Page 19 of Incubus

“You got what you asked for.” I smoothed my shirt into place. “Now let me in.”

“Fine.” A low grumble carried on the air as the doors swung inward, revealing a dark hallway. Standing to the side was a towheaded boy who could have been no more than fourteen.

“You little creep!” I darted for him, grabbing his ear and twisting it. The boy let out a yowl and helplessly tried to wrest my hand away. “You did this? I ought to take you outside and—”

“Jakan!” A regal-looking woman ran down the hallway, her purple robes flowing out behind her. “Release my son!”

“Why don’t you tell your mother what you’ve been up to?” I gave him a push toward the woman, reluctantly letting go of his ear.

The woman’s face went from worry to motherly curiosity in an instant. “What have you done?”

“Nothing!” he yelled, pointing at me. “She hurt me!”

The woman, whose hair was plaited down each side and seemed to be interwoven with pure gold, grabbed Jakan by the chin and looked at me questioningly. I was taken aback—the woman’s eyes seemed to be pools of mercury that were highlighted with pinpricks of starlight. Recognition flashed across the woman’s face before she looked back at Jakan and scolded him in a language I didn’t recognize. The boy only nodded and seemed relieved when she pointed for him to continue down the hallway. He ran off happily, giving me an uncouth gesture before disappearing from view.

“I am so sorry about that! You know how teenagers can be, especially boys,” the woman said, gesturing for me to follow her down the hall. I peeked around her and saw a rich chamber lay beyond, decorated in lush silks and tapestries. How all these items made their way to the top of a desolate mountain with no discernible path, only the gods knew.

“But I didn’t even tell you what he did.” I was more than ready to rat the boy out and then some.

With a graceful shrug, the woman said, “Oh, I already know. I’m the Oracle.”

Once settled comfortably in what I learned was the Oracle’s living room, I took a good look around. The place was fit for a queen: gold inlay dotted the walls and everywhere I looked, a luxurious gem met my eye. Being the Oracle wasn’t such a bad gig.

I dug into my backpack to retrieve a solid-gold headdress I’d brought for payment to the Oracle. Liatra, as she was called, took it with a satisfied gleam in her eye. “Truly, this is a worthy gift.”

I was glad to hear it, especially after seeing all the other “gifts” that adorned the chamber.

It took a century of work in the mortal world to buy an offering worthy of the powerful Oracle. Early on in my exile, I realized I would need to visit the age-old seer if I had any hope of getting back into Artemis’s good graces, and one couldn’t go to the Oracle empty-handed.

So, I took my first earthly job at an embroidery house in New York, where I sewed tiny bits of jewels and luxurious thread onto pieces of muslin that were as light as air. The work was painstaking and paid very little, but it kept me occupied and allowed me to save some. Though I spent years on embroidery work, my eyesight never failing and my fingers never becoming arthritic like all the other women in the shop, I took several side jobs, including writing tales of earth for Underworlders. The series—akin to a travel guide with local anecdotes—sold well, and I was able to amass a small fortune even more quickly. I saved every dime I could, and now I’d made it to the Oracle’s inner sanctum. I’d made it.

I smiled to myself, finally feeling like I was on the right path.

“I know why you have come,” the Oracle said, carefully settling the headdress next to the biggest emerald I had ever seen. It easily dwarfed my fist and sparkled from a thousand facets.

I pulled my gaze away from the gem and stowed the goofy grin. “Can you help me?”

“I can only tell you what I see. If it helps, then it helps. If it hurts, then it hurts. It’s all fate, you see.” The Oracle’s voice was dreamy, her mercury eyes flickering to pure starlight. “Give me your hands.”

I eagerly reached out to her, ready to get back to the forests of Olympus.

Once our hands were joined, Liatra began swaying gently side to side, the ornate jade earrings that hung past her shoulders jingling to the rhythm of her movements.

She frowned, making me worry she was seeing something awful. “I see a man. No, a wolf,” Liatra corrected.

“No, that’s my past.” Of course seeing what Farrow had done to me would make any woman frown.

“Past. Future. All is one,” Her voice had gone guttural, almost animal. I bit my tongue and watched Liatra continue to sway.

She rocked for minutes on end. I analyzed every movement, anticipating what the Oracle would tell me.

“Your heart’s desire. I see it,” Liatra finally said with great effort.

“Artemis’s favor.” I could have told her that.

Liatra didn’t seem to hear me. “What your heart yearns for can be yours.”

“How?” All my struggles had led me to this and I was about to get my answers.

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