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Authors: Deborah Cooke

BOOK: Blazing the Trail
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In the same instant, a shape became visible in the haze of color around the child, a shape other than the child’s own shape.

Superimposed on the shape of the child—or maybe coexisting with it—was the shape of a great golden cat.

The women gasped with relief and pleasure.

Meagan caught her breath. “She’s a puma!” she whispered.

The chorus ended with a triumphant cry. The attendants smiled in relief at each other, then embraced as the mother
fell back with obvious satisfaction. The candle flames stilled, flickering normally as they had before, and when I looked at the sculptures on the wall, there were no more cat ghosts.

One woman held up a finger for silence. “She
will
be a puma,” she corrected, then she smiled at Jessica. “The new Oracle of Bast has awakened the ancestors to reveal the child’s future. It is as all should be.”

Jessica kissed the child, once on each cheek and once on her forehead. “Her name will be Safiya,” she said with greater confidence, and I recognized that summoning the vision of the child’s future had been a test for her. Or maybe the test had been awakening the ghosts. “Hold it sacred for Bast. May Safiya live long and bear many.”

“May Safiya live long and bear many!” echoed the women.

Jessica handed the child to the mother, who kissed the little girl just as Jessica had.

Then she handed off the baby to the midwife and clapped her hands. An older woman brought her a golden box, like a little lidded casket. Jessica caught her breath at the sight of it, and the new mother smiled. She opened the box, revealing a golden necklace. It was made of linked squares, the hinges hidden so that the necklace appeared to be a solid gold band. It was more supple than that, though, because of the links. It was about two inches wide and there was a red gem mounted on the front square.

I saw that when she fastened the necklace around Jessica’s neck. “Praise be that the power continues. Praise be that the ancestors have acknowledged a new Oracle. Praise be that Bast continues to show her favor to her faithful.” She gave Jessica the same trio of kisses that seemed to be their habitual salute, then spun her around. “Hail the new Oracle!” she said, and the assembled women cheered.

Jessica touched the necklace with her fingertips and bowed
her head. I could see that she was both jubilant and overwhelmed.

Kind of the way I’d felt when Urd had first called me Wyvern.

The new mother guided Jessica toward us, her eyes glinting with purpose. I was amazed at her energy, given that she’d just had a child. “And so you have been permitted to enter our sanctuary,” she said to Meagan and me.

“This is our Oracle,” Jessica said, her awe obvious. From that and the attitude of the other women, I assumed this new mother was the Bastian equivalent of my dad.

She nodded, her gaze never leaving me. I felt interrogated before she even asked a question. “I allowed you to enter our sanctuary because of the depth of Jessica’s concern. I needed her to be able to concentrate. But now you must tell me, Wyvern—why are you seeking Jessica?”

I told her and Jessica about Mozart’s shadow and about King’s instructions.

“He did as should be done. He kept his vow,” she said with approval, then turned to Jessica. “You have the power to heal his shadow, and I am too tired to do it well. It must be done today, after sunset. He will be safe until then, but act quickly once the darkness falls.”

“Yes, Oracle,” Jessica said, and bowed.

I wanted to ask the Oracle a whole bunch of questions, but she spoke crisply, ensuring I had no chance. “And so you have witnessed one of the great mysteries of our kind, Wyvern. I allowed this because of the treaty between us, but you will not leave this sanctuary without making a pledge of secrecy.”

Her gaze turned even more steely then, and I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine the flicker of red in the depths of her eyes. She reminded me a little bit of Skuld, to tell you the truth.

“What do we need to promise?” Meagan asked.

The woman looked at Jessica, who squared her shoulders and spoke. “The mysteries of the vessels of Bast shall not be shared with any of the male gender. You must swear to say nothing of what you have seen to any man or boy, of any kind.”

The Oracle nodded approval of Jessica’s words.

So that was why King had refused to talk. Either he didn’t know more or it was smarter to keep what he knew to himself.

The problem was that I wasn’t so good with this request.

“But there are other male shifters in our alliance,” I began to argue, and the Oracle’s eyes narrowed.

