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Shadow Sight

Page 11

by T. G. Ayer


  Allegra was still laughing as she settled on Max’s lap, enjoying the closeness. “Admit it. You’re jealous.”

  Max started to shake his head, but Allegra placed a finger on his cheek. “Well, perhaps a tiny bit.”

  Allegra grinned and shook her head. “Want to know a secret?” she whispered in his ear.

  “As long as it does not include you fantasizing about the man naked,” Max muttered.

  “Xales’ human form isn’t fully human. He uses a glamor to hide the fact that his lower half is still that of a boar.”

  Max’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “What? Are you serious?”

  Allegra nodded. “He appeared in boar form and then transformed into something in between. His upper half is fully human though.”

  Max smirked. “And the lower half is fully that of a boar?” he asked, squinting at Allegra as she nodded. Then he cupped his free hand giving a suggestive wink, “and his mmh...a boar’s as well? Size?” Max let out a low cry as Allegra smacked him hard on the biceps.

  “Shut up, Max.”

  He gave her an innocent look. “I was just curious. I mean, you saw him with your own two eyes.”

  Allegra pursed her lips. “Well, if you must know, I didn’t look.”

  “Not even a tiny little peek?” Max nudged her arm.

  “Not even a tiny peek.” Allegra lifted a brow. “I think perhaps I have a regular enough dose of the...uh,” she mimicked Max’s cupped hand, giving him a sultry stare, “to keep me happy.”

  Max let out a bark of laughter that filled the study. His chest shook, and Allegra grinned back, enjoying the small respite in which nothing else mattered other than her and the man she adored.

  That same man shifted and wrapped his arms around her as he got to his feet. “Perhaps you could do with another...dose? I’ll be more than happy to comply should the Pythia wish to sample the...uh...”

  Max ignored Allegra as she slapped his chest. He carried her out of the study, and past the meeting rooms, heading toward their bedroom.

  Allegra supposed she should have resisted, given that it was still the middle of the day. But she didn’t particularly care. Being in Max’s arms made up for so much of the misery that she so often found herself immersed in, and the few moments in which she spent enveloped in affection and passion, in the arms of a man with a heart of gold, was well worth the talk that a midday rendezvous would generate.

  Max entered their bedroom, shut the door with his foot and tossed Allegra in the middle of the bed.

  Allegra lay back on her elbows, offering him a sultry smile, only too ready for her midday rendezvous.

  Chapter 21

  And they’d reached the end of that journey, celebrating success on the deck of their ship as they watched the pale shores of the city of Atlantis rise in the distance as though emerging from the middle of the ocean.

  The wind gusted around Allegra, tugging at the fabric around her legs, pulling hard at her hair and thrusting her long locks into her face. Allegra brushed them aside impatiently, anxious that she would miss the approach to the great city.

  But the journey was slow and long enough as the captain maneuvered his vessel along the waters, taking extra care to avoid the sandbanks that seemed to appear without warning. The captain had labeled the waters in this part of the ocean as capricious, but Allegra thought the word too mild. Her visions had told her what horrors would have awaited them had the residents of this city still occupied it. But her visions had told her otherwise. Months ago, the residents had fled, and her visions had been filled with the fear of the inhabitants. The most frustrating aspect of it was that the fears of the people had seemed unfounded and nowhere in her visions had she seen a reason for the people to flee the city.

  As the ship drew closer, Goran came to stand beside her, taking deep lungfuls of air as though he wanted to inhale the very reality of the city’s existence. She knew she’d only told him what she’d seen because she’d loved his passion for history and archeology, his devotion to understanding the peoples of the past.

  Many people, her family, the senate, and even his own friends, had accused him of living with his head in the clouds, of not grounding himself in reality and thereby shirking his role as the husband of the Pythia. Their relationship had blossomed before the weight of being the Pythia had fallen upon her shoulders. Neither she nor Goran had ever expected, or even wanted, such responsibility. And yet they’d both shared that burden and had carried themselves accordingly.

  Allegra had shrugged off the criticism as the accusations of the envious, of those who coveted what her husband had. She’d had many suitors, a long line of men who thought themselves deserving of a place at her side. Little did they know that they had all failed the most important test, that should she see their future when she touched them, that very vision no matter what its content, would forever preclude them from ever sharing her life or even her bed.

  But Goran had been immune, and being with him was a pleasure in more ways than those of being man and wife. To hug or hold someone, to pass a bowl of fruit, or share a grapple for a ball, all things the normal person could not ever understand. Goran was her island of peace, and she’d go to her death forever grateful for having found him.

  And as a woman who knew the worth of the man she loved, how could she ever have passed up the chance to gift him with something he’d dreamed of for most of his life.

  But the closer they now drew, the worse she felt. Her stomach twinged, mild pulses of pain at first and then growing worse every second until she couldn’t decide if she wanted to vomit or curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out. Something was terribly wrong, and it was directly related to her husband, but she couldn’t see it even if she wanted to, because Goran was Immunis.

  A blessing and a curse it seemed.

