The Oracle's Prophecy

by Alex Leopold

  Her father was a conduit. A channel through which years of stored energy could flow from the accumulator into the portaller. He was struggling to control it though, his face a contortion of agony as electricity tore through his body like fire; blistering his skin all the way up to his shoulders.

  “I’m passed the hundred mile barrier.” Tipler said from where he lay in the tank.

  “It’s working!” An excited Cooper said as she watched from nearby.

  “How long do they have to make the portal?” Mayat asked.

  “Seventy seconds.” Acadia responded.

  Thirty of them passed without another word from the two men and all Cooper could do was sit there counting each agonizing second in her head as she listened to the machine groan louder from the strain.

  “I’m in Hellanta. I’m there!” Tipler finally announced as the gateway shook so badly, Redtail was thrown off his feet.

  “Pull the lever!” Her father shouted. “The accumulator is almost spent.”

  “I can’t get the portal to anchor on the other side.” Tipler gasped fighting his own exhaustion. “If I pull the lever now, the ride will be so violent it’ll tear us apart.”

  “What do you need?” Her father asked.

  “More power.”

  Cooper could see the light fading in the accumulator. There’s no power to give, she feared.

  As if he’d heard her, her father turned to her and smiled.

  “You have nothing to worry about.” He tapped.

  When he closed his eyes the accumulator began to glow again.

  The gateway shook a second time and half the glass plates across the shell splintered.

  “Thirty-five seconds.” Acadia continued to count.

  Cooper felt it first. The heat coming off her father’s body.

  “What’s he doing?”

  She looked at Acadia and repeated herself more forcefully.

  “The portaller needs more energy.” He responded. “The only energy left is what’s inside your father.”

  “That’s crazy! He’s too injured, it could kill him.”

  When Acadia didn’t look her in the eye, she realized he already knew this.

  “No!” She lunged at him.

  Wrapping her arms around his body, she tore off her gloves with her teeth and placed her fingers against his skull.

  “Take it from me.” She begged.

  His body was so hot her fingers were burning.

  Nothing happened though. He wasn’t absorbing her energy.

  “I have to do this.” He tapped without opening his eyes. His skin was shimmering and he was letting out a painful moan.

  “No you don’t.”

  “I love you, I’ve always loved you.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  His body was now so hot she had to back away from him.

  “Twenty seconds.” Acadia said.

  “Promise me you’ll take care of your sister. That you’ll take care of each other.”

  Cooper looked for Riley. She was curled up in a ball hugging herself on the other side of the shell near Nakano.

  “We can’t do this without you.” She said.

  “Yes, you can. And you will.”

  From somewhere outside the shell they heard a loud explosion as Cooper’s father cried out in agony.

  “The gateway’s dying.” She heard Acadia say.

  “How long?” Mayat asked.

  “Ten seconds.”

  “I found him.” He tapped to her. “I found Malthus. And he’s right where Nakano said he’d be.”

  His body was shimmering so brightly she could barely make out his features. In her head he showed her a black man sitting at a card table in a tavern. Behind him in the center of the room grew a tree.

  “Tell Nakano, she made me a believer again.” He said, then chuckled. “And tell Malthus, welcome to the party.”

  “Four seconds. Three, two…”

  Their father used the shift to pull the lever.

  “I need you with me.” Cooper begged.

  “I promise you, I’ll never leave you.” He told her as the portal opened and they disappeared through it.

  Part III

  62

  Malthus dragged his cards across the felt table, then turned them up by a fraction to read them.

  “You got trust issues, Mister?” Asked the young man sitting to his left.

  “Do I have a reason to?”

  “Not of me.” The young man said good naturedly. “I’d never cheat and read your cards.”

  No, you’ll just cheat and use the cards you have hidden up your sleeve, Malthus thought. No one else had noticed, no one but Malthus.

  In any other town he might have said something, but this was Hellanta, the city of outlaws. If you weren’t cheating here, well, then you were doing something wrong. And make no mistake, everyone at the table that night was cheating, including Malthus.

  Strictly speaking of course, they weren’t in the city. They were in a small carriage-house a few miles outside its borders, which was known as much for its dogwood tree standing in the center of the main room as for the cheap alcohol served behind its bar.

  There were dozens of similar places littered throughout the woods surrounding Hellanta. They were built to welcome travelers from far and wide who needed a place to rest while they waited for news that King Kalahar had granted them permission to enter his domain. It was well known that even though his was one of the last few free cities left in the nation, the King didn’t allow anyone to come or go without his say so.

  That’s what brought most of the men to the card table that night and, through an open window, the city could be spied in the distance. Its electric lights made it shine like a beacon in the night.

  For his own sake, Malthus was waiting on a different kind of message. He’d caused the King some irritation and had been advised to remain outside the city’s walls until news came that he could re-enter without the risk of having his head removed from its shoulders. He was now in his sixth month of banishment and there appeared to be no end in sight.

  When the dealer asked for their bids, they all threw in their chips. A scaley at the table raised the bid when it was his turn, because he always raised the bid.

