By the time we’d flown into the regional airport in Olympia, Washington, then rented cars and driven the hour or so to Westport on the coast, it was just after eight o’clock in the evening. The dark sky was partly cloudy, but it wasn’t threatening to rain … yet. In this part of the world, precipitation didn’t come with much warning.
We’d split up for the drive. Henry was in front with Kandy, Audrey, and Kett in a hulking black Cadillac Escalade. Warner was driving a smaller green Ford Escape, following with Drake and me. Apparently, Kett hadn’t had enough notice to insist on white vehicles only.
Although getting trapped within the portal certainly hadn’t been any sort of picnic, traveling that way was a lot less hassle than either flying or driving. It probably didn’t help that I was still exhausted.
I was disappointed that I wasn’t traveling with Kandy, but she was concerned about Henry’s newfound ability to take human form even under the full moon — and was even more concerned that he might suddenly revert. Kett’s fascination with the whole bitten werewolf/sorcerer thing — of course and always — had inspired his tagging along in the shapeshifters’ SUV.
Audrey hadn’t wanted Kandy or Henry to set foot out of the house, let alone go anywhere near Rochelle. The beta had been seriously snitty about it, in fact. Supposedly, their presence in Mississippi had ‘only made things worse,’ and the oracle and Beau were under Audrey’s supervision.
The beta had also balked over ‘flying in a jet owned by a vampire.’ But she didn’t have much say about it after we’d all driven to the airport and boarded without her consent.
The road cutting west away from Interstate 5 wasn’t treacherous, but it was seriously dark and underutilized. I’d expected the area to be similar to Vancouver Island or Squamish — a mostly single-lane highway weaving through rocky cliffs covered in mossy fir and cedar trees. But the land was fairly level, and for the most part, sparsely dotted with trees and foliage. At least, as far as I could see in the dark.
Drake was sprawled out lengthwise in the back seat. I’d managed to refrain from chiding him about putting on a seat belt, though I had mine securely fastened. Warner wasn’t a bad driver, but he operated the vehicle like someone with insane reflexes and the ability to walk away from a pileup without a scratch. Occasionally, I had to remind him that cars were built for regular humans. Following behind Henry kept him in check. Though he grumbled about the snail’s pace every fifteen minutes or so, we were still cruising twenty or more miles an hour over the posted speed limit.
I was slowly savoring the last few squares of a silky smooth bar of 75 percent cocoa from Akesson’s — part of the supply of chocolate I’d made sure was packed in my satchel before I entered the nexus what seemed like a lifetime ago. The single-origin bar from Madagascar somehow evoked a fruity tartness — citrus and red berry notes at the same time. Identifying the subtleties at play within its deep cocoa flavor was a great way to force myself to take a time-out.
In order to keep the new treat all to myself, I’d given Drake one of my favorite bars — Manjari from Valrhona, an exceedingly fresh and fruity 64 percent cocoa with a finish of roasted nuts. Drake had accepted the treat, but he didn’t go all rapturous about it. Apparently, even great chocolate couldn’t fully revive his jovial nature.
“Do you think she sees us coming?” I asked Warner as I leaned toward him, holding my second-to-last piece of chocolate in front of his lips.
He opened his mouth and I pressed the chocolate to his tongue. “The oracle?” he asked, lightly sucking my fingertips before I withdrew my hand.
“I don’t think Rochelle can quite tap in like that yet,” Drake said. “Or focus her sight.”
“I was just thinking how terrifying it would be for her to see us bearing down on her like this,” I said.
“She’s made of steel,” Drake said. “Or some sort of flexible metal at least.”
I glanced over my shoulder. The moonlight filtering in the side window above his head illuminated Drake’s face just enough for me to discern that he had his eyes closed. His half-eaten chocolate bar was resting on his chest.
“A person can be scared and fierce at the same time,” I said.
He didn’t answer.
Warner lifted his hand from the gearshift to caress my knee. “Kandy texted,” he said. “They know we’re coming.”
“Yeah.” I laughed wryly, straightening in my seat. “But is knowing better or worse?”
“If this is where the far seer told you to go, then this is where we go,” Drake said. A reprimand edged his tone.
“I’m heading there, aren’t I?”
“Yes. But you question everything, warrior’s daughter. Fate guides our feet.”
“Well, I’m glad that’s so clear to you.”
Drake snorted. “It is to you as well. Though you clearly get some sort of perverse joy out of pretending otherwise.”
“That’s enough.” Warner lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror, glaring at the fledgling guardian being sulky in the back seat. “You are with us only because the dowser has a generous heart. Either you’re a distraction or a support. And a distraction will get Jade hurt. Pick one so I know what to do with you.”
“My apologies,” Drake murmured. “I just don’t like this sense of uncertainty. Jade’s questions exacerbate that.”
“Talking things out is a valuable tool,” I said. “So is chocolate. Eat the rest of yours.”
“But then it will be gone. You taught me to savor.”
“There are times to savor and times to consume.”
Drake snapped a piece from his bar and popped the chocolate in his mouth.
Ahead of us, Henry came to a stop at a fork in the road. The headlights of the Escalade lit up a road sign: “Westport — 9 miles.”
I rolled my window down a few inches. Though I could faintly hear the crashing surf ahead of us, I couldn’t see the shoreline.
Henry turned right.
Warner eased on the gas to follow, rolling through the stop sign.
“The last official record placed the population of Westport at two thousand and ninety-nine,” Drake said. He’d sat up as we rolled to a stop, and was now leaning forward between the front seats. “It’s located on a peninsula, which is supposedly the farthest west we can go and still be on the mainland of the United States. Its public marina is the largest on the outer coast of the United States’ Pacific Northwest. And it houses a large commercial fishing fleet, as well as several recreational charter fishing vessels.”
