Was Therese anti–Elder Races, like Brandon? Was that why she had reacted so badly to Khalil’s appearance? Grace had thought it was because Therese got caught snooping. Had Therese been snooping because she had heard a rumor about a Djinn hanging around? What about Janice? Had this whole thing begun with her, because attracting a Djinn’s interest is generally not considered to be a good thing, Grace?
Spinning in circles like this made her head hurt. Worse, it made her angry. If quarterly work days were going to make her feel like this, she wanted to tell them all to fuck off. But she couldn’t do without them or the babysitting roster, unless things changed.
It all came down to the Oracle’s Power. How she used it. What she made of it.
And that came down to her.
She reached the cool, spacious cavern. After walking around and checking the entire space, she turned off her flashlight and let her eyes adjust. She had left the door propped open on the surface. A diffuse shaft of light from the tunnel cut through the absolute blackness.
Many people had a problem with caves, but Grace didn’t. She liked it down here. The cavern itself was beautiful. Not only did it call to the Power that lived inside her, but it was utterly silent and peaceful. In the darkness, it felt womblike, filled with the potential birth of limitless possibilities.
The Oracle’s moon was soon, perhaps tonight or tomorrow. She could feel the approach, especially here in the dark. It felt like a convergence, all times, the past and all possible futures, coming together.
She had been taught that she could only access the Power deep in the earth, yet it had come in daylight, and not just once. She had called it up several times now.
She’d also been told that the Oracle could not consult the Power for herself, but only for others. Yet she had called the ghost of the serpent woman and had talked with her.
What else had she been taught that was wrong, or at the very least incomplete?
Each Oracle acts as a different lens for the Power, Isalynn had said. You will bring your own strengths and abilities to the experience.
Which was exactly what? She wished she could ask her future self for advice.
She let the cloth fall away from the mask, and she held it up to her face, pretending she was a petitioner. How did they feel when they faced the mask? This time she barely touched the Power before it welled up, more readily than ever before.
The Power felt good in the dark, filling her to the brim and then spilling out into the cavern, an endless witching sea. She sensed thousands of sparks in the sea like distant glints of moonlight on water, and all the sparks were ghosts. She searched for ghosts she recognized, Petra, her grandmother, the serpent woman, but she didn’t see any of them.
Visions normally came when the Oracle used the petitioner as a focus as she called up the Power. Cuelebre had been an inferno of Power; perhaps his ferocious energy had been what had drawn the Oracle. The serpent woman had been an unusual ghost, attached to the Oracle’s Power and to Grace. For Grace to get any specific vision now, she needed more of an outside focus. Disappointed, she let go of the dark sea. She wrapped the mask up again as it began to subside.
Then something else Powerful flowed down the tunnel to join her in the dark. It was a Djinn, but unlike any Djinn Grace had met thus far. This presence was jagged with razored edges. It radiated a discordance that cut at her awareness. She held herself utterly still, thinking hard.
Then she turned on the flashlight.
The form of a tall woman, dressed in black, stood in front of her. The Djinn’s form had a lethal grace. Her ivory face was regal and fierce, a feminine version of a handsome, inhuman visage that had already become so dearly familiar to Grace. Crimson hair flowed like blood past her shoulders, and her eyes were two black, crystalline stars.
She said into the cavern’s absolute silence, “Hello, Phaedra.”
This time on Saturday nothing would interrupt Khalil’s agenda.
Djinn were cursed with a terminal curiosity. It was often their worst weakness, and sometimes it was their downfall.
Khalil was no exception. If a door was open, he peeked through it. If it was closed, it made the peeking so much better. If the door was locked, well. There was a natural progression to this sort of thing.
Things weren’t adding up, and he didn’t like it. The ancient social contract between Oracle and petitioner, the PayPal link on the website, the general shabbiness of Grace’s home, the lack of repair. Her inability to access premium health care when she needed it the most, the unpaid bills, a cover letter to apply for a job, when she already had to do too much, had to meet too many responsibilities, was too alone.
He called in one of the multitude of favors owed to him, this time from a Djinn who had a particular facility with accessing information via the Internet. The information Khalil was interested in wasn’t particularly hard to find. Grace’s bank account balance was abysmal, and the money that the website drew in was hardly worth the breath it took to mention.
That was when Khalil grew angry. He searched for his old ally Carling and her lover Rune. They weren’t in hiding, so they weren’t particularly hard to find either.