Oracle (Book I)

Deturra Nanah

As Bossa shrank in the distance, Caprice heard a sound and looked up. High in the blue sky, a witch on a broomstick swung loop-the-loops, whooping loudly as she went round. Caprice gasped as the witch rolled into a mad dive. Approaching the ground, the rider pulled up parallel, rode the wave of speed, then sailed to a landing, running along the grass until she came to a stop nearby.

Getting to her feet, Caprice approached the madcap. Clad in a strange, sleeveless, and fitted riding garb and boots, she had a big, curly puff of pink, yellow, and hazel hair and wore an assortment of hemp bracelets on her wrists. She started retying the leather strings laced around the handle of the broom and adjusting the light satchel strapped there as well.

Bracing herself, she cleared her throat and said, "Are you a teacher? Your flying is very nice."

The witch turned and looked at her. A broad stripe of deep yellow paint ran from her hairline and down her neck, matching the yellow brown riding garb. The area on the sides of the stripe around the rest of her cheeks, jaw, forehead, and ears were a dark umber and the same color as her arms. The woman smiled softly at Caprice.

"You must be a first-year."

Caprice nodded. "Caprice Bilberry, ma'am."

"I assume you're taking the placement examination today."

"Um, yes...." A hard knot of nerves twisted tighter in Caprice's gut.

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm not. If I do...I might lose everything." Bossa was in the Grand Hall by now getting the food. Nezzle was in the woods picking pepper plant and scary mary or something. She hadn't seen Thierry, who had seemed almost resolved to stay here last night, or Professor Earithean, who was likely to give her only the most practical advice. Of course, she couldn't ask them. So Caprice imploringly asked this stranger, "What should I do?"

"What does a bird do when the door of its cage is suddenly and finally left open?"

"I don't imagine that it continues to meander around in there waiting for seeds," Caprice said wryly.

"All its life, it has known freedom; not because it is free but because its blood retains the memory of flying free with wild abandon in the blue, blue sky."

"Fly away. It flies away," Caprice murmured.

She nodded. "Will you return to your cage?"

Caprice couldn't answer her.

The witch got back on her broom.

"Take the test. That's my bet. Or go back. Back to that village. Where learning magic for your people gets you killed even if you're witches too."

"You know about the village."

She only smiled again. "Deturra Nanah. They'll likely have you address me as professor but call me whatever you like. Good luck on the test, Caprice." Professor Deturra took off again, soaring higher and higher then darting away.

A moment later, someone tramped out of the trees. Caprice ran back to the area at the edge of the forest and met Nezzle.

"No one wrote that humpy grass grows exactly like a blettle nest," Nezzle said. She brushed twigs and leaves out if her hair and shook a few spider-like blettles off. They fell to the ground, wobbling around on their round middles, thin black legs flailing wildly.

"Good morning, Nezzle," Caprice said.

"Good morning, Caprice. Was that Professor Deturra?" She came over and sat on the grass.

"I only just met her. What does she teach?"

"Everything they don't teach inside. She lives in a traveling house in the Wilds."