“Thanks, Drakepedia,” I said. “Did Kandy let you borrow her phone? You know your magic is going to ruin it.”
“Her iPad. And I Google fast,” he said smugly. “Swift and indomitable, as is the wind that stirs the waves breaking on yon seashore.”
Warner and I burst out laughing.
“What?” Drake asked. “Kandy says I need to practice being inscrutable.”
“Guardian poet.” I giggled.
“Actually, that’s Qiuniu’s job,” Drake said.
I looked from Warner to him, cranking my neck in my surprise. “Sorry, the healer is a poet?”
He nodded. “Poetry, music, the written word.”
“That’s why his healing magic is accompanied by music?”
“Excuse me?” Warner asked archly. “Are you saying you hear music when the healer kisses you?”
Grinning madly at Warner’s sarcasm, I countered, “You were the one who swooned in his arms earlier.”
“Yeah,” Drake said. “That’s what makes him so dreamy.”
I lost it, laughing so hard that my stomach hurt. Warner joined me, filling the vehicle with his tasty magic and deep-bellied guffaws.
“What?” Drake said, aghast. “Haoxin says so!”
The engine of the SUV sputtered, then died.
Silence fell as the vehicle slowly rolled to a stop.
“We killed the car,” I whispered.
More hysterics ensued. If it was inappropriate to wallow in our circumstances, laughing was really the only thing we could do.
Red taillights lit up ahead of us. Henry had just figured out we were no longer following him.
“I really hope it isn’t a long walk from here,” Drake mused.
I wiped tears from my face, struggling to get myself under control. The road was narrow enough that Henry had to execute a three-point turn in order to head back toward us.
“I think the beta might make me sit on her lap,” the fledgling continued. “Not the other way around as it should be. I’m twice her size, but she’s pretty dominant.”
I choked, still weeping with mirth.
“I don’t think it will come to that, fledgling,” Warner said with a straight face. He turned the key in the ignition. The engine started, then settled into a gentle purr.
Henry slowly drove by us. His and Kandy’s faces were pale blurs in the front and back driver’s-side windows of the black SUV.
Warner lifted his hand, waving as they passed.
Henry turned around once more, then passed us to take the lead again. As he slid by, the back door of our SUV opened. Kett slipped into the back seat beside Drake.
Warner hit the gas before the vampire had fully closed his door.
“Cool,” Drake said.
“Show-off,” I groused. “Did you even bother telling Henry you were leaving while you were moving?”
Kett settled in with a shrug.
“You probably scared him.”
“If the sorcerer wants to run with the West Coast North American Pack, he’ll need to get used to being scared,” Kett said coolly.
“I don’t think he was bitten by choice,” Drake said.
The vampire slowly turned his ice-blue gaze on the earnest fledgling. A slow smile spread across his face. “Being there was his choice.”
Drake tilted his head, considering the vampire’s logic. Then he nodded, grinning.
Warner snorted.
“I’ll step out as we move through Westport,” Kett said.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
“For a moment.”
“Not a fan of oracles?”
Kett’s grin was more a flash of teeth than a smile, but he didn’t offer an answer.
Warner was eyeing the vampire in the rearview mirror. “We don’t have time to … monitor you, Kettil.”
“I’ll endeavor to not kill anyone, as always.”
“Excuse me?” Though I wasn’t totally following the conversation, I was uncomfortably aware that they might be talking about feeding. Specifically, Kett’s dining requirements.
The vampire drummed his long, pale fingers on the armrest to his left. The uncharacteristically nervous movement was a blur in the moonlight. “I find the mode of transport and the proximity of the shapeshifters chafing, alchemist. No more than that.”
I nodded, turning back as the first buildings of the town of Westport appeared on either side of the road before us. Most of the single and two-storey structures appeared to be business oriented, and were all long-closed for the evening. At first glance, the tidy seaside town appeared more functional than quaint. Maybe the fishing that Drake’s Googling had highlighted took precedence over tourism.
“I have less need of sustenance lately,” Kett murmured.
I didn’t look back at the vampire. If he was in a sharing mood, it was better to let him talk than to question him. But when he didn’t continue, I spoke. “Since London?”
“More since Peru.”
“What happened in Peru?” Drake asked.
“I … I bit the rogue dragon,” Kett said. “It was … ill advised.”
Warner laughed under his breath, like he sensed how that was the closest the vampire would ever come to admitting a mistake.
“You drank dragon blood?” Drake asked. “And you still … function?”
Kett didn’t answer. But I knew — based on the past few hours we’d spent together and his absence over the previous year — that the answer might be a question of what his continuing to function actually entailed. He had mentioned some sort of pending decision during our conversation on the jet. And I got the feeling he was being forced to make it.
“The oracle is young, yes?” Kett said, ignoring Drake’s question. “I thought it best if she wasn’t … inundated.”
Kett was a collector. I would have thought he’d be eager to meet Rochelle. But maybe he wasn’t all that interested in the possibility of coming face to face with his future. That made two of us.
“Jade can open the conversation,” Warner said in agreement.
“Rochelle knows me too,” Drake said.
“Also, Audrey isn’t going to stay behind,” I said.
“We three will set up a perimeter,” Warner said. “If we’re lucky, Shailaja will show her face, and this will be all over quickly.”
“After we find Chi Wen,” Drake added.
I glanced at Warner. I was still worried about the far seer’s state of mind — and about what finding him altered might do to Drake.
