Oracle (Book I)

Becoming

Caprice blinked awake. Sunlight warmed her and grass prickled her body through her clothes.

Why am I outside...? Oh right, she thought. The entrance ceremony. The bonfire. The rush. Dancing. She vaguely remembered Thierry shaking her awake by the shoulder. Her moaning, turning over, and shrugging him off. Everything around that was a little glazed over in her mind. Slowly, memories of more dancing with a glass in her hand and Grace waving around a mostly empty bottle of gold rush surfaced. Likely the explanation for this, Caprice thought dryly. She yawned and stretched her sore muscles then pulled herself upright.

Nezzle was sitting with one leg folded, reading from the book in the hand propped on her other knee.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning."

Fritter was curled in her lap and blinking sleepily at Caprice.

"Sorry, did I leave you upstairs alone? Looks like you found us."

"And was probably at the party anyway." Nezzle rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"Yea," Caprice laughed lightly. She scooted over and gave the feline a brief petting. "Were we just left out here?"

"I wouldn't say left. And we're not the only ones."

The food table and tent were still set up. A little ways away from where they sat, remnants of the bonfire stood cooled and scorched. Caprice recognized a few faces from the party around the table, in the chairs, and even still asleep in the grass nearby.

She gasped.

"Lessons!" She started to get up. Though she wasn't feeling particularly tossed, just a bit warm and content, she wasn't ready for lessons either. How could she have spent the night drinking and frittering the time away!

Calmly, Nezzle said, "No lessons today, remember. Week's end."

"Bless it all," Caprice sighed. Slumping back down, she couldn't imagine going to lessons right now. What she wanted was a rinse in the baths and another go at sleeping. In a bed this time. She looked around again. "Where's Bossa?"

Nezzle pointed a tattooed finger out into the field.

Bossa streaked down the field, bare foot and free of her robes. She outstripped the wolves and jaguars racing alongside her, shifting into her meta form and back again. Turning, she ran a course back across the way she'd come.

For a while, they watched her blur across the grass, yard after yard, over and over. Eventually, she stopped, sweating and huffing, bent and bracing her hands on her knees.

Coming over to them on wobbly legs, she flopped down spread-eagle on her back.

"Is the marathon over?" Caprice teased. The weres who had run with her settled on their hunches or lay down, panting, tongues hanging out.

"Has to be," Bossa breathed, chest pumping.

"I can't believe you were running with them." Both Professors Mosshue and Su had marveled at the abilities of kin, the suhngha. It was amazing to witness, whether physical, magical, or otherwise.

Bossa arched and tilted her head back as far as she could. "Is that an elephant with a phoenix soaring above its head over there?"

Caprice glanced across the field.

"Yes," Nezzle confirmed.

"Good. Although I don't know what an elephant is doing here."

A few feet away, the tent poofed, vanishing into thin air.

"Um, where'd it go?" Caprice gaped.

"Somewhere the teachers can't find it," Bossa said.

For breakfast, they got lukewarm and cold leftovers from last night.

"This is all there is to drink." Returning from the buffet, Caprice held up an almost empty gold rush bottle.

"A little early for that," Nezzle said dryly.

"Never too early for rush." Bossa reached for the bottle. But Nezzle waved her hand and the bottle sped back to the table.

"None for you either, Bohs."

Chewing on a piece of roast chicken, which was flavorful and satisfying even if no longer hot, Caprice mused aloud, "What I'd do for some—"

"Got it." Firmly seated on the ground and obviously with no intention of going to the Grand Hall, Nezzle made a motion with her hand.

A moment later, a flask of chilled bilberry juice, a pitcher of water, three cups, four plates, and a random assortment of food flew swiftly towards them. One of the marbled taro buns, warm and buttered, which Nezzle had summoned had a huge chunk bitten out of it as if someone had grabbed it with their mouth on the way from the dining hall.

"Rude. Very rude." Nezzle tossed the bun into edge of the woods and it was immediately divided by squirrels and meadow voles.

"After breakfast, what're we up to? I'm going to run a few more laps with the weres," Bossa said. She clamped a bun in her fangs and chewed with it stuffed in her mouth like that.

"Bath. Bed," Caprice said absently, watching a were-jaguar meticulously licking its paw.

Nez yawned again and reluctantly tore her gaze from her book.

"I think I'll go with Caprice. See you upstairs, Bohs."

Dragging herself back inside the castle and to the Dragon's Roost (ignoring the stares of students as she passed, seeing as how her gown was still covered in blood) Caprice found the baths, the nearest towels, and a stall. She peeled off her gown and stood under the hot waters until the remnants of blood washed away and the tightness in her throat somewhat eased. She went back to her room with her eyes half-shut, drowsy from breakfast and the water.

Inside, Nezzle was beneath the sheets and sitting up against the pillows, eyes moving slower than usual from line to line as she nodded off; she held the glasses she'd been wearing last night in her hand like she'd forgotten to put them on. Bossa's hammock was occupied by Fritter and the bed was empty. Caprice put on her gown, wrapped her damp hair in a big towel and crawled between the sheets. The moment her head found a groove in the pillow and towel, sleep claimed her.

She walked into the earth through the darkened entrance that led into the catacombs. I'm late, she thought, hurrying and hoping Professor Gleddy wouldn't be cross with her. But her feet didn't carry her to the professor's schoolroom. A strange whispering, hundreds of voices, grew louder and louder the further she walked. Caprice rubbed at her ear to clear the sound but it didn't stop. She wandered through the magically illuminated tunnels until she entered a huge, cool cavern. In the back wall was the enormous statue of a robed woman sitting on the floor, eyes closed; she wore bangles and several large hoops pierced her ears. There were other statues in the walls but she stepped towards this one in the center. As she did, a single voice spoke clearly over the now very loud whispers.

"I am—" Here the woman's voice dipped and distorted before saying, "—Rock."

The cavernous chamber vanished and Scryer's Mountain towered over her. White light and gilded light battled in shining frenzy in it's translucent heart.

"What will you become?" the mountain said in a thousand whispering voices. "Stone...air...or crystal?"