Lucyan dismounted his horse a few paces away from the dragon fountain, then handed the reins off to an attendant before bending over to wash his hands and mouth before entering the building. The temple loomed a few yards away, a massive, two-story structure built from wooden beams painted vermillion, their sacred color. Golden runes shimmered along the edges of the roof, the pillars, and the entrance—protective symbols that would repel anyone who approached with illwill.
Lucyan drew in a deep breath and expelled what little anger lingered in his heart. He didn’tactuallymean the temple ill will, but he wasn’t sure the runes distinguished the difference. Steadier now, he climbed the steps, then handed his shoes to anotherattendant.
“Do you know where I can find the oracle at this time of day?” Lucyan asked the attendant. He’d timed his visit to ensure he missed the morning prayers, having no intention to kneel on the floor for an hour and a half and chant rhythmically with the priests and acolytes. That time was much better spent getting what shut-eye hecould.
The attendant smiled. “He is in his officeupstairs.”
Lucyan thanked the woman, then gave her a coin as a donation and stepped over the threshold. Woven rugs cushioned his bare feet, sparing him from the worst of the frigid cold that had seeped into the floorboards overnight. Ahead, on the other side of the wide, open space, was a shrine with a statue of the Fiorlax, the dragon god, and various offerings gathered around him. Lucyan bypassed the shrine, and those praying in front of it, in favor of the staircase that hugged the left side of the building. He lightly traversed the rickety steps, then turned down a hall lined with severalrooms.
Lucyan had met the oracle enough times to know him by scent, so he easily picked out his office. “Enter,” the oracle commanded when he knocked, and Lucyan raised his eyebrows. He sounded far too imperious for a man of the cloth, though perhaps he had a right to be, as the “only” man who could speak to thegods.
“My prince!” The oracle’s eyes widened as Lucyan pushed the door open, and he got to his feet. He’d been sitting behind his desk, which, while neat, was covered in stacks of paper. The office itself was spacious and nicely appointed, with a large glass window overlooking the gardens on one side and a fireplace and chairs on the other. Bookshelves lined the wall behind his desk, and over the mantle was a gorgeous depiction of the dragon god soaring over Terragaard, his scales shining gold as he spewed flame into thenight.
“This is a most unexpected surprise,” he said, smiling broadly as he approached Lucyan. Lucyan noted the smile did not reach his eyes, and he detected the change in his scent—the man was nervous, and not at all pleased to see him. But he shook the oracle’s hand anyway and accepted his invitation to sit down. “Have you and your brother come seekingguidance?”
“Just me, I’m afraid,” Lucyan said as the oracle poured tea for them both. Lucyan surreptitiously sniffed at it to make sure the man hadn’t slipped anything untoward in his cup, but it simply smelled like berries and hibiscus, so he took asip.
“Understandable,” the oracle said after taking a drink himself. “I’m sure that neither of you can afford to leave for very long now that the king has left the responsibility of the entire kingdom on yourshoulders.”
“Indeed,” Lucyan said, with more than a hint of bitterness in his tone. “We have many problems to deal with, and I was hoping you might be able to assist me with one ofthem.”
“Of course,” the oracle said eagerly. “Anything I can do, you need onlyask.”
“What I’d like you to do right now,” Lucyan drawled, leaning back in his seat, “is tell me why you’ve been spreading nasty rumors about ourmate.”
“O-our mate?” the oracle repeated, his eyes widening in confusion. The fear in his scent grew sharper, and Lucyan bit back a wolfishsmile.
“By ‘our’ I am referring to me and my brothers,” he said. “Surely you know about the prophecy, the one that states the three of us can break Shalia’s Curse if we join with the Dragon’s Gift alltogether?”
The oracle’s cheeks colored. “I told Lady Dareena to disregard that nonsense,” he said stiffly. “That prophecy was told by a soothsayer with a well-known propensity formadness.”
“Aren’t all soothsayers known for flirting with madness?” Lucyan asked pointedly. “I hear it’s a requirement for regular communal with thegods.”
The oracle’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like what you’reinsinuating.”
“And I don’t like that you’re trying to change the subject,” Lucyan said. “Do you take me for a fool? My spies have informed me that you are telling others that Dareena is not the true Dragon’s Gift, and that she cheated the ritual. Why are you taking such great pains to malign her, especially when she is not here to defend herself?” His voice deepened into agrowl.
The oracle held up his hands. “I said nothing of the sort!” he protested. Lucyan bared his teeth, letting out a plume of smoke, and the oracle’s bald head grew shiny with sweat. “My prince, why would I do such a thing? I myself was right there when Dareena was blessed by the god—I would be calling my integrity as the oracle into question by suggesting that I could be hoodwinked. Ofcourseshe is the Dragon’sGift.”
Lucyan frowned. The man had a point, and yet… “I see no reason why my spies wouldlie.”
The oracle shrugged. “Sometimes rumors are only that—rumors. There is no question that Dareena was chosen by the dragon god to bear his next descendants. However, this business about the three of you being her mates must come to an end,” he saidfirmly.
“Like hell it will,” Lucyan said. “We’ve alreadydecided.”
“Well, un-decide it,” the oracle demanded. “Dareena was charged with the task of choosing one of you as a mate, and choose she must. In order to save the dragon dynasty, she must mate with the strongest of you, which means you and your brothers will need to fight to the death to win herhand.”
“And how the bloody hell do you know that?” Lucyan asked, horrified at the prospect. Fratricide? The very idea made him sickinside.
“The dragon god told me,” the oracle said, as if that were obvious. “He spoke into my ear just as I was drifting off to sleep lastnight.”
“Oh, so it’s that easy?” Lucyan’s voice was rife with sarcasm. “The dragon god sidles up to you in bed and whispers sweet prophecies in your ear?” He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man. Lucyan had half a mind to rip his throat out, if only to stop him from speaking morelies.
“Just what are you insinuating?” the oracle asked, outraged. “You may be a prince, but I won’t have you sitting here in my office, drinking my tea while you insultme!”
“Of course not,” Lucyan said silkily, rising from his chair. He set his cup of half-finished tea on the table and gave the oracle an exaggerated bow. “Thank you for your time and your counsel, Oracle. I will discuss this with my brother henceforth. In the meantime, I would appreciate your discretion on this matter, at least until the Dragon’s Gift has returned fromElvenhame.”
He turned and strode out the door, leaving the oracle sputtering behind him. Keeping an unhurried pace, he headed down the steps, then left another coin with the attendant at the door as he collected his shoes. There was no need to give the temple staff any reason to suspect that the meeting had gone badly. With any luck, the oracle would keep his mask on and pretend that he was a do-gooder instead of the lying sack of horse dung he reallywas.