The sentinel nodded imperceptibly.
“As you say,” Kett murmured. He sounded unsettled, though. Almost fretful. I was pretty sure that no one but me or maybe Kandy could pick up the different nuances in his cool, poised tone.
I reached my hand back through the seats. Kett brushed his fingers against my palm without looking away from his window. Drake wrapped his warm hand around both of ours, creating an odd — but definitely not awful — peppermint and honeyed-almond sandwich.
“I’m glad you survived, vampire,” Drake said. “Thank you for your aid and friendship.”
Kett looked surprised. Then he lifted the corners of his lips in a smile of acknowledgement. “I am at your disposal … as you require.”
Satisfied, Drake released us.
A comfortable silence fell as we rolled through the tiny town of Westport. A few restaurants and a gas station were open, but the single main street was quiet. Sleepy. Which I wouldn’t mind being for the next twelve hours or so.
Beyond the final buildings in the main section of town, Henry flicked on the left-hand indicator of the Escalade, then turned. We followed, moving closer to the sound of the surf.
“No other guardian is friends with a vampire,” Drake said conversationally. “Especially not an elder of the Conclave. There is strength in this diversity.”
I grinned a little, catching Warner doing the same out of the corner of my eye.
“Indeed,” Kett said. His tone was as cool as ever without any hint of sarcasm at the fledgling’s suggested alliance. But then, ancient vampires played the long game.
I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Kett plotted centuries ahead. Though the fact that those centuries could possibly now include me — according to Suanmi — still unnerved me. My whole life, I’d been expecting nothing but an ordinary, mortal existence.
Of course, I still had to survive the next confrontation with the rabid koala to have any kind of existence at all.
A vintage-1970s Brave Winnebago was parked beside a tiny cabin on a sparsely treed acreage, about a dozen feet from a long, narrow, gray-sand beach. Well, at least it was gray in the moonlight. Momentarily mesmerized by the reflection of the full moon shimmering across the dark surf of the open coast, I climbed out of the SUV.
The age of the RV was easy to estimate, just based upon the exterior color scheme of cream, orange, and brown. Though what I could see of the cabin windows were dark, the Brave was ablaze with light. It was an easy guess that Rochelle and Beau were pulling power from the cabin but staying in the RV. All the curtains had been drawn throughout the midsection of the Brave. I wondered if they drew them every evening, or if this was a reaction to our impending arrival.
Henry had parked the black Escalade in a spot behind the cabin, though it was a tight fit between the building and the large oak tree that backed it. It was the type of tree that might have held a tire swing at one point. I wondered how long Henry had owned the property, and whether or not it was a family cabin.
Warner had parked twenty feet or so back on the dirt drive, pretty much blocking the exit. I imagined that was a deliberate choice. Kett was already gone, having slipped silently out of the Escape five minutes before we’d arrived, with the main street of Westport still in the rearview mirror.
Interior lights illuminated the neighboring homes through the sparse pine and fir trees on either side of the lot. The houses were near enough that I could see a family of four watching TV in the living room to the north, and smoke curling upward from the chimney to the south. But they weren’t so near that the neighbors would hear or see anything untoward transpire. Unless they were Adepts, of course. And I seriously hoped to avoid anything transpiring.
However, untoward things tended to happen around the oracle and me. Hell, bloody and nasty things tended to happen around me and any other Adept.
Pine needles and dry sand crunched underneath my feet, but none of the stealthy shapeshifters, the dragons, or the sorcerer made a sound. I suspected Henry employed magic on his loafers to gain the effect.
Warner and Drake melted into the darkness to case the area, while Kandy and I paused beside an empty firepit about a dozen feet from the Brave’s side door, closer to the beach than the cabin.
Audrey crossed toward the RV, lifting her hand to knock. Henry hovered a few feet back from her.
“Henry’s family owns the lot?” I asked Kandy. “There aren’t any discernible wards on the cabin … or the RV.”
The green-haired werewolf shrugged, keeping her eye on Henry. He had lifted his gaze to the moonlit sky above the crashing surf.
“Problem, sorcerer?” Kandy’s voice rang out through the dark night, causing Audrey to pivot away from the door.
Henry shook his head. Then he shook it again and grinned. “Nah.”
A large shadow percolating with dark-chocolate magic landed silently on top of the Brave, which dipped under its weight. There, it perched over Audrey, mimicking a watchful gargoyle.
For a split second, I thought it was Desmond’s magic I was tasting. Then I caught the hint of cayenne pepper.
Beau.
Not knowing if I was witnessing some sort of shapeshifter game or not, I could only watch as Audrey turned, ready for an attack, seconds before Beau dropped on top of her. In his massive double-fanged, orange-pelted half-beast/half-human form, he was easily three times the size of the beta. I’d never seen him in either his tiger or his half-form, and both abilities were unusual. Werewolves were the dominant species among the shapeshifters. Big cats were rare, and tigers even more so.
Audrey intentionally fell backward, flipping Beau over her head and rolling both of them closer to Henry. The beta’s magic rose up as she transformed. Her terrifying, seven-foot-tall, dark-gray-furred half-beast form was apparently constructed solely out of muscle, tooth, and claw. Audrey’s expensive outfit wasn’t going to come out of this looking so perfect anymore.
As they tussled, the two of them chortled a cacophony of absolutely dreadful monster noises, trying unsuccessfully to pin each other.
There was a more immediate issue, though.
Henry, who was still standing between the wrestling monsters and us, was shaking. Moaning, he tore his fevered gaze from the growling mass of teeth and claws to stare up at the full moon.
“Kandy …” I breathed.
