Prophecy (The Destiny Series Book 4)

by Christine Grey

  He stopped speaking abruptly when the little lizard began to make rasping, hissing noises, followed by a sound that was like a swallowed chirp. Logan nodded excitedly.

  “He has seen her! She is…she is…”

  “What? What does it say?” Brint hurried forward. The lizard backed up, as if ready to flee.

  “Stop it! You are frightening him. Give him time—he is trying to explain; I am just not sure I understand.”

  It sat still for a moment, eyeing Brint with obvious distrust, and then started closer to Logan again. There was a flurry of noises, accompanied by a great deal of head bobbing.

  Logan stood upright again and said, “Show me.”

  It disappeared into the undergrowth. Logan trailed closely behind it, leaving Brint and Tabitha with no choice but to follow.

  “What did it say?” Brint yelled.

  “What he said does not make sense. Let’s just follow and see.”

  They wended their way through the forest, sometimes backtracking unexpectedly before making their way further along. It was starting to get dark, and Logan paused now and again when he lost sight of the animal, but then a chirping noise would float back to them, and on they would go.

  Brint was starting to question if they were being led completely astray, but then, up ahead, he saw a faint glow. It was a house, made of wood, much like the Mirin Tor built. It was constructed of the glowing wood of the solas oir trees, which was strange, for a couple of reasons. One, there had been very few of the solas oir in the last couple days, so where someone would get enough to build a whole house was an interesting question, although, Brint supposed they could have been dragged this far. The other oddity was that the house looked newly built. The wood had the appearance of having recently been cut, and as they neared, Brint could even see where it still oozed pitch in spots. Meanwhile, all around it, the forest, grass, flowers, and vines looked as though they had been there, undisturbed, for time beyond measure. Near the door, a wild rose bloomed, but its branches grew into the wood of the house, and then emerged, untroubled, through another board, still blooming.

  Logan slowed and held up his hand to stop Brint and Tabitha from continuing. The door opened, and the lizard darted inside.

  A pleasant voice drifted out to them. “Supper is on the table. Come in, come in. It’s time to eat.”

  They looked at one another, unsure of how to proceed.

  The voice spoke again, this time more quietly, but they heard it clearly, just the same. “Not very trusting, are they?”

  “No, but you have to forgive them. They don’t know you, after all,” Holly said.

  “Holly!” Brint rushed forward, only to have Logan stop him. “Get your hand off me or I’ll remove it for you,” Brint growled.

  Holly appeared in the doorway.

  “It’s okay, Logan. We’re among friends.”

  Chapter 17

  They sat around the table eating stew and fresh bread from bowls that looked no less new than the house they sat in. There were two roasted rabbits on the table which Logan refused to even look at. Brint took a perverse sort of delight in tearing off great steaming hunks of meat and popping them in his mouth, making smacking noises of appreciation all the while. At least, he did, until Tabitha stomped on his foot. Sometimes, he thought, his sister had no sense of humor at all.

  Their host neither ate nor drank, but sat with his hands steepled under his chin as he watched them with keen interest.

  Holly’s hands had been treated and wrapped. It pained Brint to look at them. No sooner had the one healed than she'd gone ahead and injured them both. She fumbled with her cup, refusing any help. There was a cool tension to her. She'd smile at Brint occasionally, but she didn’t talk much, and she wouldn’t make eye contact with Tabby or Logan. While they'd looked for her, they'd all made a pretty good guess as to what had caused her to flee in the first place. He was sorry she had been hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad that she knew that Logan was not for her. Of course, that didn’t do anything to make her look his way, but he was patient. Cyrus knew he was patient.

  When the last of the food had disappeared, the man stood to begin clearing the table, but Tabitha was already on her feet, insisting she be the one to clean up.

  “Thank you, child,” he said. “Just stack the dishes on the counter. We can see to them later. For now, I think we should talk.”