“We, the vessels of Bast, have endured for five thousand years,” she said, her tone inflexible. “And we shall survive for five thousand more, alliance or no.”

I thought it tactless to point out that the lion shifters, who were of their kind, had been exterminated by the Mages and that the remaining cat shifters had been enslaved by them afterward.

But I thought it.

And she knew it.

“I have made an exception for you, because you freed us from captivity, but do not press me too far, Wyvern. We survive because of our ability to keep our secrets.”

“But we all need to survive. I saw the ShadowEaters summoned.…”

She smiled, and her tone turned condescending. “And what should we care? Do you not know what the ShadowEaters are, Wyvern?”

I had to shake my head.

“They are Mages who failed.” She sneered this last word. “They are Mages who tried to perform the final ceremony, to become pure spirit and merge with the universe, thereby turning all to malice. In that form, they would fill the
thoughts of men with poison and hatred, inciting wars and strife and feeding greed. In the dissent, the remaining Mages could build their powers without interference, then ultimately dominate us all.”

This was horrifying stuff.

Her eyes shone. “But they
failed
in making that critical transition. They are snared between our sphere and the realm of pure spirit, and this renders them harmless to anyone in either realm. Only the Mages can invoke them, and thanks to your efforts, the Mages are impotent, or close to it.”

“But I saw them here.…”

“You could not have.” She shook her head firmly. “What ShadowEaters can influence is dreams. It is the highest form of spellcasting. They can give nightmares, Wyvern, and undermine your faith in what you know.” She regarded me, her eyes glittering. “Do not believe everything you dream to be true.”

I felt slapped down. Stupid. Like a kid.

That was her intent.

The Oracle leaned closer to me, her eyes now shining with that red glow. I could see a golden cat shape surrounding her, like an aura or a ghost, and guessed that she was on the cusp of shifting shape. Which meant she either felt threatened or was mad.

Or both.

“Now promise,” she hissed.

I couldn’t just give in, not after she’d spoken to me like that.

“No guys? Absolutely none?” I asked. All the dragon shifters were guys, and they were my friends. How could secrets not divide us? “Not my dragon friends or the wolf shifters? What about guy cat shifters, like King and Mozart?”

“No males may know of this divine secret,” she said with resolve. “Those you call King and Mozart have accepted this truth.”

Wow. Did guys even have names in the realm of the Bastians?

The Oracle put out her hand. “Pledge your silence, Wyvern. Pledge it now.” She smiled coldly, her gaze flicking to the cat sculptures on all sides of the room. “Or you will remain the guest of the ancestors forever.”

I looked again and realized that the sculptures were actually jars. I could see now that the cat head on each one was a lid. What was inside them? She was talking about ancestors, and I was thinking about remains.

Was there a jar in this room with my name on it? I shuddered despite myself at the very idea. I could see them again, those shadowy cat ghosts, shimmering and gathering, slipping around our small group. The Oracle kept her attention fixed on me, her gaze unblinking. I thought about that door with no hardware. Jessica was watching, still fingering her necklace, and I could hear Meagan’s heart thumping.

I did not have a lot of options.

“I pledge it,” I said, not having any idea how I was going to make this work.

The Oracle’s smile flashed. She kissed me then, with that same trio of kisses, and when her face was close to mine, she whispered. “Make no mistake: I shall know if you break your word.”

There was a brilliant shimmer of gold and I saw those milling ghost cats on all sides again. They were all looking at me, their red eyes gleaming, and I knew they would be the ones to rat on me—ha—if there was cause to do so.

I had to hope she was right about the ShadowEaters.

But I didn’t believe it.

With one last smile, the Oracle turned to her new daughter and the midwife, dismissing us from her attention. Jessica watched the other women for a minute, a kind of yearning in
her eyes. She was one of the Bastians, I saw, but not really like them.

A wildcard, just like me.

“Did you ever do that before?” Meagan asked.

Jessica shook her head. “Never.” She glanced over her shoulder at the women. “The mother is the current Oracle, so she couldn’t do the ceremony this time. I knew theoretically how to awaken the ancestors, because she taught me how to do it, but it’s a lot different in real life. My mom was sure I could do it. I just hoped I wouldn’t screw it up.”