“I see him,” she said curtly. “Henry?” She padded closer to the moonstruck sorcerer.
I stepped back.
Henry lost whatever battle he was fighting in his mind. His skin split — tooth and claw and hair ripped through his human visage. His jacket and jeans ripped through at the seams. His precious cowboy hat tumbled away as he threw his head back, howling in pain and frustration.
“Ah, shit,” Kandy muttered. Her shapeshifter magic rolled up and around her while she hurriedly started tugging off her sneakers, leggings, and T-shirt.
Henry attacked her before she could finish undressing — or transforming. And there was nothing playful about the claws he raked across her. Though he’d been aiming for her ribs, she spun away from him to take the vicious blow across her back.
Audrey tossed Beau aside. He tumbled past the cabin and the SUV parked behind it, disappearing into the more densely wooded area at the back of the acreage. He snapped a couple of good-sized trees in half as he went. Then, scrambling, he leaped forward to catch them before they toppled into the cabin or the RV.
Henry lifted his bloody claws to his wolfed-out face. He licked them lovingly, moaning as he did so.
Kandy transformed, shredding her remaining clothing and filling my senses with bittersweet dark chocolate and ripe red berries.
Henry lifted his snout to the sky and howled. It was a terrifying, hair-raising cry full of anger and torment.
I was wrong. The neighbors were definitely going to hear that.
Drake stepped into my peripheral vision.
“Let the shapeshifters handle him, fledgling.” Kett’s cool voice sounded out from the deep shadows beyond the driveway behind me.
Audrey wrapped her hairy, muscular arms around Henry, pinning him. He struggled, thrashing and growling. Then Kandy stepped up to lock her gaze to his. In her half-beast form, she was taller than the bitten werewolf by half a head.
A terrible, rippling snarl emanated from her misaligned jaws.
Henry pressed his ears back against his head, struggling to hold Kandy’s gaze. Then his snarling turned into a whimper, and he dropped his chin to his chest.
Audrey released him. He fell to his knees.
“He needs to run,” Audrey said. Her words were perfectly formed, though harsh and guttural. The beta was exceedingly skilled at wielding her shapeshifter magic. According to Kandy, talking while in half-form was difficult to master. There was something tricky about keeping human vocal cords intact while transforming.
Kandy’s answering snarl sounded like a negative response. But then she and Audrey both swiftly transformed again, taking on their wolf forms. Kandy was the smaller of the two, and her pelt was a lighter gray than Audrey’s. They would blend in better in their animal forms, though it seemed doubtful that Westport had many wolves roaming its beaches. However, even among the trees, the werewolf was going to be a little obvious.
Audrey leaped over Henry and disappeared into the woods. Kandy circled the crouched werewolf, then slammed her shoulder into him, pushing him after Audrey.
He followed the beta, with Kandy literally nipping at his heels.
“He’s embarrassed,” Drake said. “Embarrassed about being bitten?”
“No,” I said. “Embarrassed about not being able to control his magic.”
“But it’s new to him. He’ll learn.”
“He’s an adult. He has expectations of himself. Being … clumsy makes us feel stupid.”
Drake looked doubtful, but then shrugged his shoulders.
Kett’s peppermint magic moved away behind us. The vampire was tracking the shapeshifters from a distance. Or maybe he was simply patrolling the area.
Drake followed Kett back through the woods. Warner appeared on the dirt driveway just as the fledgling guardian was swallowed into the darkness on the far side of the acreage.
I smirked at him over my shoulder. The two of them couldn’t have planned the transition better.
The sentinel grinned at me but didn’t approach, choosing instead to lean against the front of the Ford Escape that was blocking the drive.
I crossed to the Brave. Beau was back in his human form, wearing low-slung black sweatpants and giving me an eyeful of his gorgeous mocha-colored, well-muscled chest. Well, as much as I could discern by moonlight. With the green of his shapeshifter magic overriding the normal bright blue of his eyes, he contemplated the sentinel over my shoulder while guarding the door to the Brave.
“Jade,” he said, acknowledging me but clearly not happy about it.
“Beau.” I hit him with one of my blinding smiles.
He smirked, but then looked upset. “Was that my fault? With Henry?”
“I think the sight of the moon was already swaying him,” I answered carefully.
“But I put him over?”
“Probably.”
He nodded, but didn’t move away from the door.
“I’m here to see Rochelle.”
“I got that.”
“Do I have to go through you?” I said it as a joke, but it fell flat. Unfortunately, when I seriously outclassed someone magically, just about anything coming out of my mouth sounded like a threat.
“Who’s the guy?” Beau asked, nodding over my shoulder at the sentinel glowering at him from the driveway.
“Warner,” I answered. “Kett, a friend of ours, and Drake are walking the perimeter.”
“The vampire and Chi Wen’s apprentice?”
“Rochelle’s expecting them?”
“Not exactly. I’m just putting stuff together,” Beau said. “Is Warner a dragon too?”
“Yep.”
“His magic smells different than Drake’s.”
“His magic is different. But we mean you no harm.”
“But you expected to be followed? Kandy texted that we should be ready to be mobile.”
Beau was young — a few years my junior — yet he was crazy perceptive.
“Yeah,” I said, sorry to admit it. “Maybe not, but …”
“But.” Beau huffed out a sigh. “I’ll get us unhooked.”
He stepped away from the door. “Rochelle’s waiting on you. She …” He shook his head at whatever caution he’d been about to voice. “Tell her I’m taking care of the Brave.”
I nodded.
He crossed around the front of the RV toward the cabin.
