by Petra Landon
Once the Vampire had exited the room, the lady let go of all pretense to stare blindly at the walls. The wolves were circling her, sensing blood. This was no time to play it safe. She’d been tentative with the fallback plan but now, it was time to double down on it. Faoladh must be shown that she meant business. And if he still proved recalcitrant, then she’d move forward without him.
Atsá passed the document to Duncan, before glancing around the cabin.
“Tasia.” He zeroed in on the Wizard. “What is your assessment of the Seer’s interpretation?”
Not expecting to be called upon so publicly, Tasia was startled. As all conversation died down to focus on him, Atsá explained. “You were the one to surmise the role of a rainmaker. The Oracle’s words confirm this deduction. I’m curious to know what you make of the Seer’s notes.”
“I don’t know what to think” she responded, unsure of what he was asking her.
Atsá didn’t miss a beat. “Do you believe the reason for his ambiguity is an unfinished prophecy?”
This time, Tasia answered the question. “As I understand it, a vision is a flash of events — something akin to a series of dreams or like watching a movie in parts. Yet, the manner in which the Oracle depicts the rainmaker — her past, her path to Chosen acceptance, as well as her difficult and complicated alliance with the champion — is very unequivocal and in depth, even as he provides no specifics. If you add in how he writes unambiguously about the struggle to upend Chosen tradition and dogma, though he doesn’t share what centuries-old custom will be targeted, it is hard to believe the visions did not give him the full picture.”
Atsá said nothing, merely studying her thoughtfully. They were in the air, a few hours from Belize. Many of the team had applied themselves to the Seer’s document again, after the revelations and new information from Faoladh and his investigators.
“You agree with Tasia, Atsá” Duncan observed perspicaciously.
The Navajo Shifter did not deny it. “The more I read the document, the more I believe that whatever made the Seer leave out details, it wasn’t because he didn’t see a clear picture of the future, Duncan.”
Roman’s brows drew together in astonishment. “If not that, then why talk in generalities about a prophecy that affects all Chosen?” he exclaimed. “Especially, since we now know that the Seer believed the future, this prophecy represents, is important enough to ensure that it be foretold in time.” He alluded delicately to the Oracle having a premonition of his own demise.
Atsá had no answer for him, and Roman turned to the Chosen with similar views to the Navajo Were-Alpha. “Tasia?”
“I’m not sure” she demurred.
The Alpha joined the fray unexpectedly. “Share, witchling. You don’t have to be sure.”
Her eyes flashed to him. “Sienna’s doodle is a clue, like everything else in the document. But it is unlike the other clues.”
A furrow marred the Alpha’s forehead as the wheels began to turn in his brain.
Luis Beltran leaned forward, his attention caught. “In what way, Tasia?”
It was Duncan who provided the answer, having come to the same conclusion about the curious scribble the Seer had left behind for his daughter.
“When it comes to The Prophecy, though he does not go into specifics, the Oracle describes the events and players to give us a sense of what kind of Chosen they are, what baggage they carry etc. Yet, the doodle, as a hint, is curiously bereft of even generalities, Luis. More importantly, this clue is unique in that it is directed at one person, the only one who can make the connection.”
Tasia’s gaze swung to Sienna, watching them with a blank look on her face. “That doodle was meant for his daughter” she reiterated quietly. “He had to have foreseen that Sienna would access the Seer’s document. Not hear about his notes, regarding his last prophecy, through the grapevine but actually lay eyes on it.”
Nandini chimed in. “Faoladh suggested something similar, Tasia. Perhaps, the doodle is a sign that the Oracle saw our investigation in his vision of the future.”
“I see where you’re going” Jason agreed with their premise. “If the vision showed him that we’d investigate the past, perhaps he also deduced that others, with easier access to official records, might check them out once the investigation’s focus on The Prophecy was out in the open.”
“The Guardians” Raoul murmured.
