Chapter 13: Gaia's Resting Place

I step out into my room again, panting in my haste, no time to wonder why the fire brought me here and not directly to the chapel. Perhaps I should fear I've twice now ridden the flame without a destination in mind, but my connection to the blaze inside me is stronger than ever and in it I now fully trust.

But I will trust in no other, at least of my kind, not until I speak to Gaia myself.

It's late, late enough I have the halls of the sanctuary to myself as I rush down the stairs and to the main corridor. I pause at the bottom, mind finally shifting into caution mode, holding me back from simply dashing the distance to the chapel doors and throwing them wide.

The vision felt immediate. But that could mean now, tomorrow, any time in the next twenty-four hours. I must be careful. Surely Gaia's waking will mean a shift in Liander and my grandmother, perhaps for good and perhaps for ill. Either way, I want to reach Gaia myself, before anyone else knows she's awake, so I can ask her directly.

Imagine the arrogance, thinking my Goddess would even care to answer my questions. But if I'm to understand fully this power I carry, if I'm to use my foresight for the good of all, I must hear from her directly what it is I'm meant to do.

My grandmother's interpretations, fed by Liander's needs, are suspect.

I slip into the dining hall, heading for the kitchens. Two servant girls look up, surprised, when I enter, but I grab an apple from a bowl on the wide table near the door and salute them with it. Both smile and go back to the giant mound of bread dough they are kneading. The kitchen's low ceiling catches the scent and makes my stomach growl, but I hurry on, through the giant space, past the bank of stainless steel ovens hot and ready to bake tomorrow morning's bread, and out the servant's door.

The sanctuary is a warren of corridors and linked passages. As a child I spent endless hours wandering them, a practice mostly halted when Liander appeared and moved in full time, and my duties as an Oracle became paramount. While it's true these tunnels and passages were my old haunts, it's been years since I truly explored them, despite what I've led Sibyl to believe. I struggle to remember the way, though the girl I was has no trouble when I finally relax and let her lead. Within a few minutes, I'm easing open a small wooden door behind a heavy tapestry and peeking into the main chapel.

The altar is silent and dark, the stone cover over Gaia's resting place closed. I leave the door ajar and sneak in anyway, flip flops making soft sounds as I pad my way to the altar. I stand over the place where Gaia rests and look down at it, feeling for her. There are protections over the casing, thick and black, tied to sorcery. I feel my grandmother's power in them, but even more so, I feel Liander's. And his isn't autonomous. How odd. Sibyl's magic is separate, encapsulated. But a thread ties Liander to the shields and I feel a pulse of power as I start to pull away.

He's feeding the shielding still? Is that what's weakening him? A moment of guilt I've somehow misunderstood and misjudged him tweaks my conscience. Could it be he's been protecting her with his sorcery all along, and it's been draining him?

But no, I see my error almost immediately as another small pulse of magic exits the shields and runs down the thread. Away from Gaia. And my hands clench at my sides, my jaw aching as my teeth grind together and flames flare in my heart.

He's feeding off her.

I sink to my knees, hands falling to the surface of the stone. How did I miss this? I am an Oracle, a foreseer, supposedly the most powerful in many generations. His deception should have appeared to me. Shouldn't it? If not, what is the point of seeing the future if I can't protect the Goddess who grants me my power?

I should sever the connection. It's my first impulse. Tears splash from my eyes to the granite, shimmering a moment before the rock absorbs them. Does my grandmother know?

Dear Gaia. She must know.

I gasp for breath, rocking back on my heels, fear holding me back. If I sever the connection, if I even attempt it, Liander will know. I have to tell the others, show them first, make them pay attention. Even if that means turning the family against my grandmother.

Aunt Ash. Her face flashes in my mind as I paw the tears from my face. I have to find her. She'll stand with me, I know it.

Just as I rise to run off, heart pounding, chest aching, I feel something stir under the stone. The touch freezes me in place. It's there, under the oozing black of Liander, under the rainbow shielding. I let my flames slip beneath.

And touch her as she sighs. She grips my magic with hers. Massive, ancient, and yet reduced to a breath of power, a faint echo of what once was. She holds me only for an instant, but long enough to prove my vision right.

She's waking. I have no time to lose.

I almost forget to return the way I came. I'm shaking and I'm certain white-faced, a state that would rouse suspicion and questions should I encounter any of my fellow Oracles in the main corridor. I have enough time to catch my breath and rub circulation back into my cheeks as I retreat, though my heart is broken at my revelations. Liander, devouring our Goddess. Once powerful, now reduced. By his feeding? But no, it would take far more than the thin bit of magic he's stealing from her to bring her so low.

I stagger past the edge of the tapestry and head for the kitchen, my power reaching out for Ash even as I jog as best I can in flip flops. I can't feel my aunt anywhere in the sanctuary and curse softly as I stumble over the lintel and into the kitchen. This time I don't bother with subterfuge, ignoring the worried looks from the girls still making bread like the world I've known my whole life isn't shattering around me.

My feet skid as I turn out into the dining hall, brushing noisily past a few chairs before catching my balance, mind still desperately hunting my rebellious aunt. By the time I slide to a halt in the main corridor, I know she's not here and I'm on my own.

