“And the Phoenix?” Lucette asked quietly.
“The original Phoenix was born from that First Burning. Pure rage given form. It destroyed the world they’d created and forced them to begin again.” The Oracle’s fingers traced patterns on the table, unconscious movements that might have been spellworkor simply habit. “Every two hundred years, a marked Phoenix returns. Every two hundred years, we rebuild from ash.”
“Except for now,” Pip whispered, clearly unaware that she hovered inches from the fury-born’s face.
“Except for now,” Aureth echoed.
“The Guardians never leave the Sanctuary,” I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral. “Everyone knows that. But only three dragons protect the Fury descendants, and from what I understand, they hardly leave.”
Riot’s jaw tightened, but it was the Oracle who answered.
“All four Guardians came to Fuerlis with the Sister Furies. But Lyric, the fourth dragon, lost his ability to communicate with his brothers when his bonded Fury died. Some say he died long ago of a broken heart. Others claim they can still hear his lament across the skies.”
Pip made a small sound, somewhere between awe and terror.
The Oracle’s attention shifted. I could feel it like a weight settling on my shoulders. “Demons are patient, child. They whisper in dreams, corrupt slowly, offer everything hearts desire most. They appear beautiful, reasonable, even loving. But they are evil. Never, ever trust one.” Her voice dropped to something that made my spine crawl. “And should you meet the fourth brother if you fall to the Underworld, may the Furies have mercy on your soul.”
“Good thing we’ll never meet one, then!” Pip’s nervous laugh was too loud. “Probably. Maybe. And when we’re dead, we won’t be afraid anymore anyway, right?”
The kitchen door slammed open hard enough to rattle the jars on the shelves.
“Maybe,” the Oracle answered, her voice falling to a whisper as Wickett stomped into the kitchen.
Rain-soaked from whatever storm had come up, anger radiating from every line of his body, nestled within scowl lineson his aggravatingly attractive face. Water dripped from his hair, his uniform, and even his lashes before pooling at his feet in puddles.
“What the hells are you doing here?” His silvery eyes locked on me. “Didn’t you get my note?”
I set down my fork with deliberate calm. “What note? I haven’t seen anything.” I glanced at Pip, who was frantically shoving an entire piece of bread in her mouth. “You see any notes, Pip?”
The sprite shook her head vigorously, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.
Wickett’s jaw worked as he processed this tiny rebellion, his eyes moving between us like he was compartmentalizing every detail for a later punishment. “The Oracle’s time is valuable. You’ve wasted?—”
“Nothing,” Aureth interjected smoothly, turning toward him with unnerving accuracy as she brushed a finger over her blindfold. “I came here of my own accord. Prophecy finds its own schedule, young hunter. You’d do well to remember that.”
His eyes found mine again, promising this wasn’t over. “Training field. All of you. Now.”
Lucette broke the silence as she pushed her empty plate away. “I’d love to know why you still think you’re in charge.”
Riot spoke for the first time since the Oracle’s story, his voice carrying dry amusement. “Have you met his father?”
“Pip has to be excused from whatever torture you’re planning,” I said, setting my plate in the sink.
“And why the hells is that?” Wickett all but growled, that deep tone tingling down my spine.
I crossed the kitchen to stand directly in front of the fucker, throwing my hands on my hips to match the attitudehewas giving. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have a job to do here. I’m not interested in being run ragged in some soppy field withweapons I don’t want to use because you need to burn off whatever that hunter’s pride is made of. Pip has a job to do. And it’s far more important than whatever you’ve done today.”
Wickett took a step toward me, but I stood my ground, craning my neck to look up at him as the others watched from the sidelines. “That defiance is going to be the end of you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.” I patted him on the chest as I squeezed past him and into the hallway, with Pip directly behind me. “May the rest of your day be as pleasant as your disposition, Wickett Veyne.”
I could feel those eyes burning into my back as I walked down the hall, Pip giggling behind me the whole way. Another step across his boundary. Another move to test just how far he’d let me push him. Maybe I was channeling Vitoria’s recklessness, but maybe I was also enjoying it.
Chapter 23
Syneca
Stare not too long at still water. Something below will always stare back, waiting for you to blink first.