Then, dreading every step, I reached up and unlatched the door before me. Willingly climbing into an RV with an oracle waiting for me was seriously low on my to-do list.
More accurately, it was seriously high on my never-do list.
Rochelle was seated facing the door at the far side of a tiny, bright-green dinette table situated on the passenger’s side of the Brave, across from the kitchen area.
The slight-framed oracle was clad in her typical uniform of a black hoodie, worn black jeans, and white-framed, bug-eyed tinted glasses. Oddly, though, only the lower five inches of her hair was dyed the jet black it had been the first time I met her. Her two-inch roots appeared to be pure white, with one full, thick streak of white running the length of her long wedge cut, from her center part to her blunt tips.
Rochelle’s hair made me wonder about the far seer’s hair. I’d assumed that Chi Wen wore the visage of an old man by choice. All the guardian dragons appeared capable of halting their ageing process. I hadn’t even thought about his white hair being connected to his oracle or seer magic.
I’d seen a trace of white in Rochelle’s hair after her vision in Portland and just hadn’t connected it back to her oracle magic. I’d been rather distracted at the time, helping her sneak away and being pissy with Desmond. So did oracle magic wear on the Adepts who wielded it? Differently than a witch’s or sorcerer’s magic?
The thought was disconcerting, especially when factored in with Chi Wen inexplicably tagging along with Shailaja. Was the far seer losing it? Did seeing the future take a serious toll on an Adept’s mind?
Though Rochelle’s face was relaxed, her hands were clenched over a large, thick sketchbook.
I’d been staring at her for too long. “Hey,” I said as I stepped fully into the RV. “Rochelle.”
“Jade.” She lifted her hand up to touch the thick rose-gold chain that rested at her collarbone. The remainder of her necklace — along with the massive raw diamond that I knew hung from it — was hidden underneath her hoodie. The magic of the necklace and Rochelle’s oracle power tasted of freshly harvested apples — tart and juicy on first bite, but sweet and complexly flavored underneath.
“May I come in?”
“Please do.”
I reached back to shut the door behind me, aware that I was scaring the crap out of Rochelle but having no idea how not to do so.
“Beau said to tell you he was taking care of the Brave.”
Rochelle nodded stiffly, but didn’t respond further. Maybe mentioning that my uninvited visit was going to force them to move wasn’t a great lead-in.
I stood a few feet away, smiling as I kept my hands in plain view. When that only upped the tension that was already threatening to overwhelm the small space, I opted for a benign topic of conversation. Of course, all I really had to talk about was cupcakes, chocolate, and magic.
“There’s an apple festival at UBC in the fall. Usually in October.” I crossed to squeeze into the dinette across from Rochelle. Living full time in the Brave would be rather confining for me, but it apparently suited the oracle perfectly.
“Yeah?”
“They offer over sixty varieties of apples. You know, for tasting.” The RV was warm. I unbuttoned my silk jacket. “I usually just hit the marketplace. People bring toy wagons … you know those red plastic ones? I think they convert into a bench seat? That’s how many bags of apples they buy. I’ve been known to drop over a hundred dollars myself.”
“I can’t taste my own magic,” Rochelle said, unimpressed.
I faltered, aware that I was rambling. The tiny girl — woman — across the table from me made me nervous. I could probably crush her without really trying. Well, if I sat on her.
“I’m here about the far seer,” I said.
“About? Not for?”
“No … at least I don’t think so. Jesus. I don’t know. Maybe this is some sort of weird quest he’s sent me on.”
“And you need to know if I’ve seen anything relevant.”
I nodded.
She spread her hands across her sketchbook.
I flinched. I couldn’t help it.
“So do you have any sketches of the far seer?” I asked optimistically. I was seriously hoping to do an end run around getting blasted with oracle magic.
“No.”
She removed her glasses, carefully placing them to the side, then lifted her oddly pale-gray eyes to meet my gaze.
I tried to smile. The expression felt instantly false, so I dropped it.
“I … I didn’t bring a gift,” I said, not knowing I was going to say it until I voiced the thought.
“That’s okay. I don’t really need anything.”
She turned her left hand palm up, then slid it halfway across the table toward me. Charcoal dusted her fingertips. I wondered if she’d been drawing before we arrived, or whether the tint was permanent.
“No,” I said. “It’s … proper. A formal exchange.” I lifted my gaze from her hand to her necklace. “I’ll fortify your necklace. As I promised in Portland.”
Rochelle instantly withdrew her hand, touching her necklace protectively.
“You won’t have to take it off.”
Relief flushed her face momentarily, but she quickly replaced it with a scowl. “Not necessary,” she muttered.
“I can’t reach properly over the table. Come stand here.” I swung my legs off the edge of the bench seat so that Rochelle could stand before me without anything in between us. Then I waited for the oracle to make her decision.
She slowly straightened from behind the table, keeping one of her hands curled around her necklace and one pressed over the sketchbook.
“It won’t hurt. You probably won’t even feel it.”
“I can feel you. Before you even entered the Brave. I can feel your energy. Your magic.”
That was surprising. I didn’t know oracles could sense magic that way. I closed my eyes, giving my neck a roll. Then I inhaled to center myself, coaxing my necklace to absorb and dampen my magic. I’d never thought to do so around anyone else before, and I wasn’t certain how successful I’d be at it.
Energy thrummed through the chain currently twined three times around my neck. I opened my eyes. “Better?”
Rochelle nodded, stepping over to stand before me. Her fingers hesitated at the zipper of her hoodie. “What do you mean by ‘fortify?’ ”
“What do you want?”
“Can you hide my magic? Like you just did with yours?”