I make it five steps, heading for my grandmother's room, confrontation on my mind, when a hand reaches out of the dark and jerks me though a partially open door. I meep a cry of surprise before a second hand clamps over my mouth and pulls me backward. I hear footsteps now, many of them, and low voices talking. The stench hovering around me triggers a memory response just as Rupe turns me around and stuffs me into a closet, slipping silently in behind me. He pulls the door closed almost completely, peeking out through the slit, the tiny shaft of vertical light casting a weird glow on his grinning face, making his eye look transparent.

"Shhh," he hisses, before smothering a giggle behind his hands as his sorcery envelops me in a smothering blanket. My flames whisper to a hush, though images become sharp edged and the barest sounds are amplified. Whatever Rupe has done, he means to hide us while giving us the opportunity to see and hear everything.

I almost balk at being controlled this way. But the sound of the door at the other end of the room opening, and the crisp, angry tone of Liander's voice, tells me I need to stay where I am.

"...certain, master?" That sounds like Kayden.

"Silence, you young fool." Liander is furious, it vibrates in his words, though he keeps his voice down. "I know what I felt." I lean around Rupe, ducking under him to peek out myself. We're in the main study, I realize, the walls lined with the recorded foresights of my people. How ironic. "Go to the altar and make sure she's still contained."

I catch a sliver of a glimpse of Kayden saluting, a pair of young sorcerers leaving my view, clearly following orders. Another of his men joins him as Liander glares at the floor.

"Tell me what you need, my master." Liander's second in command, Paster, can't be more than twenty-five and carries the weight of his duties like a much older man. He even has early gray at the temples of his dark hair, a bald patch growing at the crown, visible when he bows his head.

Liander waves him off, brows drawn together, teeth nibbling at the edge of his mustache. "I'm done waiting for the perfect opportunity." His gloves slap against his leg, velvet robe swinging around his shoulders as he turns to face Paster. "It's time to move on her, to take full control."

Paster visibly swallows. "You've done wonders convincing her," he says, stuttering over his words. "But, considering what we're trying to accomplish, I fear we'll lose her if we push too hard."

"I couldn't care less for the state of her mind or her conscience." Liander's anger burns with its own kind of fire. "I've put too much faith in Sibyl and her damned Oracles, only to fail time and again." It has to be painful for him to admit. "And now the old woman is losing control, we're out of time." Again he slaps his gloves against his leg, this time pacing out of my view. I keep my eyes locked on Paster while my ears follow the tread of Liander's feet over the stone floor. "I need the power the witch controls to regain ground. And this is the only way to do it."

Paster nods quickly, bows. "Of course, master," he says. "We'll tighten the knot at once."

Liander reappears in my view, snarling. "Even with the benefit of foresight," his words rumble from him with a harsh edge like the cut of a knife, "knowing exactly what was coming, that Hayle bitch still manages to find a way around fate." Black ropes coil up from the floor to caress his legs and I flinch knowing some of the power soothing him comes from Gaia. "How does she do it?"

Paster doesn't answer, though my mind burns with fury. This is the final proof I need. He has been manipulating us, using us against Syd and her friends. Against Piers. I hug myself as I watch, though my eyes narrow at the thought of finding a way to defeat Liander and rescue my family from him.

Liander spins in a circle, glaring at the wall not far from where I watch, Rupe hovering over me. "A lot of good owning the Oracles did me." I almost smile at his bitterness, wishing he could see my contempt. Should I burst out, confront him here and now? No, I need the power of my sisters behind me.

He'll pay soon enough for trying to control the future.

"Your success is inevitable, master," Paster says, voice vibrating with belief.

Liander shrugs his shoulders, as though to settle his cloak about him more closely, face composed. "No matter the fools I've had to deal with," he says, "the simple minds of women I've had to endure, the touch of their leader I've borne despite my disgust." If only Sibyl could hear him now. "They still don't understand the true power they possess." He sighs, gusty and frustrated. "No matter. Their magic has served to bolster mine, and I will seize the last of it when the time comes." He gestures to Paster who nods with eagerness while my heart constricts. "Are our people in position?"

Paster's grin is cruel and eager. "The Steam Union will answer your call when you're ready to make your move."

Steam Union. I've heard that term before. Didn't Piers ask me if I was Steam Union once? But who are they?

"Tomorrow night." Liander strides past Paster toward the door, leaving my view again. "Don't fail me."

The door closes, Paster's anxiety showing on his face before he turns and straightens his shoulders. "You heard our master," he says to sorcerers I can't see. "The three of you go to Harvard and lean on her as hard as you dare. But make sure she's ours before dawn."

And then they are all moving, black robes sliding past the crack I see through and gone again, out the door.

I squeak a soft protest as Rupe casually pushes open the closet and steps out into the now empty room. My knees ache from crouching, and I take a moment to stretch them out while my mind whirls. I almost feel burned out, as though I've encountered too much, learned more than my poor brain can handle in a very short time.

When I look up, I find Rupe grinning at me, one side of his face morphing from deformed wolf muzzle and back again, his half-bald pointed ear the last thing to retreat.

"Almost time now," he sing-songs the words, dancing in a circle. "Syd's going to get what's coming to her."

Before I can stop him, ask him questions I'm sure he won't answer, Rupe dashes from the room and disappears, leaving me there to shake and wonder.

***