  Chapter 22

  A flock of white gulls swarmed in the air above the ship, diving low and swooning upward to ride the air currents, their screaming, keening cry making the approach to the abandoned city all the more mournful. Another hour went by before the ship finally reached a dock where the entire pier was made of carved marble, and the steps glistened with streaks of gold.

  Behind her, the captain let out a low whistle as he stared up at the plinths of the temples in the distance. From their approach, the city had appeared to be circular in construction, and the docks were located along the outer edge of the largest circle which seemed to also act as a barrier against the tide.

  A barrier that appeared to have been destroyed in many places.

  Goran leaned toward her. “What do you suppose caused that destruction?” he asked, his tone playful.

  With a sigh, she said, “A weapon perhaps? Some type of small cannon?” she suggested, glancing at him for a brief moment before shifting her attention back out to the buildings above the docks.

  He was silent for so long that she glanced back at him, concerned that perhaps he was angered by her suggestion. But Goran’s smile had only fallen for a moment and then his eyes lit with amusement. “Beautiful and smart. I quite like it,” he said seductively.

  He’d always loved the fact that she was intelligent, that she could speak her own mind. But now, Allegra didn’t have the heart to reveal that she’d seen it in her vision when she’d first learned of the existence of this fabled city.

  Fat cannons spewing fireballs, sending them smashing into the pristine white marble walls of the docks. She only hoped that the rest of the city had escaped the destruction.

  The crew left the ship moored at the docks and proceeded to explore the city. Armed in case they encountered a dangerous element, they spread out around the circular islands, finding many a sight to exclaim over. But Goran bore a single-minded determination as he hurried along marble streets edged in gold and silver, walls covered in mosaic paintings so lifelike that the only thing that made them unusual was that they had been created with chips of precious metals instead of paint.

  Allegra had found herself quite entran
ced and had ignored Goran’s summons more than once. The images painted onto walls and floors pulled her closer, and she could have sworn she’d heard a low hiss of whispers the closer she got. Only when Goran’s call had borne a hint of annoyance did she stir from her trance to hurry over to him.

  He was standing in the center of the smallest of twelve circles. At the very center was a miniature temple of Neptune, tall enough for a full-grown man to enter, but barely large enough to hold her husband’s girth. And within the open space was an amphora made of gold covered carvings depicting the constellations. A small golden plug sealed the mouth of the jar, and Allegra’s heart jumped as she drew closer, certain now that he’d found what he’d been looking for.

  Goran beckoned her over, his eyes sparkling with excitement and triumph. Above him the sun beat down on them, a glorious golden light bathing his face. And Allegra went, reluctant to leave him alone with his newfound treasure, desperate for the feel of his love, as though something deep inside her told her that the amphora had already taken possession of the man she loved more than life itself. “We found it, my love,” he called out, smiling ever brighter as Allegra reached him. “It’s real, and we have it,” he said, the whispered words more of a hiss of excitement.

  She’d never been fooled by his claims that the city itself was his goal.

  Goran took her into his arms and Allegra curled her hands around his waist, pouring all her love into her embrace in the hopes that her husband would value their love as more important than his dreams of treasure hunting.

  Alas, it was not meant to be.

  The return trip to the ship was fraught with frustration as tempers flared among the sailors, as well as between Goran and Allegra. She had wondered on more than one occasion what could have been responsible for the destruction of the city, and as she watched her husband clutch tightly to the amphora, she grew more certain every moment that passed that the brass vessel may have something to do with the fall of Atlantis.

  They boarded the ship, and the sailors all went their separate ways after one of the crew seemed to lose his mind. He’d begun to talk to himself even before they’d reached the ship, and his condition only grew worse after boarding. His ranting had upset the rest of the crew.

  Arms still wrapped around the amphora, Goran escaped to their cabin, hiding there for most of the journey home. Allegra had spent half her journey pretending to be sleeping, the other half feigning nausea in order to be alone outside.

  Goran never left the cabin the entire journey back to Delphi.

  If that had not been a sure sign, Allegra didn’t know what was.

  Chapter 23

  Waiting to find out more about when the trio of disasters was about to happen had begun to get on Allegra’s nerves. In addition, the strange dream had also set her off balance, and she’d found herself rummaging around inside the fire-safe again, on the hunt for more information about the Pythia Lydia and her ill-fated romance with Goran, the hunter of lost cities.

  The dream had ended a little too soon, and Allegra hoped that perhaps she would find a little more information on Lydia before the time came for the team to leave for the mission.

  Max had relented eventually, agreeing that Allegra could go with Athena and Xales. Allegra was only too happy with having a powerful demigod and her own personal familiar on her team. She had little doubt that she’d be safer than Max and his team—which did seem a little unfair when she thought about it.

  Marcus Asante, Max’s second in command at FAPA had arrived with Flavius Lex. Marcus would help coordinate the searches and would head-up the Fornia investigation with his team back home, while Max would head to Pompeii with the seer. The man had seemed somewhat subdued, his startlingly blue eyes somewhat faded, and Allegra had to wonder if he too held her responsible for Corina’s death. The way Allegra did.