“No pressure,” I said, understanding completely. She flashed me a smile. “You look like you could use a chocolate bar.”

“Ice cream.” Jessica grinned and nodded. “Definitely ice cream. Just let me get changed.”

“And we’ve got big news,” Meagan said.

“I figured that when I heard Zoë in my thoughts.” Jessica gave me an intent look.

So that, at least, had worked.

“Can you really heal Mozart’s shadow?” I asked.

Jessica nodded with confidence. She tapped her necklace. “I can, now that I have this.”

That was good news. I had to think that things were finally looking up.

Relatively speaking.

I
T DIDN

T TAKE
J
ESSICA LONG
to get back into her usual clothes, complete with the baseball hat jammed over her ponytail. I couldn’t even see the golden necklace under her T-shirt and hoodie, but I was sure it was there. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just forgot and left behind.

The apartment was lit normally now, the women having opened the blinds and drapes. It was a beautiful apartment, decorated in black and gold with Art Deco furniture. There
were big vases of flowers, everything so perfect that it looked like a photograph. I caught a glimpse of a fantastic view of the lake out the windows on the far side.

I wondered a bit about our exit, but as soon as we stepped into the foyer, the door opened, seemingly of its own volition. Jessica pushed the elevator button as the door clicked shut behind us. It looked as if she was used to this.

I had so many questions, I wasn’t sure where to start.

Meagan didn’t have that trouble. “Is this why you didn’t answer me?”

“It wasn’t up to me to tell you where I was. The Oracle had to decide, and she was a bit busy.”

“But the panther girl,” I said.

“The Oracle sent her,” Jessica confirmed. “She asked me why I was worried, and I told her that you were concerned about me. She said I didn’t have time for distractions.”

Meagan pushed up her glasses. “Did you really call to the dead?”

Jessica nodded. “The ashes of all past Oracles are here in the sanctuary, and the current Oracle calls on them for guidance.” She grinned. “Apparently, even an Oracle in training can get them to show up.”

“How do you ask ashes for guidance?” Meagan asked as we got into the elevator.

“Because they’re more than ashes,” I said, understanding now what I had seen. “The past Oracles came alive, like ghosts, right when the baby was shimmering in your grip. They were there again when I had to promise.”

Both of them looked at me in astonishment.

“You
saw
the ancestors?” Jessica asked. There was an edge to her tone, as if she didn’t believe me, as if she thought I was making up that part.

As if maybe I was trying to steal some of her thunder.

But I had seen them.

The elevator zoomed toward the lobby, moving so fast that my ears popped a bit. It was a smooth ride, but the bottom of my stomach felt weird.

“I think so,” I said, pretending to have more doubt than I did. “There were lots of gold cats, transparent ones with red eyes. They were walking between the sculptures, kind of weaving their way along the shelves, and meowing.”

“That’s them,” Jessica said, looking at me in awe and maybe, just maybe, a teensy bit of resentment. “You shouldn’t be able to see them. You’re not initiated into our rites or one of our kind or anything.”

Oops.

“Don’t you see them?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet. But I’ve been told about them.” She smiled. “I know what to look for.”

“We both saw the puma,” Meagan said.

Jessica nodded. “Everybody does. I never heard of anyone other than an Oracle seeing the ancestors before, though.” She looked at me again, consideration in her eyes.

“If you can’t see them, how do you know whether they come?” Meagan asked.

“I hear them,” Jessica explained. “Today they told me the baby’s name. And I felt their power surrounding her in that moment, revealing her future.”

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “I mean, is it important what kind of cat the baby will be able to become?”

“Just that she can.” Jessica exhaled and looked suddenly tired. “We never know, you know. A child might not have the power to shift and become one of us. It’s not a gimme anymore, even for the child of an Oracle. Ever since the Mages—well, since we were their slaves—things have been erratic. This ceremony used to just be routine, but now it’s really
important. If the child will fully be one of us, the ancestors share that truth.”

“And if they don’t answer the summons?” I asked, sensing that she wasn’t telling me the whole story. The Bastians sure were big on their privacy.

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