Hawk, following the rapid back and forth, interrupted them. “You’re saying the Oracle was being careful so as to not show his hand to the GCW. But why would he care if the Guardians knew what he had seen of the future?”
“For the sake of argument, Hawk, say if he put Lady Bethesda on official record as the custodian of his prophecy, how do you think the Guardians would react if they found out? Especially, if she emerged from the shadows and rallied them to her side” Atsá explained to his grandson.
Hawk’s eyes widened silently, as the implications of his grandfather’s words sank in.
“She’s only one example, Hawk, albeit an excellent one” a grave Jason reminded him. “There are myriad other possibilities. Perhaps, leaving everyone guessing, about some of the main players or events crucial to The Prophecy, allows the future to unfold the way it is meant to, without any Chosen attempting to influence it.”
“Faoladh did say that the Oracle was adamant about never revealing anything that might, even inadvertently, alter the future he saw in his visions” Maartje pointed out. “It is possible that not taking names is another instance of the Seer being careful that the future is not manipulated in any way.”
“Foresight about the future can be a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands” Atsá observed. “Thanks to Faoladh, we know that it was a prophecy that allowed him to birth a Council that represents all factions. In a way, knowledge about the future helped him to convince the Chosen. It is plausible that a different foretelling might enable a ruthless Magick to exploit what she knows will come to pass, to further her own cause.”
“You’re suggesting that the Oracle anticipated that his knowledge about the future might be exploited.” Hawk was stunned by this level of foresight on the part of the Seer.
“It’s a possibility, Hawk” Duncan seconded Atsá. “One we should not discount. That would certainly explain the lack of details on official record.”
As the others reflected on the possibility, Roman stated the obvious. “Hate to beat the same drum, but if the Oracle deliberately omitted the name of the rainmaker, then Lady B might not be far off in her fantasies.”
“I’m still with Sienna on this” Elisabetta’s voice rang out. “I do not believe she is the rainmaker.”
“Faoladh does, Elisabetta” Simeonov prompted her softly.
“Be that as it may, I don’t” she said firmly.
Sienna, hitherto lost in thought, turned impulsively to Tasia.
“You’ve clearly given this a lot of thought. What do you think? Is Lady Bethesda the rainmaker?”
Beside her, Nandini took in her half-sister’s expression silently. This matter of the rainmaker was a touchy subject for Sienna, she knew. Where her emotions about their mother were just as strong, she had little baggage from the past to deal with. But Sienna had spent the first decade of her life with her mother. Thus, the ties went deeper for her, and consequently, were more tangled and harder to deal with.
Tasia took a moment to choose her words but did not attempt, in any way, to soften the blow. It would do no one any good to bury their head in the sand. It was better to confront an ugly truth head on. It might even help them stop the advance of a crafty and merciless adversary.
“She might well be, Sienna” she said gently. “However, I’m not sure that when The Prophecy comes to pass, it will give her what she desires. She might find that the future she’s been working towards is something else altogether.”
To Tasia’s surprise, Sienna took the first part of her response in stride but seemed astonished by the second.
; Faoladh had implied much the same, but Sienna had a hard time buying it. “What makes you say that?” she asked.
Tasia shrugged. “The overall tone of The Prophecy, as well as the Seer’s document, hints broadly that what is coming will change things for the better.”
Sienna, very sure that her mother’s ambitions had nothing to do with uplifting the Chosen, reflected on the response. Yet, the thought of Lady Bethesda reaping any benefits at all after her past exploits and continued tyranny did not sit well with her. And Sienna knew that like her, Jason and Nandini too hoped for summary justice to be meted out to the Wizard for her crimes against their loved ones. In a way, she was mighty glad that it was the Pack that hunted her mother. The Shifters would not give up on bringing Lady Bethesda to justice for the past or the present. They were not likely to turn the other cheek in order to preserve Chosen amity or some unknown glorious future. It was comforting to remind herself that the Wyrs had never believed in prophecies. The only reason they’d chased the Seer’s interpretation so doggedly was to understand the future he predicted, since the Chosen they hunted had based her own ambitions on it.
