Page 65 of The Oracle's Journey

“This is what he did to you, Emma,” said Lhoris. “He ruined us all, but the greatest loss will be yours if you continue to embrace this pain.”

Emma got to her feet and glided across the floor toward us, her toes just grazing the stone floor, staring hard at her reflection. “Is it a trick?”

“No,” I said tentatively. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a mirror now.”

“We would never lie to you,” Lhoris added, hand over his heart. “We love you, Emma. We want you back.”

“But I don’t know how. I don’t know the way back,” Emma choked out and slowly shook her head. “I have no anchor.”

Lhoris raised his free hand and summoned a brilliant flickering globe of blue-white fire. “Perhaps you don’t need an anchor anymore? Look at your face in the fire. Maybe you’ll see the way?” And he held the flame just to the side of her face as she gazed into the mirror.

Emma

Who am I?

At first, all I saw was my unchanged reflection. It was harsh and stoney, no joy, no love, no life, just numbness. It was cold; it was dead.

That couldn’t possibly be me. I wasn’t like that.

I was passionate. I was the fire of life.

Then I watched as another version flickered into being, this one cruel and soulless. The joy there was a twisted mockery of emotion, a true monster of hatred.

No, that wasn’t me either.

I’d never been one to hate. I’d never wanted to be cruel before.

Face after face flickered in the flame … none of them mine.

One last shift of the flame brought something familiar. Twinkling hazel eyes, rosy cheeks; radiating such love and warmth that the darkness nested within me shriveled with just a glance of the reflection’s intention. That power would push away the darkness and rage that I had swallowed like poison.

“Yes,” I started with a whisper, “this is it. This is what I want. This is who I am!” I ended with a roar!

I reached out to that vision in the mirror, and we embraced. The vision held me tight and whispered, “I know what to do next.”

I padded over to Nicolas’ shattered body and knelt over him. I started weaving it back together, mending the cuts and gashes, my fingers moving over each one as if braiding something together just above his skin. Every broken bone, every damaged organ woven back to perfection. It seemed to take forever, but everyone around me was so still that I wondered if they were somehow frozen in time.

That done I closed my eyes and reached out to find death, because that is where I knew I would find his spark, his soul—whatever one could call it, it was Nicolas. Death itself was a peaceful black ocean, stretching on into eternity, still and calm beneath a starry night sky. I was surprised to find it wasn’t malicious or evil, just inevitable. But the inky waters shrank away from my toes as I walked down the shores of life to death’s edge. It retreated, leaving Nicolas where I could reach him, as if it gave me what I wanted out of revulsion, to hasten the departure of my presence. I plucked him up and cradled that flickering mote of amber light against my breast, imbuing it with warmth and vitality. Then I popped it in my mouth and leaned over to place my lips upon his. I breathed life, his life, all the years he had ahead, back into his waiting body.

I ended that breath with a kiss, so the first thing he would feel upon returning home was a sense of being loved. To chase away the fear and agony that had been his final days with Ubras de Rais.

I could do at least that for him.

Lobikno

There was a storm brewing in my head.

If I didn’t look straight at it, it stayed in that dark corner of my mind. My throat felt tight, though, knowing it was just a matter of time before I had to look. I managed to keep moving forward, counting the steps up the tower, focused on the task before me. I sure as shit didn’t contribute much after we got to the laboratory, but I wasn’t there for Emma, like Lhoris and Ozanna were. I watched, numb, for a few minutes as Emma worked blurring magic over her duke and came back to myself a little bit when the demi-goddess kissed his repaired body. The swell of magic left my ears vibrating and shocked me out of my stupor.

Then Nicolas sat up abruptly and almost rammed Emma in the face. “Emma! You’re okay?” The boy shook and his eyes shifted around the room, as if orienting himself.

“Oh, Nicolas!” she said, crying, nearly strangling him with a hug.

I had never seen somebody cry like that before, and I’d seen plenty of tears in my years. Hers trailed slowly down her cheeks, thick like honey, and smelled like … flowers?

“I’m okay,” she sobbed.

The walls around us stopped that damned strange wobbling. The power that set my teeth buzzing when we first arrived had settled, too, and the gravity seemed lighter, the air less dense. The pressure from the flood of Emma’s magic had been tangible beyond solely magical senses and I was very relieved it was gone. Ozanna and Lhoris visibly relaxed and sort of drifted into each other, sharing a weary half embrace that seemed to help them stay on their feet.

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