  Corina’s death on their mission to Rajasthan to identify the origin point of the deadly flu had remained with Allegra, the seer’s blood still staining her hands.

  Allegra had come to terms with her condition, after some intensive research and coming to understand what she suffered from—a hysteria of sorts, something modern doctors defined as a long-term emotional reaction to any form of high-stress situation. Anyone from soldiers after battles to mothers who lose their babies, to rape victims and even victims of accidents and emotional abuse in a family setting, will suffer from such a hysteria.

  And Allegra had recognized it in the visions of blood on her hands. She knew the blood was not real, even when she was compelled to soap and scrub her fingers sometimes until they bled. How she was going to resolve her feelings, she was not yet sure. It was possible that she’d need to speak to a therapist, but the last thing she needed was to cast any form of doubt upon the strength and power of the Pythia.

  So she’d resolved to work out her feelings on her own.

  And now, every time she saw the blood on her hands, she counted to ten and focused on Corina, first her personality, then her strong-mindedness. Allegra tried to reset her train of thought into one that accepted Corina’s own actions, and that the seer had not been a victim but rather a woman within the agency, a woman with the power to make her own decisions, even if her choices had inevitably resulted in her death.

  Allegra had to write the words down on a piece of paper, keeping it with her as much as was possible. Words that reminded her that Corina’s death was not Allegra’s fault, that the circumstances of the mission hadn’t been within anyone’s control. That there had been nothing she could have done to save Corina.

  But it still struck her deeply that she’d not understood her vision of Corina’s death, that the seer’s passing had had nothing to do with the plague, that Allegra had not ultimately prevented it. But there was a truth Allegra had never admitted—although she was not technically supposed to be able to see another seer’s future, she had done just that on the plane when they were traveling to Indus.

  She had seen a snippet of Corina’s future, one that at the time had not made much sense to Allegra. One that had only revealed its true nature when that fatal bullet had struck Corina, when the blood had spread across her shirt.

  Which was why Allegra remained fixated on the fact that though she was after all the most powerful seer in the world, she had been incapable of saving the life of one of her own.

  Allegra let out a weary sigh. Perhaps this was the next problem on her list that needed resolving. But for now, she had to focus herself on the task at hand—a triplicate of disasters and a strange vision of a troubled Pythia and her misguided Immunis that gave Allegra the strangest feeling of foreboding.

  Taking a deep breath, Allegra closed the door of the fire-safe behind her and began to search the shelf one tome at a time. The names of the Pythias were written on the leather covers, some burned into the skin, some carved and inlaid with gold or silver, some stitched in golden thread.

  After an hour—a time taken only because Allegra was terrified of rushing through the books and damaging them—she found the diary of the Pythia Lydia.

  Allegra took the journal to the desk and opened it carefully, seating herself, pulling her chair close as she studied the first page.

  I, Pythia Lydia, hereby record my time as the Oracle of Delphi, and do swear that the contents of this Codex be the starkest of truths, and the most honest of thoughts.

  Allegra pursed her lips. Perhaps she ought to have already begun her own codex. She too had a lot to write that would educate the next Pythia.

  If there was a next Pythia.

  Shaking the thought off, Allegra paged through Lydia’s first musings, which turned out to be a record of her initiation into the Delphine Sanctum, and her first prophecies.

  Lydia went on to describe her first meeting with Goran, a tradesman from the East who she’d met at a royal event, where diplomats, and the wealthy ate and danced with royalty. The oracle had recorded quite honestly her fascination with the enigmatic, worldly man, her attraction to his dark looks
and his charming ways. Her initial observations were nothing like what Allegra had seen in the visions of the pair as they’d traveled to Atlantis.

  Goran Evet was not a man who swayed easily from his path. But the love of a woman was something far more powerful than ambition.

  When Goran and I met for the first time, it had been easy to see that he’d been smitten instantly. To those who would claim that falling in love in the breath of a moment was impossible, I would have said they were nothing but fools, for Goran had only to set eyes upon me, to gaze upon my “olive skin and watch the light play upon my blushing cheeks, against my full red lips” and he was mine forever.

  That I’d felt the same for him had been more than he could have ever asked for. In fact, Goran had truly believed our relationship would fall apart, that something terrible would happen to take me from his arms. But every day had passed with only more time to love me: the woman of his dreams.

  Marriage had followed soon after, a joyous event in which the tribal council declared our marriage a holy union, had announced that the Seer’s powers had become officially recognized both within Greece as well as around the world, and that Goran was to be declared Immunis.

  Neither Goran nor I had known what that meant until the council had explained. One of the things about Goran that I had adored was that when I touched him, I saw nothing of his future. The council advised that such a mate to a Seer is Immune to the foretelling, making him the Immunis—a rather important, if not powerful—person who would stand at the Seer’s side for the extent of her lifetime.

  Later that year, the seat of the Seer was declared to be Delphi, and I, Lydia became known as the Pythia of Delphi. Goran and I had been happy in post-honeymoon bliss, until I received a strange vision. One that implied that the legendary city of Atlantis could be found out in the middle of the black seas of the Nerthallasus.

 

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