Fearless Magic

"And why shouldn't it be?" Silas asked, the hint of amusement back in his voice. "The only other surviving Oracle is dead; you remain the only one of our people left that has true immortality and you possess the magic of every kind in our people. How can you doubt that what I say is true? It is in your blood. You are the Oracle, whether the monarchy lives or dies, that will not change."

"What about Avalon?" I asked, dumbfounded. I was still trying to sort out my imagination from reality and was having trouble making sense of it.

"Your brother? What about him?" Silas asked, the smallest hint of impatience marking his expression.

"Well, if I am an Oracle, shouldn't he be one too? We have the same magic." I stated plainly, swallowing the rising lump trying to remind me that we used to have the same magic. Avalon no longer possessed any magic. I had it all.

"Sure, why not?" Silas laughed harshly, "but he is at the bottom of a Romanian prison. He will not keep his magic for long, and then you will share that title with the king you intend to destroy."

"No, that isn't true. Avalon doesn't have any magic to sacrifice, I have it all," I clarified, trusting Silas and then instantly regretting sharing so much with a man I hardly knew and that would not trust me the same in return.

"How can that be?" Silas asked skeptically, his gray eyes clouding and un-clouding with every hint of emotion he felt.

"He gave it to me the night of his capture. He had to, we both knew that he would be sacrificed for it. And now I have it, and because he is human, Lucan will not kill him until he has me," I dared Silas to contradict our theory. I had nothing to really go on, nothing to help me hope that my words were true, except, that they had to be true. If I lost Avalon, if the king murdered for nothing, I would never be able to live with myself. It would be the undoing of my sanity.

"Clever," Silas said plainly, not complimenting me in the least. "So, you see, you are the Oracle. There is no one else."

"Will you help me then?" I plead urgently. Maybe holding a new title would carry some weight with this stubborn man.

"Help you how?" he asked.

"Tell me what to do," I unfolded my arms and raised my hands, desperate for advice.

"I cannot tell you what to do," he laughed harshly. "You are beyond being told what to do. No one remains for you to take orders from. It is time for you to decide how to act and when."

"But I don't even know where to start." I dropped my arms to my sides heavily, already feeling defeated.

"Haven't you already started?" Silas smiled, mischievously, flashing perfectly white teeth that contrasted pleasantly with his midnight skin.

I sighed heavily in response. Tired of riddles, and in need of concrete answers, I was getting impatient.

"Do you know where my parents are?" I folded my arms again, suddenly exhausted.

"No," he shook his head. I opened my mouth to question him more but he continued before I could speak, "They were here. A few months ago they came to ask the same questions you ask me today."

"They were here?" I asked, disbelieving. They were for sure alive and they had been here, I could hardly believe the news. "Where did they go?"

"I do not know. They do not want to be found," Silas looked passed me, into the wild expanse of the mountains and I believed him. I knew I would have to work to find them.

"What did you tell them?" I pushed down the despair that threatened to end my quest and shouted in my ear to give up now. I would find them, whether they wanted to be found or not. And they would help me. I was their daughter.

I was the Oracle. They had no choice.

"I told them, what I have told you," he replied dryly.

"That you won't help me?" I rolled my eyes, a subconscious sign of rebellious youth, a left-over habit of a life that was ripped from me. "But you will help me, Silas, I know you will. This fight is too big for you not to be included. You keep me away from your people because you are afraid for them, because you want a better life for them. That is why I know, when the day comes, you will help me. You will have to help me. I am the last hope this whole kingdom has and if you have any hope in the future, you better hold it in me." I stomped my foot involuntarily. Filled with the righteous passion I believed accompanied any mission against the purest form of evil and at the core of my argument, I knew that I was right.

He would help me.

"You believe you will succeed?" He tipped his chin up towards the rising sun and stared into the achromatic void of the expansive sky.

"I have no other choice," I promised.

We stood there silently for a few moments. Silas looked to the heavens as if they would guide his internal debate and I looked at him, waiting for him to answer me.

"Then yes, I will help you." His eyes moved from the brewing seasonal storm to mine with an intensity that might shake a more unsure person. I stood still, held to the ground with firm resolve, believing in my cause with every fiber of my being and daring him not to join me. "When the time comes, I will help you."

I heard his words clearly. He said nothing about his colony. He alone promised to help, so we stood there silently, letting his words ring out in an oath to creation. We let the fulfillment of his promise be pushed to a later date, a different time and a different place, when the call to come to my aid would be of greater importance than the call to protect his people.

"Thank you," I whispered, grateful I accomplished what I set out to.

"Hmph," he grunted in reply.

"Where should I go from here?" I asked, tired of riddles and realizing Silas was not prone to giving straight. I was used to following someone else's directions and although Silas was right, I would have to learn to lead on my own, I still felt some guidance was necessary.