  “You in some kind of hurry?” An old man with a long grey beard asked irritably when the scaley raised the bid again.

  He’d been forced to fold a good hand after the female ratty sitting at the bar signaled he might not have the cards to win.

  The scaley turned his blank face to judge the old man intently, his bulbous eyes blinking in their slow ponderous fashion as he looked him up and down.

  The old man gave him a loud sniff before returning to his cards. The scaley continued his appraisal, using the opportunity to try and read his emotions from the odors emitting from the old man’s body.

  And with the dealer secretly passing cards to the woman on his right – dressed as a coachman, but actually in the employ of the house – that completed the table. It was a sad reflection on the kind of world they lived in that Malthus couldn’t even remember the last time he’d played an honest game. Not that he could complain, he was the worst of the lot.

  “You really know how to bruise a lady’s ego.” The female coachman said in surprised bewilderment as she watched Malthus collect the chips from the pot below her nose.

  A second before, she’d thought it was hers. And she’d had every right to feel confidant, the dealer had passed her face cards in order to win it.

  “I was just lucky this time.” Malthus replied sincerely, even if he was speaking in half-truths.

  On this occasion he happened to have the better hand. What he didn’t care to mention was that he’d known he’d win from the outset. Because Malthus was a crink, and he was reading everyone’s minds.

  No one knew his secret, of course. Anomalies weren’t the kind of people to be accepted at the gambling tables of Hellanta. This was a policy which the King himself ensured was enf
orced by ordering every player to inhale a pinch of powdered sting before every game.

  Malthus had taken his snuff just like the rest of them that night, and had passed without incident; thanks to the eight years he’d spent building a tolerance to the toxin. Night-after-night, he’d poisoned himself so that one day he’d be able to pass the King’s test – a long and painful journey to getting rich, but it had worked for ten years.

  Until the King had found out.

  At least you just got banishment instead of the noose, Malthus reminded himself, knowing he’d come very close to the latter.

  “So tell us”, the old man with the long grey beard asked when Malthus won another hand. “Who taught you how to play so well?”

  As Malthus collected his winnings he felt little compulsion to answer. Yet, the question brought back a memory of the very first time he’d played, and the friends who’d introduced him to the game.

  “You know, it was the Archon himself.” He replied with a rare grin.

  The young-man blew a loud a raspberry. “You’re full of it, Mister.”

  “I’m not surprised you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

  He could still remember the long nights playing cards and talking nonsense with the two men no one of today’s world would ever believe once shared a table let alone a friendship; the Archon and the Great Inventor. Best time of my life, he reminded himself.

  Till you tore it apart, and when he caught his reflection in one of the many wall mirrors he saw the smile had slipped from his face.

  You’re just another old black man now, he told himself. Who hides the grey by shaving his head, as much as he hides from his past so he doesn’t have to remember what he was and what he’d done.

  “If you ever need help, call out my name, and I’ll return.”

  He wasn’t sure why, but at that moment he recalled the last thing he’d said to Quill on the night he was forced to flee Sancisco. Funny, he hadn’t thought about that night in years.

  “Mister?” Someone said. Then asked him again. “Hey, Mister?”

  “What was that?”

  “It’s your bet.” The dealer reminded him.

  Malthus threw his cards away, folding even though he had the winning hand.

  “You know what, I’m having a good night. Perhaps it's time I got a bottle for the table, hmm?”

  He needed to shake himself out of his revelry. Losing money tonight would not change the past.

  Everyone agreed, and Malthus looked for a houndsman waiter. He raised his hand when he spotted one, but flinched when a sharp pain ran up the length of his arm.

  “You okay there?” The female coachman asked.

  “I’m fine.” He replied, but the pain struck him again and before he knew it, he was on his knees.

  Gripping his chest, he felt the strange sensation of something pulling at his very soul. Then he saw a ghost-like hand gripping onto his own.

  “You made a promise.” The phantom tapped in his mind. “I’ve returned so you can honor it.”

  As he heard the words in his head a massive wall of water enveloped him.

  63

  Riley felt herself accelerate as she travelled through the gateway, then she was stumbling forward into a large room filled with dozens of people lounging on chairs. The room was calm. There was laughter, and Riley thought she heard a woman softly singing to the accompaniment of a piano.

  Then everything vanished as she was enveloped by a massive wall of ice cold water that drove her off her feet and tumbled her across the floor.

  The wave washed her up against an overturned table, her clothes sodden and clinging to her skin. She gasped loudly, as much from the biting chill of the water as from the sudden change in her circumstances. A second ago, she’d been in the Harvardtown gateway, now… Well, where the hell was she?

  The wave of water had plunged the large open room into darkness. Only the odd candle remained lit and Riley could make out little beyond a mess of overturned tables and chairs. Yet, from everywhere she heard the sounds of men and women calling out in confusion and panic.

