Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #04)

She pulled on everything she had and threw the expulsion spell. She meant to reach for the Power she had been born with, but her anger got in the way. Both Powers jettisoned out of her. She felt the spell strike Phaedra full on.

 

The force of it lifted Phaedra’s physical form and hurled her across the cavern. She struck the wall and slammed into the ground.

 

“Oh, shit,” Grace said. Oh, shit. She limped over to Phaedra’s prone figure as fast as she could. The Djinn was sprawled on her stomach, dark red hair covering her face. “Are you all right?”

 

Phaedra began to laugh as Grace reached her. “The crippled Oracle has quite a punch. I didn’t see that coming.”

 

“I didn’t either,” Grace said. “You pissed me off and I lost my temper.”

 

Phaedra pushed her hair back. A champagne-colored liquid trickled from the corner of her mouth. As Grace watched, the liquid faded back into the Djinn’s skin. Awkwardly, Grace struggled to kneel on her good leg, as she said, “You’re not bleeding, are you?”

 

Phaedra came up on her hands and knees to face Grace, her expression mocking. “Don’t tell me you care.”

 

“Don’t confuse who you are with the rest of the world,” Grace snapped. “I do care. You’re the one who doesn’t.”

 

The mockery faded from Phaedra’s face. Grace kept her guard up and both Powers at hand as they stared at each other. As she focused on Phaedra, something roused in the dark sea. She held her breath and concentrated.

 

She said, “If you ever do want to petition the Oracle, there is someone who would like to see you.”

 

Rage and curiosity warred for supremacy in Phaedra’s expression. “Who is it?”

 

Grace said, “A ghost.”

 

She watched as the rage won. Phaedra bared her teeth and spat, “My mother?”

 

“No,” Grace told her. Balancing on her good knee was more tiring than standing. The muscles in her thigh began to tremble. “It’s someone else.”

 

Phaedra’s anger faded slowly, until what remained was feral and bewildered. “I don’t know any other ghost who would be interested in talking with me.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Grace said. “Just know the offer is there if you want it.”

 

The Djinn flowed to her feet with the same impossible grace as Khalil had, and Grace fought to rise. She couldn’t leverage with her bad leg. Phaedra watched her struggle with an unreadable expression.

 

“Come on, Freaky Bitch,” Grace said irritably. “Give us a hand.”

 

The last thing she expected was help. If anything, she expected her snark to be the impetus that drove the Djinn away, and really, by that point, good riddance. Instead Phaedra held out her hand slowly.

 

Grace stared at the outstretched fingers. Just as slowly, she put her hand in Phaedra’s grasp. She was braced for an attack. Instead, Phaedra pulled Grace to her feet. She muttered, “Thanks.”

 

But Phaedra dematerialized even as she spoke.

 

Grace found herself alone in the cavern. She stood with her weight on her good leg, straining to hear past her own stressed, noisy breathing as she cast her awareness out. Heavy, cool silence pressed against her eardrums. She could not sense the Djinn anywhere on the land. Phaedra had really left.

 

Tension leaked out of her quivering muscles. She realized the only light she could see was from the circle cast by her flashlight. The pale, diffuse sunlight that had streamed down the tunnel was gone. She sighed heavily, collected the mask from where she had dropped it, tucked it under her arm and braced herself for the upward trek through the tunnel. Climbing the uneven floor was more challenging than climbing stairs, and her muscles were already cold and tired.

 

The only way she was going to make it happen was to just fucking do it. She limped over, and with one hand she clutched the flashlight, while she used the other to brace herself against the wall. She started to climb, using her strong leg to go up, and she leaned against the wall and balanced on her bad leg on the opposite step. Inelegant, but it worked.

 

Or at least it did until a wild maelstrom of Power roared down the tunnel.

 

The Power blasted into her, and she staggered. She felt her precarious balance go, clutched first at the wrapped mask and cried out as she lost hold of the flashlight. The light careened wildly as the flashlight bounced down the tunnel. Then all illumination cut out abruptly, and she fell back into the absolute darkness.

 

Oh, shit, this was going to be a bad one—

 

She flashed on ripping out all the painful repairs on her still-healing knee, more expensive doctor’s visits, maybe even more surgeries.

 

Khalil’s warm, fierce energy enveloped her even as strong arms formed around her and broke her fall gently. The rest of his body formed next. He said, “Easy. I’ve got you.”

 

Her heart was racing like a crazy thing. Her feet still rested on the uneven tunnel floor, but lightly, for he had taken all of her weight. She grabbed him and said unsteadily, “Goddamn. Watch where you’re going next time!”