Roman was the only one to be alarmed by this turn in the conversation. His eyes sought the Alpha. “Whatever the end result, unless we stop her in her tracks, the Chosen are in for a lot of grief” he warned.
Raoul said nothing, but what he read on the Alpha’s face had Roman relaxing. To the Ancient’s relief, the Shifters were not going to wait for The Prophecy to play out, in the hope that Lady Bethesda got her just deserts at the end of it. He’d always believed that, but Faoladh’s latest intervention had rattled Roman, as the implications of what the Alpha Wyr had shared became more apparent to him.
Duncan, perceiving the cause for Roman’s alarm, made haste to offer a suggestion. Their actions, as they went about the investigation, was the only way to assuage any concerns regarding Faoladh’s ambivalent and likely role in The Prophecy as ally to the adversary they must stop. No assurances would cut it. He noted curiously that neither Jason nor Nandini was rattled by Faoladh’s admission about the past, while Sienna even seemed relieved by his connection to her Da whose prophecy played a pivotal role in their investigation.
“If we believe that the Oracle set out to deliberately withhold the identities of the key players, perhaps we might be better served to consider The Prophecy from a different angle” the English Shifter suggested.
Jason was the first to comprehend Duncan’s suggestion. “He does provide more details about what The Prophecy is meant to accomplish” he affirmed.
“Those details are as mysterious as the description of the rainmaker” protested Elisabetta.
“Yes” the Guardian conceded. “But if he’s not actively trying to protect that aspect of the future, we have a better shot at unraveling the end goal, Elisabetta. If we do that, it could point us towards the custodian and her champion.”
“That’s a good point, Jason” Roman agreed with alacrity. “The Seer talks of changing Chosen dogma, centuries-old tradition and correcting the past.” He quoted from memory. They had all spent an inordinate amount of time studying the Seer’s brief note.
“As well as saving the future” amended Luis.
“Also, that powerful detractors will not stand by when Chosen canons are challenged” Atsá reminded them.
“Chosen canons” Nandini murmured aloud, as it struck her.
Tasia, who grasped what the Indian Chosen hinted at, perked up.
Roman took the hint too, but it puzzled him. “What role could the Primogeniture Canons play in this?”
They rarely came into play, unless a Chosen of mixed heritage was fought over between factions. Though, among the First Ones, the Canons were a significant way of classifying Magicks into the various sects and subgroups the Eru and Setik were divided into.
No one had an answer to Roman’s question. Barring Atsá and Duncan, the Shifters had little understanding about the precedents that comprised the Primogeniture Canons. And the others could find no connection to The Prophecy or how Lady Bethesda might exploit the Canons to further her influence in any way.
The flight touched down in Belize on a runway hacked through the heart of a tropical jungle. It was late afternoon, and they disembarked to gray skies and a heavy drizzle. A convoy of jeeps greeted them. Tasia noted that, apart from the array of staff, the resort had also sent a representative to welcome the visitors. It became apparent very soon to whom they owed this honor. The Ancient representative from the resort zeroed in on Roman Durovic, greeting him with some warmth and great respect. Where it had been Duncan who’d taken the lead on the logistics in Corfu, now it was Roman who stepped forward to do so.
They piled into two vehicles, while their luggage was taken in another. Despite the desultory weather and the pelting rain, the short journey to the resort proved spectacular. Though jetlagged after the long flight, Tasia perked up to gaze around her appreciatively. Lush rainforest flashed by, before the jeep came to a stop in a square-shaped open courtyard. She caught a glimpse of a few thatched roofs and buildings that blended into the environs. Enclosed on all sides by the forest, the resort was an oasis in the middle of nowhere. Tasia was aware that its location played a big part in the eco-resort’s role in hosting Chosen parleys and events. Apart from the landing strip to the west of the resort, the nearest town was an arduous three day trek through dense forest to the south.