  Logan rose to assist Tabby, and Brint scowled at him, but could think of no reason he shouldn’t help. He saw Logan’s thumb caress the back of Tabby’s hand when he relieved her of a large platter, and he had to bite his tongue to hold back the words he wanted to say. He figured he'd already upset his sister enough for one day, and pointing out the caress would probably hurt Holly, so he held his peace.

  “Now that we're all adequately fed, let's get down to business. You have a bit of a problem, and I can see that you’re quite off course. That'll never do. We mustn’t have that.”

  “Sir, I intend no disrespect,” Logan said. “I mean, you helped Holly, and you have been nothing but courteous to us, and we thank you, but—”

  “But you have a few questions,” he said, raising his eyebrows, which were just as blue as his hair. “Such as, why do I speak with contractions, why am I out in the middle of the woods all by myself, why have you never heard of me, and how do I know about your quest? Am I correct?”

  “That is about right, except that I would add, how do you know what we are thinking, and what’s your name?”

  “Very good questions, every one. Alas, I cannot answer most of them. Well, that’s not true. I can do almost anything I choose. More accurately, I will not answer most of them, but life is full of mysteries. I daresay, you will live through the disappointment.”

  “Forgive me,” Brint said, “but that isn’t a very satisfying response.”

  “I know,” he said with an air of sympathy. Then his expression changed and turned mischievous as he added, “Annoying, isn’t it?”

  Tabby snorted a laugh and clapped her hand over her mouth. Brint thought that she enjoyed seeing him frustrated.

  “Now, young Darach Croi, do not let yourself become upset—it's terrible for the digestion, you know. Let me answer what I can. I think the place to begin is with my name. Alas, that's one of the most difficult questions to answer. Still, I cannot have you making something up, or I may end up being Mortimer or Eustice or some other equally hideous moniker. You may call me Gabriel, as I've always liked the name. Besides, I know a Gabriel, and it will give him no end of displeasure to know I have pilfered his name for my amusement, which, of course, makes it even sweeter. He’s a bit full of himself, you see. Some people think they’re musically gifted, when what they really are is full of hot air, and all that air has to go someplace, I suppose, but…wait, where was I?”

  “Gabriel?” Holly offered.

  “Ah, yes. Please, call me Gabriel.”

  At this, he looked upwards toward the ceiling and stuck out his tongue, which, to Brint’s shock, was just as blue as his hair.

  “All right, Gabriel,” Brint said, trying to get the man’s attention. “If you can’t tell us much, what can you tell us?”

  “Many, many things!” he said with enthusiasm. “But most of them wouldn’t be helpful to you, unless…how do you feel about mapleberry jam? I know a marvelous recipe!”

  Now even Brint was forced to chuckle. He was certainly one of a kind, this one. “I think we can save the recipes for another time. Let’s return to the useful bits.”

  “As you wish. Too bad, though. It's my very favorite jam, but back to the issue at hand. You've been sent to locate a prophecy, which, it just so happens, I know the location of. I shall give you instructions on how to get there.”

  Brint peered at Gabriel. He didn’t like this. They'd just met this man, and he seemed to know an awful lot about what they were up to, when there was no way he could know. It seemed very chancy to put their fate in the hands of a complete stranger. He co
uld be sending them anywhere, for all they knew. It was true he'd been kind, but what did that mean? It might still all be a trick of some kind. In fact, it probably was. Maybe they should humor him, get as far away from him as possible, and continue on their own path.

  “Are you done?” Gabriel asked patiently. “You really are some of the most distrustful people I've ever encountered, and that’s saying something. You should know that, had I wished you harm, I could've done away with you any time I chose.”

  “Hardly,” Brint said. “There are four of us and only one of you. We do have means of protecting ourselves.”

  “Please,” Gabriel sighed. “Do not embarrass yourself. Do you mean the sword you carry?” He held up a hand, and Brint’s sword flew from his side into Gabriel’s firm grip. He spun it as if it were a toy before planting it into the floor at his feet.

