A slow smile spread over the Oracle’s face, revealing double rows of tiny, pointed teeth. “It’d be easier for you if that were true, wouldn’t it? But the only thing separating you from me is a soul, Solmir, and yours seems worse for wear lately. Well, a soul and belief. Believing yourself to be a god is the most important aspect of divinity, and you lost your belief in yourself long ago. In every way.”
Solmir’s expression didn’t change, but his hands clenched by his sides, tight enough to blanch the skin around his rings.
“All that magic, swelling you like a tick on a vein,” the Oracle murmured. “Truly, it’s astonishing you’ve managed to hold on to your soul at all.” With a burst of unnatural speed, the Oracle bent its head to the side at an angle that should’ve snapped its neck, exaggerated curiosity. “Does she know why you take the magic from her? Why you keep it, so she stays empty?”
“Yes,” Solmir said, but there was a pause, and his eyes darted to Neve as if he wanted to gauge her reaction.
Neve was having a hard time coming up with any reaction other than cold dread.
The Oracle’s fingers twitched through the air, arms held out to its sides by the chains. “You’re still so angry,” it said to Solmir, Neve apparently forgotten. “I can taste it, coming off you in waves. Anger and guilt, though the guilt is more complicated. You just can’t stop pulling women into your underworld, can you? Or trying to, at least. This one seems to have worked out better than the other.”
That, finally, was enough to get a reaction; Solmir lurched forward like he might lunge at the god, mouth bent into a snarl. Neve’s hand shackled around his arm, holding him back, though she had to grind her heels into the stone ground to do it.
The Oracle laughed, a high, almost screeching sound. “Or has it?” the god asked, fingers still twitching. “The last one you wanted to open the Shadowlands for only because you loved her and wanted to escape, but this one… this one has a purpose. This one has strings attached, strings from stars, and you want to play them like a harp.” A delicate shrug. “Better strings than roots.”
Roots. Gaya. Neve’s eyes cut to Solmir, her fingers tightening around his arm.
The muscles beneath her hand went the consistency of stone, but Solmir didn’t lunge at the god again. “Don’t talk about her,” he said, voice low and poisonous. “You aren’t allowed to talk about her.”
“Fine with me,” the Oracle replied. “Especially when you’ve brought someone much more interesting.” Its head bent again, this time to the other side, wire-covered eyes fixed on Neve. “Hello, Shadow Queen. You want something from me.”
Neve’s eyes shifted from the horrible-beautiful god to Solmir, fear making her spine straight and her muscles weak. It knew. Somehow, the Oracle knew they were here to kill it, and it would—
“Don’t look so shocked. No one comes here for any reason other than wanting something. Especially not Solmir, who hates me so.” Another of those wide smiles, showing rows of teeth. “But you can’t get something for nothing. I always get my due.”
The gnawed bones around their feet gave the words unsettling weight. Neve tightened her hand around Solmir’s arm, though she didn’t think he would try to go for the god again. At least, not until he was ready to kill it.
And when was that supposed to happen?
What you want and what he wants are not the same thing, Shadow Queen.
The Oracle’s voice was smoother than the Serpent’s had been, a caress around her mind rather than a scrabble against it. Neve swallowed and clenched her jaw, not allowing the Oracle in, not allowing it to read her thoughts.
The laugh that echoed in her skull was just as screeching and unpleasant as the one that had echoed through the cave. Your desires twine and tangle, but come apart at the most important seams. A thoughtful pause. He can count the number of people he has ever cared about on one hand. Do you think you’re among their number, Shadow Queen?
Her teeth ground together, but Neve’s hand dropped from Solmir’s arm. He glanced at her, brows drawn low.
The Oracle pouted, sticking out a lush lower lip. “The Shadow Queen doesn’t want to talk to me,” it said, straightening. A toss of its head, resettling the rotting rose crown. “But someone will have to. That’s the price for what you want.”
“What do you think we want?” Solmir asked. His hand kept flexing back toward Neve, toward the piece of god-bone in her pocket.
“To open the Heart Tree,” the Oracle answered. “To do so, you need the power of a god.” It preened at that, fingers twitching, shaking out its long white hair. “I knew you’d have to free me eventually, Solmir. This punishment couldn’t be forever.”
Punishment? Confusion twisted Neve’s mouth.
The Oracle chuckled. Neve hadn’t allowed it to read her thoughts, but it seemed to see the question in her expression. “I didn’t tell Solmir that trying to open the Heart Tree with his former lover would kill her.” A graceful shrug. “He didn’t take it well.”
Solmir’s shoulders were tense ridges beneath his thorn-ripped shirt, but he didn’t rise to the Oracle’s bait. He looked to Neve, something fierce and half hopeful in his eyes.
It hit her then. The Oracle didn’t know they were here to kill it.
The pieces came together quickly—the god thought they were here to break its chains, to make it guide them to the Heart Tree. The Oracle knew the Heart Tree could be opened only by the power of a god, and thought they meant to make it their prisoner, not their victim.
Which meant it would expect Solmir to get close enough to loosen its restraints. It wouldn’t know the closeness was for killing until it was too late.
But only if they played this next part very, very carefully.
Moving so slowly her muscles shuddered, Neve slipped the bone from her pocket. She pressed her hand to Solmir’s, the cool of his skin welcome against her fevered fear.
“But before you free me,” the Oracle said, “I want a truth.”
Her fingers went numb; Neve almost dropped the bone. She and Solmir both tried to catch it while also keeping as still as possible—her fingers closed around it just before it fell from their awkwardly clasped hands.
Neve pulled her arm tight to her side, hiding the bone in the tatters of her skirt. “A truth?” she asked, more to distract than to clarify.
“Oh look, she speaks.” The Oracle’s tone sounded exactly like the flippant cattiness of a seasoned court gossip. “Yes, Shadow Queen, I want a truth. There might be no food or drink here, but we all feed on something, unless we want to weaken enough to get reeled into the Sanctum.”
Solmir stepped up on the dais, fists clenched at his sides. “Fine. Take one; I have truths enough to glut yourself on.”
“But none of them are surprising, once-King, and when one has been in famine, they desire a feast to break it.”
That only left one solution. Neve stepped forward. “Take one from me, then.”
Another slow smile, all those pointed teeth. “Yes,” the Oracle whispered. “You smell of secrets buried deep, of things left to age like wine. Your truths are sure to be delicious.”