Page 31 of The Oracle's Journey

“You do excellent work, Master Dwarf.” I could have the inn’s tavern fill it for me. “I’ll take it if the price is right.”

We didn’t haggle because I believed his asking price was far too low.

“You’re the first to admire this one, and it’s been sitting there for an age now. I’m happy to price it that way for you.” He wrapped it in soft cloth and tied it with brown twine. “And if he isn’t grateful, you send him packing, young lady.” he said, offering me a wink.

“Thank you, sir.” I gave him a fond smile in return. “Would there happen to be a bookseller in town?”

They didn’t have a bookstore, but the general store happened to have a secondhand book section. It was on the way back to the inn so I stopped to browse. I asked the young woman working there what she would recommend for someone her own age. Emma needed something other than Lhoris and me to explore her sense of romance. The shop girl assured me that the recommendation contained no smut.

“I’ve read it. It is a romance, first and foremost,” she said, “but there’s adventure and magic. Lords, ladies, and knights. But nothing untoward.”

“Oh, perfect! Thank you.” Judith would thrash me if I gave the impressionable Emma something lewd.

Lhoris

I met Oz back at the inn before inquiring about someone that could help us with our enchanted hair. Magic mat? Bewitched braid? Enchanted entanglement? It was too absurd to even have a pleasing description.

Oz was directed by the innkeeper to a wizened old dwarf who kept an office above the dairy shop. He greeted us at the door of said office in fine, gold and earth tone dwarven robes, a symbol of his station in the community. His beard hung below his rounded stomach, tucked under the belt that wrapped around his considerable middle and his bulbous nose was bright red, as though it had been burned recently. He smiled merrily at Oz but scowled when his eyes fell upon me. I glanced at Oz and tipped my head toward the dwarf, indicating she should initiate the conversation. We would have less trouble if I let her take the lead.

“Good afternoon,” she said, nodding in greeting. “I am Ozanna Black, and this is my companion, Lhoris Virra. We have come seeking your wisdom of enchantments.”

“Togruid Onyxtoe,” he said, “come in, Ms. Black. Your companion, too, if he can behave.” Onyxtoe glared at me. I let the corners of my mouth pull up in a modest smile because I found that smiling with teeth around nervous people tended to make matters worse—at least until they get to know me better.

“I assure you, sir, that he has excellent manners,” Oz said, her tone impatient and brittle. I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had taken umbrage on my behalf.

Onyxtoe led us into his office, and my jaw almost dropped. I’d never seen so much information crammed in such a small place. Books lined the office in double rows on floor to ceiling shelves. Onyxtoe even had an overflow of books in stacks on the floor in front of the shelves. Papers and gadgets covered the desk, as would be proper in a working enchanters office, I supposed. Everything else was ordered chaos. Boxes full of various seemingly random items clustered in the far corner of the room, blocking anyone from accessing the bookcases behind them. The few wall spaces not concealed by bookcases had hooks with all manner of objects and charms. The room hummed with magic cast by this dwarf, and it almost numbed my magic-sensitive ear points.The one soft touch in the space was a windowsill full of potted green plants.

Although Onyxtoe offered a chair to Oz the old dwarf neglected to extend the same courtesy to me. Reading book titles, I followed the conversation with one ear instead.

“Master Onyxtoe,” Oz started curtly, “what we believe to be a divine power has worked some sort of … magic on us.” She cut right to the point and undid the leather tie in her hair. “It wove our hair together while we slept.” She leaned forward, over the desk and presented the tangle.

A flash judgment appeared in Onyxtoe’s eyes, but it disappeared the moment he touched the plait. He gasped and withdrew his fingers.

“It’s certainly divine,” Onyxtoe said in a strong, steady voice that did not match his aged exterior. He snapped at me. Startled from my reverie, I looked up. “Do you still have the weaving in your hair?” I stepped forward and pulled my half of the tangle forward. The old dwarf gave the hair an impatient little tug and I assumed he wanted me to lean in closer. I patiently took a knee next to Oz who was staring daggers at Onyxtoe.

The old dwarf placed the two parts of the plait together, as they would have been before Oz cut it, and donned a pair of spectacles. Humming to himself, he seemed engrossed in whatever he was seeing, then muttered something in his own language before changing out the spectacles for another set with a pearlescent sheen in the lens.

Oz gave me a look that asked, did you understand that? To which I shrugged and shook my head as if to say, no, why are you so angry? She pursed her lips and somehow, I just knew she meant, He’s treating you like shit, and it’s pissing me off!

Sitting back in his seat, Onyxtoe guffawed, startling both of us. He wiped a tear from one of his glittering eyes.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” he said once he’d worked his way down to just a giggle. “Dear girl, I didn’t set out to make you angry. I was making certain your elf wasn’t as threatening as he appears. But it seems I was in greater danger from you.” Oz sat back in her chair and snatched her hair back with a frown. She covered the hand that I’d rested on the arm of her chair and gave it a squeeze. Onyxtoe continued, “I apologize, Lhoris Virra. Your people have the reputation of being fearsome and cruel. I did not want to appear too soft until I had a better idea of your intentions.”

“No need to apologize, Master Onyxtoe. I am intimately familiar with that reputation and admit I am somewhat accustomed to being treated just so.”

Onyxtoe straightened his robes and leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair. “Have a seat. Let us discuss your situation. First, the divine creature has bound itself to you. Not the other way around. You can be free of her, but she can’t be free of you and could suffer being separated from you for long.”

“Oh.” Oz frowned and looked a little stricken. “That’s not good.”

“It would explain why she’s struggled,” I said. “She did say she was using us as an anchor to come back to herself.”

“It can be undone,” Onyxtoe said thoughtfully, “though I get the sense you’re not sure if you should. Tell me the whole story.”

So, we did. Onyxtoe listened intently while I explained as much as I knew, with Oz adding details.

Onyxtoe sat for a few minutes in consideration. “I could make better judgment if I could meet this young woman. But I think your suspicions are correct. She’s in the process of Becoming. She’s discovering new power, and there’s nobody to teach her. She’ll probably cause quite a bit more trouble in the coming weeks.” He got up from his seat and went to a bookshelf by his office door. “You don’t understand dwarvish,” he said as more of a statement than a question. “Can you read it?”

“No, sir,” I looked at Oz questioningly. She shook her head.

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