  Logan jumped up to put himself between Gabriel and Tabby. An orb of flame was spinning between his palms, but Gabriel only laughed and held his hands out to the fire, which leaped almost eagerly toward him. He tossed the flames back and forth from hand to hand as if they were a ball, and then breathed a puff of air that extinguished the fire.

  Both men stared open-mouthed.

  “You see? You have no power over me.”

  Logan sank back to his chair and looked nervously at Brint who could only return the expression.

  “I'm not going to hurt you, but we don’t have time for disbelief or distrust. You are, even now, being pursued. They are still far behind you, but if you keep wandering aimlessly, they will catch you. You must retrieve the prophecy.”

  Tabitha spoke up. “If you know where it is, and it's so important to you, why don’t you retrieve it yourself?”

  “Ah, Tabby! What a wonderful question! You see?” he said looking at Logan and Brint in turn. “Leave it to a woman to cut right to the heart of the matter. I do not retrieve it because it is not for me to do so. You and Holly are the ones. I am no different than you in one respect, I have been given my own set of instructions, and I must do my best to see them carried out. I am simply your guide, and I only fulfill that role because I was sent to do so. I could certainly get the prophecy for you, but it would be like…well, like…Think of it this way: flying is marvelous, yes? If you see a bird fly, you may think, ‘Look, a bird flying. Nice.’ Now, what if you saw a horse fly? Now, that would be something extraordinary! That would make you sit up and pay attention. Sometimes people need to see the miracle. The everyday is not enough.”

  “You say you were sent. Sent by whom?” Holly asked.

  “Another excellent question! You two are much better at this than the men, I must say, but I’m sorry to tell you that I cannot answer that question, either. I’m afraid you must take it on faith.”

  “I do not have a lot of faith in something or someone I cannot see, and do not know, and who may be leading me on a fool’s errand,” Logan said, crossing his arms.

  Gabriel didn’t seem offended in the slightest. As a matter of fact, he smiled at Logan. “Dearest boy, firstly, those are surprising words for a follower of Rah, and secondly, if you knew all of those things, no faith would be required, would it?”

  “What do you know about the prophecy we’re seeking? It would help if we knew more,” Brint said.

  “I quite disagree. If you knew more, you'd make decisions based on an excess of information and only limited understanding. No, you must choose your own path based on what you know now. I can’t force you to go, but I think you will. Mostly, I think you will because if you wouldn’t, it would be an incredible waste of everyone’s time for me to be here in the first place. So, since I was sent, you must be going to go.”

  The circular logic didn’t make a lot of sense to Brint, but he didn’t imagine it would do any good to ask for clarification. “Tell us, then: where do we go from here?”

  “See, now you’re starting to think like a woman! Excellent question! Simply excellent, and once I have explained, maybe we could talk more about mapleberry jam.”

  ***

  Tabitha woke sometime before dawn and looked around the room where they slept. Her brother was turned away from her, so she couldn't see if he was asleep or not, but she thought probably not. He was a light sleeper, and with all that Gabriel had told them, he was probably having even more trouble than usual. He was a lot like their father in that way. Anytime there was something on Darius’s mind, you were likely to see him prowling the halls of Maj Keep. It didn’t even need to be a large problem, just something he was wrestling with. Cyrus help them all if it affected Dearra, for he became unbearable, stalking here and there like a caged panther.

  Holly was wrapped in a light blanket, and her mouth was opened slightly as she slept.

  Logan was nowhere to be seen. The spot where he'd been stretched out only hours before, now vacant.

  Tabby moved slowly so as not to disturb her brother. He'd probably hear her regardless, but she tried to be considerate as she rose and made her way to the door.

  Their conversation with Gabriel had gone nowhere, unless you wanted to count the long list of uses for and virtues of dandelions and their assorted parts. It seemed that Gabriel had decided that too much information at once was likely to muddle their already exhausted minds, and he would not be swayed. Morning, he assured them, was the perfect time for new information, as it was the start of the new day. Dealing with new things at the end of an old day was asking for trouble, as far as he was concerned. In truth, Tabby had a hard time keeping up with some of his more elaborate rambles that seemed to go nowhere in particular.

