Page 64 of The Shadowed Oracle
She’d have to wear these things in her eyes until it was over. She’d have to pretend. To keep herself a secret. Even stranded on a new world, she still had to wear masks.
“Now, where were we?” Dean continued rifling through his bag, digging through it wildly, removing trinkets and baggies like a magician pulling a ribbon from a hat.
It was yet another jar he settled on, but Ingrid gleaned immediately thatthisjar was different. Something in the way Dean looked at it was oddly concerning. He held it oddly, too. Far away from his face as if he was worried about getting a whiff of it. With both hands covering the glass to hide its contents, he said in a cautious tone, “This one requires a disclaimer. Could be difficult to stomach.”
“Yeah yeah.” Ingrid made a circling motion with her hand, urging him to go on. No matter how grotesque it was, she couldn’t imagine a plant being able to turn her stomach. She’d had to clean the public toilets after a New Year’s party in her first year at The Boneyard, after no less than two busboys quit over an accidental projectile in the women’s room. She’d barely winced atthatsight, so she figured she could handle a?—
Ingrid halted as her eyes met a pale, fleshy insect the size of a tarantula. What looked like twelve legs stuck out from a bulbous pink body. At the back was a long stinger, and atop the torsowas a circular head, near-white hair sprouting out sparsely, with monstrously big eyes perched like a frog’s.
“Oh, no! Why!?” She had never seen a more unsettling combination of traits on a creature. Not even the Ungii came close. She closed her eyes and turned her head. “When did we switch from plants to dead insects?!”
Dean only chuckled, ignoring the question. “It’s called a Swinett. Fascinating little thing. Incredibly resourceful.”
Ingrid held back her disgust as best she could.
“The stinger is full of venom, poisonous enough to kill an elephant. Its eyes can roll back 180 degrees to see if anything is approaching. But the real prize is this, here.” He titled the preserved corpse upside down. “At the center of its abdomen is a spinneret. Like a spider. Though, instead of silk, it produces a far stickier and more pliant substance.”
Still looking away, Ingrid asked, “That’s great and all, but, umm, how will this help us?”
“How will ithelp? The webbing is translucent! We can set undetectable traps. Even big bad Sylan would need a good twenty to thirty minutes to get free of this stuff.”
Ingrid frowned. “But… it’s dead.” Last time she checked, getting a dead thing to do anything for you was somewhat difficult.
“Correct! But that’s the beauty of it. The web glands continue to work after death. Did you notice there wasn’t any formaldehyde in this jar?” He didn’t wait for Ingrid to answer. “That’s because the exterior body doesn’t decay at all. Only the vital organs. Which are broken down inside and used to make, you guessed it, even more web.”
Even with her head still turned, Ingrid could hear the grin in his voice. The way that he spoke of it was like a child with an obsessive toy collection. It made sense in an endearing, if not fairly creepy way. From what Ingrid had learned of hisupbringing, there weren’t many hobbies available to him outside of weapons training and mechanical engineering. Not exactly suitable for a boy of six. But magical plants and little critters? It was nearly reminiscent of a normal American boy.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Ingrid said, rounding her eyes back to him finally. “The few times you came here to Ealis, when you were younger, what was it like?”
He didn’t need time to think about it. “Intoxicating. You’ve seen part of it, and it’s still so beautiful, but back then, when Makkar was just starting to spread his influence, even the air gave you a high. People travelled without worry. Friendly little animals were running around everywhere. And the markets on any given day, it was like going to the circus, except all the tricks were real. It was every little kid’s dream.”
“And your mother never thought about staying?” Ingrid asked gently. “Of trying to live here full-time?”
“No. We couldn’t. Only a year later, Makkar’s power had spread too far. The anti-human narrative was everywhere. It wasn’t safe, so we had to stop visiting, had to forget about it. I just didn’t ever think I’d forget the magic of this place in the process. After that was gone, it was impossible to think of Ealis in a positive light, or how the secret of it created this massive, gaping divide between me and kids my age.”
Ingrid felt a tug of sorrow at his words. It hadn’t fully dawned on her until then how similar their early lives were, how easily she could relate to Dean’s strife, and how young and unprepared he’d been to handle it. Then, noticing the way the starlight hit his tanned skin, she remembered Dean’s scarring all along his chest and torso. Even during their escape, she’d gotten a good look. They appeared old, with stretched and pale ridges only present in wounds suffered long ago. She wondered if he’d gotten them as a young man, or as a boy, when training for this very war he was now thrust in the center of.
“That’s exactly how I thought of the Shades haunting me,” Ingrid offered after a moment. “Always felt like it built this massive wall up between myself and everyone else. I still catch myself holding my breath, waiting for the nightmares to come back.”
Dean’s head dropped slightly, like her words had knocked the wind out of him. “I always took it for granted when Karis taught me how to block the Shades out. To keep them away for good. So I… I can’t imagine. If they ever come back, I’d be happy to teach you the viseer-less method.”
Ingrid nodded. “If Tyla lets you, that is.”
“Ahh, right. She did seem opposed to the idea.” Dean acted as if he’d forgotten about the embarrassing moment until now. “But soon you won’t need either of us. You’ll surpass all our abilities in no time, so I’m going to serve you in any way I can before then.”
“Serve?” Ingrid laughed, choking on the words. “I’m not a fucking queen. Relax.”
Dean remained serious. “You could be. You could be my queen, someday. A few of the Eastern kingdoms lost their rulers early on in this war. And very few of those kingdoms pass down the throne through blood. If you defeat Makkar, you could have your pick. They’d welcome the last Oracle with a parade and parties lasting weeks.” He looked at Ingrid shyly.. “I don’t know. Something to think about.”
She was silent a moment, fighting the urge to ridicule the idea further, before settling on a sarcastic whisper, “I’ll mull it over.”
“Really?” Dean sat back in his chair, the muscles in his forearms rippling as he rested his hands on his head. “You never wanted power? Never wanted to be looked up to? Little Ingrid Lourdes never had any big dreams?”
“To have a family,” Ingrid blurted out, and quickly shuddered at the admission.
Dean’s expression deflated. “Of course. Stupid question. Sorry.”
Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t be.”
