Page 42 of The Shadowed Oracle
She started to answer it, but was cut off.
“We’ll be asking the questions now,” Raidinn growled. “Shutting up and listening is all we need from you.”
At the command, the Wrane cowered ever so slightly, shrinking into the black cloak draped over its shoulders. Ingrid tried to imagine what Raidinn had possibly done to frighten a creature like this, but was at a loss. If neither of the twins possessed any of the gifts the powerful Viator possessed, then what other tricks did he have?
“Ask your questions,” the Wrane replied, still with that twinge of fear.
“Why did your Master send his top general to a place like this?” Dean asked simply.
Silence.
“Why is Sylan Aloris on Earth? Why?” Dean sounded as if he were talking to a child. “And in this town, of all places?”
The Wrane only stared back at him with a black grin, flashing its small but sharp teeth.
Raidinn watched the silent exchange for a moment before stepping forward, a menacing scowl on his face. He cocked hishead. Then, just by reaching into his pocket like he might pull out some ancient weapon, he caused the Wrane to stiffen again.
“Stop!” the Wrane pleaded, “There’s no need! I will answer your inquests, Viator.”
“Why is Sylan Aloris here?” Dean repeated.
“I do not know,” it said, voice losing all luster. “You are misguided if you believe our blessed King Makkar would trust anyone with such information, let alone a lowly servant like myself. I know nothing, nothing, I told you! It was merely a coincidence I happened upon the general’s retinue.” It let out a sharp series of clicks and grunts.
“Give us your best guess, then. And be quick about it.” Raidinn’s hand was fully submerged in his pocket now, taunting the bony prisoner.
The creature made no indication he wouldn’t comply, but twisted its long neck to Dean first and asked, “If you remove the brute, I will do as you wish. But please, no more.”
“Fuuuuck that.” Raidinn looked to Dean expecting to find an agreeable nod, but only found his old friend waving him over. He did so, head hung, and Dean held his hand out, waiting for Raidinn to retrieve the object from his pocket. They made a discreet exchange, then Dean inspected the contents for a moment, holding it up to the light where all could see.
To Ingrid’s disappointment, it was only a small kitchen bag. Just a common plastic bag, containing three small seedlings inside.
“What is that?” Ingrid asked.
“Nothing. Not a damn thing! Just Wrane nonsense.” Raidinn flipped a vulgar gesture at the prisoner and slammed the door on his way out.
“They are seedlings from their sacred Lyperion tree,” Tyla said after a moment. “There are few left in Ealis. And the treetheseseeds belonged to, it was the oldest of them. It was soresilient that the Wranes worshipped it for thousands of years.” She looked at the bag Dean was holding in his hand. “Raidinn and I took those off a few particular stingy Wrane corpses. They’re among the last remnants of the original tree, which died many years ago. Just like the dying forest they used to?—”
Clank.
Clank.
Clank clank clank.
The Wrane thrusted its blade-like hands against the metal bars with all its strength. The cell rattled viciously, making it feel like the room itself shifted, and causing Ingrid to take a cautious step back. Where the first moments in the presence of it felt like prodding, this new sensation felt like the Wrane was sending a barrage of arrows at Ingrid’s mind.
Her vision went slightly blurry.
“You ignorant Earth-scum!” The Wrane growled, “Heartwood Forest is not dying. We will return to it long before this war ends. It grows by the hour. With every life we give to Ealis, it repays us tenfold!”
The phrase was familiar. Ingrid had seen something like it on the loose piece of parchment Dean pulled from Karis’s notebook. Though still focused on closing the walls of her mind, Ingrid couldn’t help recalling the moment from the night before, when Dean had spoken about the old traditions of Makkar and his followers. How they viewed humans as food for their world—sacrificial flesh.
Wranes must’ve been promised the restoration of their homeland, Ingrid gathered, in exchange for more lambs.
“By the minute!” The Wrane kept on. “It is restored!”
“Is it now?Really. How convenient.” Tyla stepped out from behind the control panel and stood even with Ingrid, both of them now glaring at the jailed creature. “Have you actually seen it? Witnessed it with your own eyes? I may be Earth-scum, butevery mention of Heartwood Forest is usually followed by tales of the drought, and the mindless monsters now infesting it.”
The Wrane growled but did not speak.
