Oracle (Book I)

This Christmas

In the Library, padding along its massive bookcases, Caprice feathered her fingers over the spines of the books and wondered what else she didn't know. What else she might never know. If what she'd learned was enough.

"A learned little monkey is still a monkey, Cappy."

Fingers now tingling with the urge to strike, Caprice faced Karrigan Whitehare.

Ever since All-Hallows Eve and even after the entrance ceremony, the girl hadn't looked quite right, tired and carrying dark sickles under her eyes. Blond hair stuck out in places like she'd been rubbing her feet on the carpet and she was even thinner than usual, the bones of her cheeks standing out.

Caprice didn't care if she wasn't getting enough sleep or had detention from now until the end of time doing Professor Mosshue's menial chores in the deepest, darkest copses and thickets of Onri's Forest in the middle of the night. It wasn't at all that Caprice was concerned about her health.

But Karrigan had probably never gone a day without sleep in her life. All that mattered was what that drained look meant for the girl's intentions towards her.

"Don't be so familiar with me, Karrigan Whitehare, and never call me that. You are no friend of mine." Caprice seethed at the sight of the girl. "I haven't forgotten what you did to my grandmother's bones. Bossa told me that desecration of a kin's remains carries the penalty of death. I'm thinking they have the right idea about that. Stay out of my way unless you'd like to find out how far my agreement goes."

"Oh? And I thought you'd like to know how your mother is doing. Since you will not be seeing her again."

Freezing, Caprice's heart leapt into her throat and thudded painfully as a rush of fright and unease pulsed through her.

"You didn't learn a thing on All-Hallows Eve, now did you, Whitehare." Nezzle headed for them the moment she entered the Library and stood beside Caprice.

Judging by the look on her face, she was about as ready to aim a good hex at the Karrigan's face as Caprice had been a moment ago.

"Speaking of penalty of death," Karrigan said loftily, "I also agree it is an appropriate punishment. Not nearly appropriate enough if you ask me."

As Nezzle opened her mouth and took a step forward, Caprice grabbed her arm in both hands.

"Stop it, Nezzle. Just stop it."

With a disgusted if wary glance at Nezzle, Karrigan's horrible pale eyes and malicious smile were all for Caprice as she sauntered away. Nezzle sighed as she stared after her.

"We're not going to run away every time we see that white witch—"

"You're just making it worse!"

Nezzle stilled and looked into Caprice's eyes. Whatever she saw there diverted any of her attention on Karrigan.

"What's wrong, Preece? You must tell me."

"Karrigan said something. A-about my mother."

"She is lying—"

"Something terrible has happened to her because of me! I know it. I feel it," Caprice said.

Her friend's eyes flashed angrily.

"All the more reason why I should've—!"

Drawing a deep wavering breath, Caprice said, "Forget Karrigan. There's more. Nezzle, I did something."

"You did what?"

"The Ancestors. You said we needed to find a better way to listen: I did. I talked to her again. The spirit. Her name is Aether. She gave me something."