“No. I don’t think so, anyway. I think you have to learn to do that yourself. But I think your necklace would already be receptive to that.”
“Learn how? You just closed your eyes and breathed.”
“I … um … Well, I’m not sure it works the same for you. It might be part of my alchemist powers. But I think it’s a matter of focal points. You know, grounding your energy within the energy of the necklace.”
Rochelle nodded thoughtfully. Her gaze was cast somewhere around my left shoulder, but I didn’t think she was treating me warily, as she would a shapeshifter. She was simply thinking about her magic.
“What fortifications can you offer, then?” she asked.
“I can make sure no one but you can remove the necklace. I can lay protection spells on it so that it helps deflect any malicious magic flung your way.”
Rochelle shifted her feet. “But you can’t take away the visions.”
Something in her tone put me on edge. “I wouldn’t.”
“But you could,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question.
“So you’ve seen? In the past or the future?”
“The past, I think. With the black witch on the beach.”
I nodded, not sure what to do about Rochelle knowing my secret. Though the knowledge that I could drain the magic from an Adept really wasn’t that much of a secret anymore, now that Shailaja had my mangled katana. The oracle probably knew a lot of things about me that I would rather she didn’t.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” I said carefully. “I won’t harm you.”
“I know. But if I asked?”
I shook my head vehemently. “No. I would never steal your magic. I’ll never do it again. I’m not certain I was wholly aware I was doing so the last time.”
Rochelle looked at me for a moment. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. The only times she appeared truly engaged were when Beau was around, and when she was wielding her oracle magic.
“I’ll show you what I know,” she finally said. “What I’ve seen of you. And you’ll lay protection spells on my necklace so that no one can take the chain from me or harm me with magic.”
“I can’t guarantee the second part. I can’t block against specific spells, but I can create a shield of sorts. A personal ward.”
“I understand your stipulations.”
I laughed. “Who have you been making deals with?”
Rochelle stiffened her shoulders. “It’s important to be clear on our terms.”
“Okay.”
She reached for her necklace.
“Leave it on. I’ll use your magic to tie it to you.”
She bit her lip, then unzipped her hoodie.
I reached up to place my forefinger and thumb on the chain, leaving my other fingers splayed on her upper rib cage and collarbone.
I smiled. “I’m going to need some apple pie after this,” I said jokingly.
Rochelle nodded, completely serious. “I’ll warm some up for you. It’s not homemade, but Beau liked it.”
I laughed.
Rochelle cracked a rare smile.
Then I set to work on her necklace, tangling her magic with the magic already bound to the gold and the diamond. Smoothing it all with my own magic.
I informed the necklace that it belonged solely to Rochelle and no one else. But I got some sort of feedback. “Huh,” I muttered. “Has anyone ever tried to take the necklace?”
“No.”
“I doubt they could have. When I tuned it to your oracle magic, I guess I already created that protection. Or it was inherent to the necklace.”
“It was my mother’s.”
Right. I’d known that. Rochelle’s mother had died — while possibly wearing this necklace — at the moment of her birth. I wondered if those coinciding events had magical ramifications as well.
I turned my attention back to my alchemy, tugging magic from my own necklace and channeling it through my fingers into Rochelle’s chain. Then I blended it all, fusing it together to create a magical shield tied to the oracle.
“Your eyes are glowing,” Rochelle murmured. Enamored, she brushed her fingers through my curls and got them tangled. “And your hair. Like you glow in my visions.”
I lifted my hands away from the necklace, disengaging myself from Rochelle’s magic.
She looked startled, as if only just realizing she was touching me. Hastily, she withdrew her hand. “Okay. My turn.”
“Sure,” I said, attempting to not grind my teeth at the thought of having her oracle magic invading my mind.
Rochelle zipped up her hoodie, hiding her necklace. Then she spread her feet slightly as if to anchor herself. “I’m still practicing,” she said apologetically.
“Delightful.”
She touched her fingertips to my forehead.
Nothing happened.
She pressed a tiny bit harder.
Still nothing.
“I … I don’t understand.”
I sighed. “I do.” Casting my dowser senses outside, I tasted honey-roasted almonds more distinctly than black forest cake. I raised my voice slightly. “Drake?”
A brief murmured exchange occurred outside the door between Beau and Drake. Then the fledgling guardian opened the door and climbed into the RV.
“Hey, Rochelle,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
The smile she offered him was fleeting but genuine.
I took my necklace off and held it out to Drake.
Rochelle stepped to the side, allowing Drake space to kneel before me. I looped the chain with its wedding rings around his neck twice. Then he rose.
“Should I step out?”
“I think so.”
Drake flashed Rochelle another toothy grin, then left as quickly as he arrived.
“Try again,” I said.
Rochelle swallowed. Then she touched my forehead tentatively. The taste of apple intensified in my mouth.
“Be specific,” I said. “Just show me exactly what you think is relevant.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
Then the oracle electrocuted my brain.
Okay. It wasn’t quite that bad. But she did shove a series of images at me so quickly that I couldn’t see or hear anything else.
“Jesus!” I cried out without meaning to.
Rochelle gasped, removing her hands and curling them into fists.
“Just do it, oracle,” I growled as I squeezed my eyes shut.
Her cool fingers touched my temples. Then I was standing ankle-deep in the snow on a smooth stone pathway, looking at a doorway carved into a mountain.
I’d been there before.
“This is wrong,” I said, realizing that it was the time of day that was wrong as I spoke. I’d assumed I was looking at the door to the temple of the centipede, but the mountain before me was illuminated by evening light. It was too dark to have been that day in Peru. The snow was too plentiful as well. And as the vision grew clearer, I saw that the door was carved into the granite, not simply outlined by glowing runes.