  She eased the door open. It made no betraying sounds, and she slipped quietly outside. Logan was sitting with his back to her, but she could see the glow of fire in front of him. She maneuvered to see what he was doing. It looked as if he was simply lazily tossing the fire from one hand to the other. His profile was lit by the glow, and she could see the frown stamped on his face. Whatever he was thinking, it clearly wasn’t pleasant.

  She climbed up on the rock beside him and rested her hands in her lap.

  He glanced at her and returned to tossing the flame from hand to hand.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked unnecessarily, not sure of what else to say.

  Logan shrugged.

  She scooted a little closer to his side, enjoying the warmth coming from the fire he was holding. “That's so pretty. It must be amazing to control fire like that. My father can bring fire, but not in the same way. He's tried to teach me, but I haven’t been able to produce so much as a spark. Brint can’t either,” she added. To tell the truth, it was comforting knowing there was at least one thing her perfect brother couldn’t do. She knew it was childish, but she couldn’t help herself from sharing that bit of information with Logan.

  He smirked. “Your whole life does not have to be a competition you know. You are your own person. Why do you always compare yourself with your brother?”

  “I don’t! I—”

  “You do, and it is silly. You have your own gifts. Why do you always discount them and wish for different ones?”

  Did she really do that? She wasn’t sure, but she was at least willing to consider it was possible.

  He didn’t say anything more, seeming to allow her time to sort through her thoughts and feelings. After a few minutes, he spoke again.

  “Here, give me your hands.”

  This time she was not as unprepared for what he meant to do, and she willingly held her hands out to him. He passed the flame from his hands to hers, and again, there was that pleasant, warm, tingly feeling as it hovered just over the surface of her palms. The fire began to twist and blur and then took shape. She drew in a delighted breath as she looked upon the perfect flower she held. It started out tightly furled, but then began to bloom as she watched. It was so lovely! She reached up and extended a single finger to stroke the petals.

  “Oh!” she yelped, pulling her hand back quickly.

  The fire vanished in an instant.

/>   “Let me see!” Logan pulled her hand closer and began to inspect the burn.

  “It’s fine,” she argued. “I was stupid. I don’t know what possessed me to try and touch it. It’s just that it was so pretty.”

  “I am so, so sorry, Tabitha. I should have warned you. I was the stupid one.” He pressed his lips gently against the burn and kissed it.

  All thoughts of the injury vanished. Her eyes were wide and locked with his, and her breathing hitched and then stopped. With her free hand, she reached out to touch his face, running her fingers lightly along his skin from temple to jaw.

  He released her hand and slipped his fingers into her hair. “I will never hurt you again,” he promised in a whisper.

  She leaned forward and closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss her. She felt his lips firm on hers, and she wondered if it affected him as deeply as it did her. She placed her hand on his chest, and felt the rapid beating of his heart.

  “Tabitha!”

  Her brother’s voice sounded harsh, and she pulled away from Logan who was already turning an angry glare in Brint’s direction.

  “Get your hands off her.” Brint’s voice was very cold, very Breken, but Logan didn’t seem daunted in the least.

  Tabitha tried to move away to avoid the confrontation she saw coming, but Logan took hold of her uninjured hand, preventing her from going far.

  “Brint, please,” she said. “It’s not what you think. I came out to see if everything was all right and—”

  “And what? You tripped? He broke your fall with his face? Tell me, Tabby, how is it not what I think?”

  “Stop it, Brint.” Now it was her voice that sounded more than a little Breken. “You aren’t Father.”

  “No, I’m not, and you should thank Cyrus for that, because if I was, I would put you over my knee. Your behavior is unacceptable, Tabby. Who knows what would have happened had I not come out when I did. This man is taking liberties, and you seem to like it. You should be thanking me for protecting the virtue you seem to have so little regard for. Next thing you know, you’ll be allowing him to toss up your skirts out here in the woods.”