"I don't know where you should go from here," he answered. My blood began tingling with the childish irritation of a foreboding mysterious set of directions. "There are many places you could go. And any place you do go, you will be hunted."

The first of the morning tourists began to mill about the ancient citadel and I felt the flare of Silas' magic ignite with the desperation to leave. I shared his urgency and took a step closer to him, silently begging him for a lead.

"You will need more than my help Eden, you must find the others. You must convince as many as you can to help you. Go there next," he finished quietly and I knew I was losing him; he would be gone in a second.

"Go where next?" I demanded quickly, trying to hide my irritation.

"Find all those that can help you. Go to the Church of San Agustin, in the village of Urubamba. There you will find a priest; his name is Gabriel. He will be waiting for you." He put a strong hand on my arm and squeezed gently before turning on his heel and escaping through the growing crowd.

I followed him, through the excited travelers, undetected through the exit gate. I had no idea where I was going or how I would find the rest of the Shape-shifter colonies, but I could claim at least one on my side. At least one that would help me fight, one that would stand with me.

Silas wasn't much.

But, he was the beginning. All I needed was one, just one and the rest would follow. I just needed one to start, one to light the flame and then set it free.

Chapter Four

I lost Silas in the crowd. His magic disappeared completely. I pushed through the people pressing their way into the ancient ruins and ended up in the gift shop. Miniature models of the Machu Picchu and overpriced coffee table books depicting its magnificent beauty in scenic pictures, filled the still empty store. The tourists visited the shop at the end of their trip, so I had the place to my self for a few more minutes.

I glanced over the full shelves, brimming with nostalgic memorabilia hoping to find a map, or guide to more than just Machu Picchu, something that would tell me more about Urubamba. The lone store clerk stared at me with the smallest hint of disdain from behind her tall, glass counter, but I tried to ignore her all together.

Bells clanged together from across the store, signaling someone else had entered. My blood ignited with the recognition of Immortal magic. I snapped my head up, while simultaneously slouching lower than the bookshelves, separating myself from the other.

My forearms prickled with anticipation and my veins coursed with lightning that snapped and crackled beneath my skin. I more than recognized that the other was Immortal. I recognized exactly who the Immortal was.

My breath caught in my throat and my palms started sweating. I clenched and unclenched my fingers, finding the willpower to settle down my nerves. He walked closer to me, finding me easily through the stacks of picture books and Inca replicas.

I stood up to full height, realizing hiding was useless and not wanting to seem like a coward. I would meet him with confidence, with courage, and without being a sweaty mess. First, I just had to pull myself together in the two seconds it would take for him to be face to face with me.

I straightened my posture, tilting my chin and clearing my throat just in time for him to round the book shelf and stop short. A sharp ripple of electricity, that started at my neck and worked its way painfully down my back, reminded me of how desperately I hated this man. Yet, the urge to drain his magic and be on my way felt far away and I struggled to even find the venomous words tugging at the hateful part of my brain, begging to escape and slap him in the face.

“Hello, Eden,” Talbott said carefully, his voice the cool, accented, methodical tone it always was.

“What do you want?” I asked, jumping straight to the point. I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to try something.

“We need to talk,” he lowered his voice, glancing furtively at the clerk who had yet to take her eyes off us.

“Ok. Talk,” I demanded, crossing my arms across my chest and tapping my foot impatiently.

“Obviously, I'm not going to talk to you here,” he laughed.

Talbott's eyes suddenly relaxed and twinkled with amusement. I grew irritated beyond what was healthy. This was a bad way to start off a rebellion, if the bad guys didn't even take me seriously.

“Are you laughing at me?” I whispered harshly. I pulled at his magic, not intending to take it right that moment, but needing to drive home the point that in a second I could drain his life's blood from him and leave him helpless and human.

“All right, I'm sorry.” Talbott jerked his shoulder back as if he could reclaim the small, stolen increment of electricity. His chocolate brown eyes flashed helplessly, mourning the loss of what little magic I took and then his expression turned offended, like he thought me above taking his magic, like we were friends, as if he wasn't one of them, one of those that had my grandfather killed and kidnapped my brother.

I backed off, holding my hands up in surrender, but it was my turn to be amused. Now, he would take me seriously. It might not matter by the end of our conversation, I would probably take his magic anyway, but at least I could be civil for a now.

“Can I have it back?” Talbott worked at staying polite, but the panic in his eyes was unmistakeable.

“No, you can't,” I hissed with firm resolve, as if I knew how but wouldn't. The truth was, I still had no idea how to return stolen magic once I took it and Talbott was not about to be the first recipient of the miracle should I figure out how to perform it.