Oracle (Book I)

For Those Who Defy

A presence inside Bossa burst through the doors thrown open in her mind and soul. A presence that watched her and waited.

"Who are you?"

I am The Oracle.

A twisting wrenched her gut. It felt bad. She felt something bad happening. Somewhere. Some time. Not yet. Soon.

"No. Please don't..." It was forming behind her eyes, painted on the inside of her head.

You must see. You're the only one who can know. The only who can save her.

Shards of crystal pierced underneath Bossa's skin and drove into her skull. Visions filled her head. Sensations and voices. As The Oracle had warned her, they showed her what was coming. The vision in her mind slipped and slid, warping and changing, melting and flipping, shattering and crystallizing. So Bossa saw what was to come, in stretches and flickers of moments.

The lounge was all but deserted and that's where she found her that evening. Caprice was standing over a small sack sitting in a chair at one of the tables. She carefully filled it with items set off to the side. Choice items set aside for a long journey.

Bossa grabbed her shoulder before she even noticed she was in the room, spinning the unsuspecting girl around.

"Where are you going, Caprice?" she demanded.

Startled, guilt was written all over her face, the witch stammered, "I-I don't know what you mean. I'm not--"

But Bossa didn't let her off that easy.

"Don't lie to me. Did you really think no one would figure it out!"

Caprice's little smile dipped. "Why do you say that?

"I won't let you leave," Bossa said. "You can't go back there. They will kill you. Or worse. We--"

Caprice's curse struck Bossa with such a speed and force, she flew backwards a step. She slammed gracelessly into the floor where she lay stunned and only able to stare up at her friend. She tried to shake it off as she ordinarily would but the spell held her well and truly stunned to the floor. With all her might, she fought to speak, tears spilling from her eyes and down the sides of her face.

"Don't go...don't go, Caprice," Bossa pleaded. It was all she could do.

"Please don't say anything else," Caprice whispered brokenly, turning away. Tears glimmered in her eyes. Her teeth clenched and she shook her head slowly. "They'll kill my family. I have to."

"Don't do this. Not alone."

"I can try. I must try. I'm sorry, Bossa."

The edges of Bossa's visions shined as if she saw the world through crystal.

In a bleak prison with no locks and no doors, a disheveled woman was crying Caprice's name. A beast came out of the wall. Eyes full of fear, Caprice smote it. She and the woman embraced. Together they ran away from European-style house, bursting out of the front door. Mountains loomed over them.

The crystal shards comprising her line of sight shifted again, flipping and turning. They changed colors, shattered into splinters of diamonds then reformed, becoming one again and showing her Caprice once more. The vision's way would be beautiful if only Bossa wasn't seeing what she was seeing.

Caprice stood on a wooden platform hewn of ghastly cursewood, cut hands bound in front of her. Cuts lanced her body through bloody clothes, even on her face. A sick, white hue spread from the veins around the brownness of her and paled her skin.

Caprice straightened, shaking, and held her head up while more veins of white poison spread across her skin. The crowd of snakes hissed and jeered.

Their voices and cold, pale faces flashed through Bossa's mind.