“What is that?” Sienna asked curiously, gesturing at an oval-shaped stadium-like structure that rose up to tower over the three storey high lodge.
“That’s the arena where The Games are held” Atsá explained.
Nandini looked taken aback. “You’ve been here before, Atsá?”
“A long time ago” he acknowledged.
“For The Games?” Roman inquired.
“Yes, when the Wyrs dominated the arena” Atsá said with a straight-face.
Roman shot him a wry grin in response.
“Can we go see the arena?” Sienna interjected excitedly.
“Now?” a puzzled Jason asked.
Reminded thus, she was a little crestfallen. “Once the rain stops” she muttered.
Tasia frowned. Something about Sienna’s reaction seemed off. A kind of suppressed excitement clung to the Wizard.
As their luggage arrived, they were ushered to their rooms. Tasia was pleased to find herself on the third floor with a room that faced north. It offered a spectacular view of the grounds and the rainforest. The room was tastefully furnished with beautifully carved Belizean wood furniture. After Corfu, Tasia knew that the Shifters would crash very soon. She freshened up, to go looking for Sienna and the others. The rain had reduced to a drizzle but the sun was on its way down, when Tasia made her way to the stadium with Sienna, Jason, Nandini, Roman and Duncan.
Under the orange rays of the setting sun, the stadium appeared massive, especially next to the modest lodge architected to blend into its ecosystem. An enormous oval-shaped pit dominated the center, while ascending rows of seats encircled it, to soar over the surrounding landscape. The spectators had the best seats in the house, to witness all the action in the pit. A corridor connected the structure to the lodge’s main building, while the rest of the stadium backed onto the jungle. But what held Tasia transfixed was the magic in the air. Decades of Chosen battling it out in this arena, to prove themselves to their brethren, had left behind a cornucopia of spent magic of all hues and shades. The mix of old and new, potent and insufficient, washed over her, overcoming her Magick sixth sense, until she could no longer distinguish where the remnants of Wyr magic ended and that of the First Ones began. The very air seemed to quiver with the vestiges left over from Chosen exercising their age-old powers. For a moment, she tensed, reminded of the time at Wizard Headquarters when the massive doses of magic in the air had overwhelmed her. But as the minutes passed by without incident, Tasia relaxed, reveling in the sensations and hues of magic. At the back of her mind, a question arose. In San Diego, w
hen the Pack had gone on a rampage, it had mostly been Wyr and some Wizard magic in the air. But this arena was redolent with a more potent mix of magic — The Games had once attracted the very powerful among the Chosen. Yet, she felt none of the after-effects here. Tasia couldn’t help but wonder why.
Beside Tasia, another Wizard stared silently at the array of empty seats that surrounded the pit they stood in. Sienna had never been to the resort before, or even to Belize. Yet, she knew this particular arena very well. Her heart thumped madly with rising excitement and it was all she could do to not shout out triumphantly to Jason. But her ability to see flashes of the future was a secret she’d kept from her new friends. And Da’s document had only solidified her resolve to keep it so. As her eyes drank in the details, subconsciously matching them to those imprinted in her mind, she searched for the podium where the Council of Chosen would sit in judgement. Before she could locate it, images slammed into her, like a fast moving reel that winked on and off at dizzying speed. She stumbled, as her overworked brain attempted to grapple with the onslaught of stimulation. And just like that, Sienna was transported to a room, similar to the accommodation provided to her in the lodge.
---
She stood at the window, blind to the view, her mind roiling with troubled thoughts. A perfunctory knock on the door interrupted her musings. Before she could acknowledge it, the door was flung open. Two women burst precipitously into the room.
Sienna addressed the one with unusual indigo-colored eyes. “Where is she?”
A somber Nandini gestured wordlessly at the woods outside. “Says she’s out of options.”
“We’ll see about that” Sienna muttered grimly, making for the door. The two women followed her without a word.