The Wicked



Sebastian had been tempted to ask Phaedra for a ride to Florida, but after her latest stunt, he refused to even consider it. Instead, he chartered a plane and they spent the flight mostly in silence. He bought a pile of newspapers and magazines, and they passed the time looking through everything. Three months had passed on Earth.

At one point, Olivia said, “This is the strangest, worst case of jet lag I’ve ever experienced, and that’s not even taking into account traveling from coast to coast.”

“It can take a couple of weeks to re-acclimate,” he said, his voice toneless. The ground glass was back in his chest, and even that much conversation was an effort. He thought she understood, because she took one of his hands between hers and didn’t say anything more.

Once they landed in Miami, they took a car service to Grace and Khalil’s house.

Olivia had called ahead, so they knew that Grace and Khalil waited at home for their arrival. Sebastian’s heart began to pound as the car pulled up to the front of an attractive ranch house. They climbed out. He reached for Olivia’s hand as they walked up the path, and she squeezed his fingers.

When he rang the doorbell, a pretty, titian-haired young woman answered the door. She rushed forward and threw her arms around Olivia, and the two women murmured to each other as they hugged.

A massive male Djinn walked up beside them. Khalil had white, regal features, long raven hair held back with a strip of leather and those typical, piercing, diamond-like eyes. Phaedra looked a lot like her father.

“Come in,” Grace said. She kept an arm around Olivia’s waist as she said, “I asked Atefeh and Ebrahim to babysit Max and Chloe so we could have time to ourselves without the children. I have been so worried about you. Are you really better?”

“Almost a hundred percent,” said Olivia with a small smile.

The ground glass in Sebastian’s chest shifted, cutting at him. His voice was harsh as he said, “You know why we’re here. I need to petition you.”

Khalil frowned, but Grace turned to Sebastian immediately. Even though her face was young, her hazel gaze was filled with a kind of compassion that seemed ageless. “Please, come sit and talk with me,” she said.

Somehow there was an indefinable yet essential shift in Power, and it was the Oracle that spoke to him.

Sebastian followed her to a gleaming oak dinner table with six matching chairs, set in front of ceiling high windows that looked over the ocean. The Oracle sat at one end of the table, and gestured for Sebastian to sit at her right. He complied, while Olivia and Khalil remained several steps away, present but not participating.

The Oracle said, “Tell me your story.”

It poured out of him in a convulsive rush, while she listened in silence. Finally he stopped speaking and watched her.

The Oracle frowned, her gaze unfocused, and rubbed the polished surface of the table with her fingertips. Then her lips moved silently. She looked for all the world as if she were talking to herself.

Sebastian clenched his hands into fists.

He thought, This is where she tells me there is no hope. This is the final answer to my question.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to wear his sunglasses for one more moment. He tore them off and flung them across the room. They shattered to pieces against the opposite wall.

The peripheral vision on his right side was almost completely gone, but he still sensed the Djinn shifting in unfriendly reaction.

Then the Oracle’s expression underwent a drastic change.

“Khalil,” she bit out. “Please retrieve that shrunken head from Jamaica for me, will you?”

“As you wish,” said the Djinn. His physical form dissipated, and he blew away.

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