Leaves and flowers were embossed into the stone of the doorway, which was easily fifteen feet high and eight feet wide. I couldn’t see a handle or hinges.
I blinked. Then I found myself looking at Rochelle, who was chewing on her lower lip.
“Stop doing that,” I said. “You’ll get chapped.”
She narrowed her eyes at me grumpily.
I grinned. It was better if I annoyed her. I’d take that over scaring her any day. “Do you know where that door is?”
She shook her head.
“Do you have a picture?”
She nodded as she tugged a folded piece of thick paper out of her hoodie pocket.
“You knew I needed it?”
“Yeah, but I thought I might pick up more, or even something different, if I tried to read you as well. But … you know. I’m still practicing.”
I took the paper from her, holding it by the edges and carefully easing it open. It was a detailed charcoal sketch of what she’d just shown me. She must have torn it out of her sketchbook, then carefully trimmed off the ragged edge.
“I know these leaves and flowers,” I said.
Rochelle reached for her sketchbook on the dinette, but I was already digging through my satchel for the dragonskin tattoo. Maybe if I compared the sketch to the map, I could work out the location of the door.
“Wait,” Rochelle said. “That’s … um … that’s not all.”
I chose my next words carefully. “I only want to know things that are relevant. Things connected to the far seer. Or at least things that will help me find the final instrument of assassination, and therefore draw the maniac who’s kidnapped the far seer to me.”
Rochelle’s eyes widened. “Kidnapped? The far seer? Who could kidnap the far seer?”
Damn. I hadn’t meant to mention the kidnapping part. But Rochelle being in my head had severely rattled me.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, though my words came out more pissy than soothing. “I’m sorry. I also could be wrong about the kidnapping part. It’s just that this …” I waved my hand in the direction of her sketchbook. “This weirds me out.”
“I know. You don’t want to know if you’re going to die.”
“Who would?”
“But if you did, would you run? Wouldn’t you try to change your destiny?”
I forced a smile, feeling the edges of the sketch I held crumpling underneath my fingers. “What fun would that be?”
“Be flippant all you want, Jade. But I know you. I know why you do what you do. I know you believe. You believe you can only do what you’re meant to do.”
“Yes, I believe. Will I fail?”
Rochelle shrugged. “I’m not sure what failure would look like in this case.”
“Wouldn’t me dying be a failure?”
“I don’t think so. And neither do you.”
I laughed. Rochelle was laying claim to my soul. And laughing was all I could do.
“I don’t see death …” The oracle whispered the words as the white of her magic rolled across her eyes. “But … I do see … rebirth.”
“That sounds worse.”
“Yes.”
Great. Lovely. Fan-freaking-tastic.
“There’s something else. Something I can’t see beyond. Something hidden from me, behind a veil of magic, maybe.”
“Delightful.”
“I see a … golden fire …”
“Golden fire?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m going to be reborn through this golden fire?”
“No.”
“That’s clear, then. Have you at least got a timeline?”
“I’m trying my best.”
Guilt stopped my snark in its tracks.
“I owe you, Jade,” Rochelle said quietly. “For fixing my mother’s necklace. For sending Chi Wen.”
“No one sends a guardian anywhere,” I murmured.
“Whatever,” Rochelle said. “But I’d just as soon have you out of my head, you know?”
“Sure.”
“The golden fire washes you away. It burns the vision of you up. And I can’t see anything beyond. I can’t even sketch it. It’s … too much.”
I just stared at the oracle. “I can’t do anything with that.”
“All you can do is endure.”
I shivered. Rochelle was echoing my own thoughts, from all the terrible hours I’d spent staring at her sketches in Chi Wen’s quarters in the dragon nexus. It was disturbing.
“There’s more …” Rochelle swallowed her next words. She was rubbing her charcoal-dusted fingers again, as if soothing herself.
“Who is it?” I whispered. “Who’s going to die? And can I stop it?”
Rochelle looked startled. “I don’t see anyone dying. Any of your friends, I mean.”
“Because you don’t see them at all?”
She placed her hand on her sketchbook, then gazed out the dark window of the Brave. I hadn’t noticed from the outside, but she had pulled the curtains open at some point. Maybe when Henry was losing it. “No … I’ve seen them. All of them … and one other.”
Rochelle’s hesitation was becoming disconcerting.
“Who?” I said quietly.
She lifted her gray-eyed gaze to me, then stared at my right hip where my knife was invisibly sheathed.
“Don’t be mad,” she whispered.
“I will be mad,” I said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be mad.”
Rochelle nodded, then swallowed hard. She lifted her eyes from my knife and resolutely locked her gaze to mine.
“I would never hurt you,” I said.
“Of course not.”
“Who, then? Beau?”
Rochelle shook her head, then she flipped open the book to a sketch similar to the one I held. Except I was in this drawing, standing before the leaf-and-flower-carved door. She carefully lifted the edge of the next page and turned it.
I stepped closer to peer down at the newly revealed sketch, which resembled a wider-angle view of the previous image. I was standing in front of the door as before, but five other figures occupied the smudged shadows around me.
“Warner,” I murmured, immediately identifying him by his broad shoulders, then by the curved blade he held at the ready.
“Is that his name?” Rochelle asked quietly. She turned the page to reveal a detailed sketch of the sentinel’s strong profile.
Despite my anxiety, my heart did a little dance at the sight. There was something utterly titillating about seeing him captured in stillness on the page. I could stare at him forever.
Rochelle flipped back to the main drawing.
