was looking for in the back of the television cabinet. The candle was white and stubby, but it would have to do. I snagged it along with a hotel matchbook and returned to the desk. Once I had cleared off enough room, I set the candle up on top of the golden mirror Cyrus had left behind and lit it.
“Apollo, keeper of the Sun, creator of the Sibyls, aid me in my quest.”
I sat down in front of the candle, wondering if I should fold my hands like I used to do in Sunday School. I figured it didn’t matter, so I interlocked my fingers together as I closed my eyes.
“I know nothing about your powers, and only little more about being your Sibyl. Golden One, grant me the strength to survive this life as your servant. Allow Elliot’s show to be a success. In return, I promise you the attention you seek. Television is a voice heard throughout the world. Its images speak to millions of people. Let me do this for you. If I am to be your Sibyl, grant me my wish. Let our project be a success.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on everything which had led up to that very moment. Elliot’s first proposal of this ridiculous show, Kathy Carter thrusting the mirror in my hands; even the horrible spirits I had encountered so far. I saw myself being able to protect myself from them.
I opened my eyes to see the flames glowing brighter. The mirror itself shimmered, but no spirits were coming through. I began to wonder if Apollo had heard me or if I were a fool asking for help from the shadows surrounding me. If everything I had experienced had been nothing more than tricks of the light. Perhaps Elliot was right. Perhaps I did need to see a doctor when we got home.
I sniffed out the candle as quickly as I could. There was no doctor who could help me. I wasn’t a fool. I believed in what could be proven through science. But I also believed in myself and what I had seen.
I couldn’t afford not to.
a
I must have fallen asleep over the books on the desk because the next thing I knew, I felt myself being lifted up from my chair. Cyrus’ whisper woke me up more than his disruption of picking me up.
“Spellwork, Little One? I didn’t think you had it in you. Now hush. Let the dead rest when you do.”
“What?” I muttered, suddenly all too awake. My keeper was holding me close to his chest with my ear pressed against his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“You are talking to them.” Cyrus laid me down on the bed and I sunk down with a sigh. “A habit I am sure you will control in time.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep.” I was going to say more. Refute him. But he simply smiled as he pulled the blankets over me. I felt like a kid being put to bed; safe and warm. Suddenly I was surprised at how much I wanted him to stay. As he nodded his farewell, I reached out to him.
“Stay. Tell me a story.”
“A story?” Cyrus froze in mid-bow. “Haven’t I told you enough for one night?”
He was joking with me. I could see his half smile in the faint light from the hotel’s window. I nodded, snuggling down further into my pillow with a yawn.
“Yes. Tell me more about you. If you are going to be by my side indefinitely, I may as well know who you are.”
“Indeed.” Cyrus pulled up the chair next to my b
ed and collapsed his long frame into it. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything. I don’t care.” I was getting sleepy again and I was fighting against it. “How did you come into this life of yours?’
“I was a soldier, Ms. McRayne.” Cyrus leaned forward, linking his fingers together in front of him. “A man married to the service of Greece. I lived, no, I breathed the very battles which killed many of my comrades.”
He paused as if deciding what he should say next. “I was meant to serve Artemis, goddess of war. I did, for a time. I wore her charms beneath my breastplate. My men chanted her name with every victory, and begged to her for forgiveness if we failed.”
“What changed?” I yawned, harder this time. “I thought the Sibyls were Apollo’s creation.”
“They are.” Cyrus smiled again. “I see you took my words to heart. You truly were reading the books I gave you. Did you learn anything useful?”
“Yeah, and you are changing the subject.” I opened one eye to examine his shadow as the light from the window faded. “Go on.”
“I told you of the hunter who doomed the first Sibyl of Cumae?
I nodded.
“That man wasn’t a hunter. He was me.” Cyrus shook his head. “I was taking a short cut to the camp we had set up outside of town when I heard a woman scream. She was begging not to be harmed. When I came to the tree’s edge, I saw them. Apollo is a master at taking the human form. This is how he appeared to me. I unsheathed my sword, yelling for him to release the poor girl at once or face the wrath of my blade.”
“What happened? Did you have to fight a god?” I leaned up on a single elbow. “What was it like?”
He shifted in the chair as if uncomfortable, but he continued. “Short. Apollo released the girl and turned on me as a lion would his prey. Before I could close half the distance between us, he fired a single arrow from his bow.”
“Where you hurt?” I forgot all about my sleepiness as I listened. Cyrus was a master storyteller. “What happened to the girl?”
“Hurt?” Cyrus gestured to the scar which crossed over his face “I died, Little One, after taking an arrow through my eye. My soul had disconnected itself from my body. I was fading into the Underworld when he brought me back.”