Oracle (Book I)

The Oraci

Caprice called and they answered.

She opened her eyes. The air around her shifted. Behind her eyelids, it took on a silvery appearance and the room filled with sinuously curling mist.

"The agony of rage and sorrow that you feel," said Ester. Her voice was composed of hundreds of other voices with her own distinctive sound superimposed over the others. "We have felt it a million fold, over and over..."

Caprice rose and went into the mist.

"You opened the gate. Led me to the suhngha's fountain of blood. That ocean. You stopped me from feeling so much fear when Bossa drank from me."

"We helped. The blood drinker's pride in the girl might not have survived hurting you after you offered yourself to her even though you fear vampires."

"And what I...saw?" Her senses had filled to the brim during the drinking, so saw wasn't exactly the word. Hearing, sight, taste, and even touch. Something inside of her that was unanchored to her body had been awakened, too. It was as if the blood--past, present, and forever--was alive.

"While it was happening, Bossa saw only you because it was your vein she drank from. She has more control and a deeper connection, so she was unswayed by the blood's oceans. But you consciously experienced a piece of our eternity as that part of you was unlocked through us and the effect of Bossa's bite. It is something that has always been inside of you."

Ester's face and her body formed in the mist. Her voice was the voices of many. She was only one among them, coming forth to represent.

"You called for us," she said knowingly. "He cannot hear us here, but our time is short. It comes. It interferes. The curses he has wrought."

Caprice hesitated. She knew exactly what she wanted. Saying it out loud though, her mouth just wouldn't.

"What is your name, elder?" she asked.

"Even if I told you the only one left to me, you would not hear it. To say your true name is to speak your truth. Who can hear your truth if you cannot speak it? My mouth and your ears are cursed."

"That noise... The strange sounds I hear whenever Rock and Ester try to talk to me. That is the curse you speak of?"

Ester only nodded.

Urgency weighted Caprice's chest. She thought of Thackery and her mother and father. Still trapped in that place, bound by chains.

"Is this really what you want?" Ester's voice cut into her troubled thoughts.

Again, Caprice hesitated.

Ester said swiftly, "You know exactly what I mean. I was not able to stop them. I was not able to save my family. My people." In the mist that moved like ribbons of smoke and like misty clouds, Ester's eyes looked directly into hers. "But you can."

Frustration tore through Caprice and tears burned her eyes again.

"I can't. I can't save them. I don't have the power."

"Don't you? You have the courage and much heart."

"I shouldn't. It will only make things worse." Especially if I fail. Terrible things awaited kin who rebelled against white witches. Things worse than death.

"You sought me, Caprice Bilberry. So if that were true, if that was your heart of hearts, I would not be here. We will aid you. You need only accept the power we have left. Decide. Seek me again. I will wait. Beware: There isn't much time for anyone here in this cursed place."

The prospect of Ester leaving and never returning spurred her on. No more. No more crying. Do something! Caprice pushed her doubts aside. She was no longer helpless little witch cowering against the slab in a stony rut where nothing grew.

"I have decided."

A waiting silence pressed into Caprice's ears.

"I accept," Caprice said, her tone hard with resolve. "Please help me save my family."

Suddenly, people appeared around her. Hundreds of them, materializing fully formed from the mist and fog. Just like the suhngha blood fountain with Bossa, something inside of her opened. Only that was an awakening. This...this came with remembering things she had unwillingly forgotten.

Zyall stepped forward and grinned at her.

"You might just remember after all...a little at least," she smirked.

Looking from her to the woman she knew only as Ester, she asked again, "What is your name, ancient one?" Of all the people standing before her, this woman's presence resounded inside of Caprice, running long and deep. She wore gold and silver bangles. Her hair was tied in a large, thick braid on top of her head like a crown. She was a study of smooth glori-colored skin bared by the bright blue scarves crossing her chest and hips.

"Alone, I am known now only as Aether." When she spoke her name, there was no distortion, nothing hidden. "Now that you can see me and we are all as one, they can no longer hide my name from you. Our memory and power will provide you some protection against the curse that binds this place."

Someone touched her shoulder. Caprice looked and gasped.

"Mahsa, you're here, too."

His touch was warm, gentle. Almost as solid and as real as she was though she now knew he no longer possessed a physical form.

"It is as Aether has said. But they must not know what we have done," Mahsa said.

"Who?"

"The magician," Aether said. "I can tell you no more. You must discover the rest for yourself."

"You remember everything you've forgotten now, Caprice." Mahsa said solemnly.

She struggled to find the words. "The way all of you are, clouded and fogged together like this...it isn't natural, is it?"

"No, it is not."

"Who has done this to you and Zyall, Mahsa...so many. Who has done this?"

"If I speak his name, they will know."

"The magician refers to us as the oraci." Aether looked up, sensing something above in in the mist. "This is the place where you may speak with us. We are with you always. Just behind your eyes. Go now. Wake."

Shaking, Caprice swung her legs over the side of her bed and leaned forward, breathing in hard gusts.

Zyall was wrong.

She remembered everything.