“Drake,” I said, pointing at the figure positioned just behind my right shoulder.
Rochelle nodded, flipping the pages forward to a detailed sketch of the fledgling guardian. He looked older in smudged charcoal than he did in real life. His Asian features were highlighted in black and white.
Rochelle started to flip back again, but I touched the top of her hand to stop her.
She flinched as if I’d shocked her, though I felt nothing.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “But we don’t have much time. Perhaps you should just rip off the Band-Aid?”
The oracle nodded, squared her shoulders, and flipped a page.
“Kandy.”
Next page.
“Kett.”
She hesitated. Then, with her hand shaking, she revealed the fifth shadowed figure.
Son of a bitch.
Blackwell.
“I’ve texted him,” Rochelle murmured. “He’s on his way.”
I was spinning away from the tiny green-topped table before she voiced her last words. My knife appeared eagerly in my hand. I busted through the door of the Brave, breaking something in the process.
Drake and Warner were standing beside the firepit, overseeing Beau, who was building a fire with paper and kindling. They spun toward me as I leaped from the RV.
My feet hit the ground as the taste of buttered baked potato and sour cream set my mouth watering. Though I hadn’t tasted it in over two years, the magic of Blackwell’s ruby amulet was unmistakable. And where it manifested, Blackwell appeared. The teleportation power of the amulet was an awesome trick, and with the portals out of order, I was more than a little jealous of the sorcerer’s prized possession. That wasn’t going to stop me from trying to skewer him, though.
Tracking the amulet’s magic, I executed two more quick steps to the left, pressing my knife to Blackwell’s neck just as the sorcerer magically appeared in the middle of the clearing.
“Stop!” Rochelle screamed from behind me.
Blackwell’s dark eyes widened. His clean-shaven face was unusually gaunt, but he wore his typical ensemble of tailored dark suit and white dress shirt. The sorcerer’s taste in clothing was even more expensive than Audrey’s or Kett’s, right down to his Italian-leather wingbacks. Not that I was currently checking out his shoes.
Before I could press my advantage, the magic of the amulet concealed underneath his dress shirt flared again. Blackwell disappeared.
“You need him,” Rochelle shouted.
I spun around, glaring at the oracle, who was hanging out of the busted door of the Brave. It was hanging half off its hinges. A wash of regret momentarily distracted me. I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining anyone’s home.
Drake and Warner fanned out from the bonfire just as it flared into flame. Their movement called my attention back to the hunt.
Magic bloomed near Rochelle. I lunged. The oracle awkwardly flung herself down the stairs of the RV in a crazy attempt to block my attack.
The sorcerer appeared behind her.
I slid to a stop.
Blackwell scanned the area behind and above me.
“Hiding behind a child, hey, asshole?” I sneered.
“Hey!” Rochelle cried. “I’m, like, practically twenty-one!”
“Warrior’s daughter.” Blackwell offered me a thin-lipped smile.
“How do I need him?” I growled at Rochelle.
She shook her head, questioning her words even as she spoke them. “Why would he be there? Do you know where the door is? If I see him with you, then maybe he leads you to it.”
Blackwell laughed mirthlessly.
I eyed him, warring with every instinct that told me to wipe him from the face of the planet now and forever. Then I sheathed my knife and stepped back.
Rochelle let out a shuddering breath.
“How can I be of service, Jade Godfrey?” Blackwell’s smile widened to reveal his teeth.
“Are you sure?” I spoke to the oracle, but without taking my eyes off the evil sorcerer standing behind her.
Rochelle nodded, but it was the utter regret etched across her face that sold it for me. She’d already told me I survived whatever was coming — in whatever form that survival took — so she was concerned she was sacrificing Blackwell.
“Screw it,” I muttered. Then I turned my back on the sorcerer. I needed to walk away or I was going to skewer him.
“Show me, Rochelle.” Blackwell’s tone was muted and kind … and edged with a sick sort of eagerness. “You have sketches, yes?”
Warner and Drake fell into step with me.
“Who is this?” the sentinel asked.
“Some asshole with a death wish.” Pausing my pissy state of stomping away, I turned around and reached up to retrieve my necklace from around Drake’s neck.
The fledgling bent down obligingly.
Warner pivoted to face the Brave, presumably studying Blackwell.
“And we’d better warn Kandy and Audrey that he’s here,” I said. “Or there will be blood.”
Drake nodded, then slipped off into the dark woods.
Gazing up at Warner, I settled my necklace over my collarbone. The sentinel’s moonlit profile was an aching reminder of Rochelle’s sketch. I might have no idea where we were going or what we were getting into, but we’d be there together. There was some comfort in that.
I sighed. “I guess we should patrol.”
Warner brushed his hand against mine. “Drake, Kett, and I will patrol. You get caught up with your BFF.” He nodded toward the cabin behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder just as Kandy emerged from the woods. She was back in human form, clad only in a sports bra and tattered leggings, and grinning manically. Though whether that was from her run in the woods or news of Blackwell’s appearance, I didn’t know.
She jogged over to collect her sneakers and T-shirt, then winked at me as she turned back to dig a change of clothing out of the Escalade. Her hair was still green, though it usually reverted to mousy brown when she transformed. Apparently, she’d spent our year apart honing her shapeshifter skills.
“Go,” Warner said. “Shailaja will send scouts before she shows up. We’ll have warning.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It really is too bad she isn’t an idiot. Crazy, intelligent people are just freaky.”
Warner snorted, then stepped off into the trees behind us to join the honeyed-almond and peppermint magic I could taste already roaming the nearby woods. And I crossed the yard for a much-needed gab session with my best friend.