Oracles were a subset of wizards, who—like slayers—didn’t have control over elemental magic. Instead, they could—in limited and specific ways—tell the future.
It was a rare power—and one that had inspired a lot of bloodshed within the supernatural community over the centuries. As a result, oracles were guarded and protected but if you had the right connections—and enough money—you could purchase a prediction from one. There was no guarantee it’d be helpful or even understandable, but it was an option available to the upper echelon of supernaturals.
“There’s no way,” April said, dismissing the idea. “Even if they’re suddenly spending more money, the funds needed to purchase a prediction are astronomical. Not to mention, there’s no way they’d have the proper connections.”
I nodded my agreement.
The convenient timing is still odd. There must be something to it.
Aloud, I said, “I’m going to walk the perimeter.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” April said.
I paused awkwardly in the middle of turning around. April was older than I was, so there was no reason for her to call me ma’am unless she meant it out of respect. It seemed Sunshine was right and that my team held me with respect, but how was I supposed to react to that when I was just their teammate? Since I didn’t know what to say, I concluded it was better to let it go and slipped off.
I edged around the garden’s perimeter finding plenty of charred remains of plants, but I didn’t find anything unexpected. I was going to smell so strongly of smoke that I’d need to shower before I went home—a vampire’s sense of smell was nothing compared to a shifters, but I wasn’t going to risk Connor asking why I smelled like I’d been cleaning chimneys.
I paced up and down the rectangular plot that had been burned, and the dampness from the rain made a layer of moisture on my boots that the ash clung to. Besides the garden, a few patches of lawn had burnt up—the fire had definitely spread out from the garden.
But it didn’t jump to the building… was it because the library is made of brick? Or did House Tellier control the fire to prevent it spreading?
If the fire was made of their flames, they could have magically controlled it. But then someone would have been able to sense the use of wizard magic. Not me, but as a fae Grove would be sensitive to magic and Brody should have smelled it.
Except we were focused on the fire, and when House Tellier showed up they used their magic fast, so the area brimmed with wizard magic shortly after our arrival.
When I got to the wall of the library, I could see a line that demarked where the fire had stopped burning.
Staring at the obvious border, I shook my head. There’s no way that’s natural.
I turned and peered out over the burnt gardens and the parking lot that extended beyond it.
The garden—which was a pretty small plot given it had to be wedged into a pre-existing space instead of being designed when the library was constructed years ago—was somewhat sheltered by the library itself, so there was only one direction anyone could have witnessed the fire from and the blaze had started fairly late at night.
This could all be a coincidence, but the chances seem low. I just don’t get why House Tellier would choose to burn down a garden.
Binx joined me, rubbing her nose. “I’m not smelling much—the stink of smoke and wizard magic is about all I can get.” She squinted for a moment, then sneezed into her elbow.
I stared at the ground—it was easier to talk when I wasn’t looking my teammates in the face. “All wizard magic smells the same to you, correct?”
“Yeah. I can’t smell a difference between April’s magic and the magic House Tellier used to put the fire out.” She paused, then added, “Except the scent of House Tellier’s magic is almost gone. Brody and I both smelled it last night.”
Mentally reviewing the facts we’d put together for the case notes, I nodded. “And you only smelled wizard magic? No fae magic?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t get here until House Tellier was already using their magic.” Binx turned so she could watch April as the wizard picked her way around burned shrubbery making her way towards us with her magical flames bobbing around her.
“Brody would have smelled wizard magic if it had been used in the fire when we arrived,” I muttered to myself.
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Binx said. “The humans refused to let us within the perimeter last night, and smoke is a potent scent. He might not have been able to smell it if he didn’t think to look for it.”
“But what about Grove?” I asked. “As a fae, he should have sensed it if House Tellier was controlling the fire.”
April clenched her fingers in a fist, putting her blue flames out, and her black wizard tattoo faded. “He would have had a very narrow window of time to think to check into it given that House Tellier arrived at the scene on your heels and immediately busted out their magic.” She checked to make sure her light brown hair hadn’t slipped from the neat bun she’d pulled it into for the night and glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Do you think House Tellier is responsible for this?”
“There’s no proof,” I said. “Yet.”
“Okay, then what’s next?” Binx started to put her hands in the pockets of her pants, but the sky dropped a few leftover raindrops on her head, so she hunched her shoulders up in displeasure first.
I cocked my head, confused.
“You said yet,” Binx said. “That means you still think there’s a chance we could get some.”
I stared at Binx, simultaneously impressed that Binx had picked up on that detail and touched that she knew me so well that she was able to make such an accurate prediction.
She cares enough to pick up on my habits—that means a lot. I’ve got to figure out how to get everyone to stop with the ma’am thing, then we could be friends!
“Blood?” April asked.
“Yes.” I shook my head, clearing my mind and focusing. “I’m going to radio Sarge and ask for clearance to visit an additional location.”
“Oh?” Binx’s eyes gleamed in the low light. “What location?”
I rolled my shoulders back. “I’d like to visit House Tellier.”
Twenty minutes later I stood on the sidewalk of a human neighborhood, studying the mismatched building that was House Tellier. The magical abode could best be described as “farmhouse meets American colonial architecture,” and it stood out with its orange and yellow trim—House Tellier colors.
It had a fence—a rustic, wooden thing that only was about hip high—and a gravel driveway, with stone pavers that branched off from the public sidewalk and led up to the House’s front doors.
Is the House going to be okay with us approaching?
I hadn’t dealt much with wizard Houses, but I knew the basics: they were sentient and the wizards living within were all sworn to it and in return received magical protection granted by the House.