Page 46 of The Shadowed Oracle
Ingrid flashed a sheepish smile, feeling ignorant in an entirely different way than she had been those last twenty-four hours.
In the short pause Tyla allowed, Ingrid asked, “What about Sylan? Will the stones keep him away, too?”
“No,” Tyla declared stiffly. “That relies on the machinery Gianna placed around the property.” Another realization hit her. “Dean’s mother,” she said, “Her name was Gianna. She was a physics professor before all of this dominated her time. Made all kinds of gadgets and weapons with the materials Karis provided her. A bloody genius, really. A bit of a bore, but genius.”
Ingrid hummed, looking around at all the computer parts and antique technology in the fortress. “Dean’s mom built all those?”
“Charming, right? If you look hard enough, you’d find dozens of odd little toys lying around this place.”
Ingrid tried momentarily to do so, locking onto a few mismatched, homemade pieces, but Tyla’s demanding voice broke her concentration again.
“In conclusion, if we place the stones further apart than two hundred feet, it’s possible they won’t engage with each other’s energy. The power works like a mirror reflecting off each other. A solitary stone will sputter out, but not if it’s supplemented by others.”
Instinctively, Ingrid reached for her father’s necklace. Since last night, she’d found solace in the act of rubbing her thumb over the flat, plated surface in the back when she was anxious. Just like she was doing now.
Tyla’s eyes drifted to Ingrid’s neck. “Did someone close to you give you that?” she asked.
“My father.” Ingrid said it without thinking, that naturally comforting aura of Tyla’s making it so easy to speak freely. “It was the only thing he left me. And I thought, I don’t know, that maybe it was his way of protecting me?”
“It’s possible,” Tyla said optimistically. “There are old stories. That Oracles and Magi used stones like backup reserves. A bank vault, of sorts. Storing some of their power into the stone and using it when they’re in need.”
“So this one,” Ingrid held the stone up higher. “It might have some of him, or I mean, some of his power inside?”
“Could be.” Tyla was hardly confident, and made sure that was clear once she saw the effect it had on Ingrid. “But I can’t promise anything. They’re just old stories.”
Old stories or not, Ingrid wondered at it. If her father only sought to be rid of his parental duties, then he would’ve taken off with every tool at his disposal. He would’ve been selfish. He would’ve taken the stone for his own protection. But he hadn’t. He’d left it for her. Which meant if the stone she wore around her neck had possessed some of her father’s power all these years, just sitting there, waiting to help her, to protect her…
Ingrid didn’t let herself go further. It wasn’t going to lead to anything anyway. Not yet, at least.
When Ingrid pulled herself from her daydream, she saw that Tyla had moved further into the darkness of the basement, standing adjacent to a row of metal roll-up doors. They’d been there all along, yet Ingrid had only just noticed how large they were—easily nine feet tall, ribbed and thick like most of the other protective walls in the fortress, with metal handles and ropes at the bottom for closing and opening.
With the surrounding chaos of wires, machinery, and weapons lying about as casually as tissue boxes, they’d gotten lost somehow.
But now Ingrid was paying attention.
“Now comes the fun part,” Tyla said, bending down to yank one of the handles upward. It took both her hands, and a considerably explosive motion for Tyla to get it up in one fluid motion. Once it was locked into place and tied up, Ingrid saw the very front of a large display rack lit by neon red lights, holding swords of various sizes and styles, knives, and bows mounted to the wall and extending a few rows into the deep alcove. It was enough to supply a small army.
But it didn’t end there. Taking another series of quick steps and lifting the other three doors open, Tyla revealed even more weapons, suits of full battle armor, leather vests and cloaks that Ingrid gleaned were to conceal the weapons, and an entire section of what appeared to be canning jars full of spices and herbs.
“These are all grown in Ealis,” Tyla said, jerking her head to the odd collection of vegetation. “Each of them has some very specific purpose, but you should really talk to Dean if you want the full textbook explanation on those.”
At the mention of him, Ingrid burned a hole between Tyla’s eyes with a glare.
“What’s that for?” Tyla asked. “What have I said now?”
Ingrid just kept staring.
“Oh. Right. Theenamoredcomment. I’m sorry if I embarrassed?—”
“You did,” Ingrid said. “Made me feel like a silly little girl, honestly.”
Tyla lowered her head. “And truly, I’m sorry for that. But it had to be said. Ever since Dean started following you around, he’s become—how do I put this? Distracted. I just wanted to snap him out of it.”
“You think you succeeded at that?” The question fell from Ingrid’s lips before she had a chance to think about what it might’ve implied.
“Perfect.” Tyla exhaled deeply. “You’re smitten, too?”
“Not at all,” Ingrid shot back a little too quickly, too sharply.
