Page 83 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Thirty

WHEN ELIJAH ANDJanelle walked down to the garden, they saw that the greenhouse door had already been propped open.

Bright green vines climbed the glass walls, with rose-colored petals blooming out. They slowly walked closer and felt the heat of the living walls radiate against their skin.

The Oracle stood at the back, her body molded into a large tree trunk, whose branches dropped low, almost encasing her like a shield.

Elijah raised a brow. “It’s a Dryad,” he said, turning to Janelle, who stood by the doorway, not entering the greenhouse. “What are you doing? Come inside,” he ordered.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I’m fine right here.”

He gave her a quizzical look and turned his attention back to the Dryad.

“Another one of my mother’s tales,” Elijah said. “A Dryad can’t always be trusted, but an Oracle? They cannot lie or hurt you.”

“Why do you want to know your future, Elijah?” Janelle asked. “Isn’t your destiny yours to choose? What if she tells you something you don’t like? Would or could you try to change it anyway?”

He shrugged. “I was tempted to use the Kroneon to look into my future,” he said. “I chose not to for that very purpose.”

“Then why now?”

“Because,” he said. “Everything has changed.”

“What has changed?”

The Oracle suddenly lit up as if she had just become aware of their presence, encasing Elijah in light so strong he could touch it.

The words rose in him, but he stumbled as he tried to get them out. His tongue felt thick in his mouth.

Surely Janelle knows the answer already, he thought, which ultimately freed his mind enough to let him speak.

“You,” he finally said. “You’re what has changed.”

Everything he had questioned since the moment they locked eyes in his hallway would soon be answered, and as much as he wanted to know his fate, he was afraid. Janelle’s confused expression didn’t ease his discomfort. Her expression looked dark, distant.

“I feel something when I’m with you, Janelle,” he confessed. “Not just the flutter in my stomach whenever you smile. Not the pain in my chest when you’re hurt or the rage I feel when someone else touches you. My magic suddenly doesn’t feel like it’s dragging me down into the underworld. It doesn’t feel like I can be lost because of my darkness. It’s because your light brings me back. Your light fills my dark, and I don’t understand it.”

Janelle pressed her lips together, taking a few heavy breaths. She stayed silent, though, and Elijah wished so desperately he could read her thoughts.

The Oracle cocked her head, and her branches moved as if the wind had blown through the window.

“King Elijah Delamere. Son of Matthias Delamere and Gal Castellan,” she said softly. Her feminine voice carried an echo throughout the glass room.

“Yes,” he said, swallowing before stepping forward. The Dryad’s branches moved again.

“Can you see?” he asked. “Can you see me?” Elijah poked his chest.

The Dryad extended her branch and coiled it around his body but didn’t squeeze; the only light in the room twinkled brightly along her bark like yellow diamonds.

“I know you don’t want to be king,” she said.

She’s right, he thought, taken aback by having his heart read aloud. He craved the power but being king reminded him too much of his father and what he had molded Elijah to become.

He took a deep breath, shook away his feelings, and asked the question he was standing there for.

“Do you see her?”

“Elijah!” Janelle interrupted, sprinting forward, but the light shield was so strong it blasted her back before she could reach him.

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