  The water was what remained of the gateway’s quicksilver, Riley figured. They must’ve accidentally brought it with them when they went through the portal. Riley found other fragments of the gateway scattered in front of her; red hot pieces of cooper tubing and cracked glass from the shell.

  She bet it had made quite the sight when it suddenly appeared.

  On her hands and knees, she began scrambling across the floor, but paused when she almost climbed over a body. She instantly recoiled, even through her gloved fingers she could sense something wasn’t right.

  Lighting the spark to better see, she found herself looking into Nakano’s lifeless eyes. She was gone.

  Did she die before we travelled through the portal, or after, Riley wondered? Did she know we made it?

  The Oracle’s last prophecy was hers to carry now, Riley realized. She closed the older woman’s eyes, the weight of the notebook now a little heavier in her pocket.

  “Riley? Cooper?” Acadia called from the shadows.

  “I’m here!” She grew the spark brighter to help her peer into the gloom.

  With more light she spotted a few frightened souls exiting into the night. They shied their damp faces away when she shone her spotlight on them. Then Riley saw a man pointing a gun at her.

  Snuffing out the spark, she fell to her knees as gunshots rang out from his pistol. The bullets punched themselves into the table she was crouched behind.

  “Bloody crinks!” The man kept yelling until his weapon was empty.

  As he paused to reload, Riley heard the whisper of a sword telescoping out of its metal staff, and caught the hint of a shadow leaping across the room. There was just enough light for everyone to watch the Sekhem cut the man clean in half.

  “Don’t use your powers until we know what we’ve gotten ourselves into here.” Acadia whispered in Riley’s ear after he’d bulldozed his way across the room to get to her.

  “Nakano’s dead.” She said forcing herself not to cry.

  “She’s been dying for days.” Mayat said with indifference. “The portaller didn’t make it either.”

  “Must’ve been too much for him to get us here.” Acadia said.

  “Are we in Hellanta?” Riley asked.

  “Who the hell knows. We need to find your sister.”

  He grasped her hand and pulled her into an adjoining room, Mayat following. As he moved, he kept his back arched low to protect himself from the gun shots that were now peppering the building from outside.

  “Have you found father?” Riley asked them, barely able to keep up with the ursinian.

  Her legs were heavy with exhaustion, her boots saturated with water. She kept slipping or stumbling over the debris now littering the floor.

  Neither answered.

  “Cooper! God damn it, where are you?” Acadia barked when another room turned up empty.

  Riley saw something in her mind’s eye. Her sister. A line of horse stalls. People fighting.

  “There’s a barn nearby, I think. I see Cooper in it.” Riley whispered losing her footing.

  It was hard to concentrate on the images in her head and walk at the same time. It made her dizzy.

  “You sure?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not me, it’s my abilities.” She stammered trying to make sense of what was happening. “Feels like I’m there too, like we’re somehow connected.”

  “Check it out.” Acadia told Mayat. “We’ll keep looking inside.”

  “I’ll try and find father.” Riley offered as the two of them trudged into an adjoining room.

  She could already feel her anomaly senses spreading out through the different rooms of the carriage-house, searching for him.

  “No!” Acadia shouted. “Let’s find Cooper first.”

  “Why?”

  Again, he said nothing.

  He’s keeping something from you, her mind told her. And th
ough she knew it was wrong, she let her mind tunnel into his.

  The bar in the main room. His thoughts told her. There’s something behind it he doesn’t want you to see.

  “Stay out of my goddam head!” He whirled around and stuck his massive boulder-sized face in hers. His black button like eyes stared at her fiercely. It frightened her.

  It must’ve shocked him too, as he gasped in horror.

  “I’m sorry.” He said patting her hand.

  “It’s okay.”

  “My job is to protect you both. So will you help me find your sister first? Please?” He asked after composing himself.

  She agreed and he gave a grateful smile. He was about to return to his search when they heard someone approaching.

  “You'll never guess where I ended up?” A cheerful Ellis said as he leapt over an overturned table.

  “A tree!” He added with amused incredulity. “There's a god-damn tree in the other room, and one second I'm in Harvardtown, the next I'm hanging by my fingernails from the top branch.”

  “Forget the tree, have you seen Cooper?” Acadia cut him off.

  The bar, Riley’s thoughts repeated themselves as Ellis answered he hadn’t.

  Acadia was momentarily distracted. She released herself from his grip and raced back into the main room, her legs carrying her to the long wooden bar that dominated one side of the room.

  Acadia barked for her to stop but she was moving too quickly for him to catch her.

  “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll be.” Varick’s voice whispered to her as she switched behind the bar, almost expecting to find him lying there in wait for her.

  “It’s okay now, Miss Riley.” Redtail whispered when he saw her. “He’s at peace now.”

  “Cooper!” She heard Acadia’s voice call out one last time as she looked down at her father’s dead body.

  64

  “Is she with us, Kala?” The voice of a teenage boy, croaked from somewhere close beside her.

  “I don't know.” The young girl replied back, her voice frank and matriarchal in its tone. “You'll have to talk to her to find out?”