Divined

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Authors: Emily Wibberley

BOOK: Divined
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Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

DIVINED

The Last Oracle

Emily Wibberley

Divined (The Last Oracle, Book 3)

Copyright © 2016 by Emily Wibberley

www.emilywibberley.com

All Rights Reserved

Published by Wibbs Ink

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Edited by Emily Nemchick

Cover Art by Damonza

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

All rights reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

A scream caught in her throat as she woke. Clio sat up, and black pain rushed into her head, blinding her until her heart slowed and her panic faded.

“Who was killed this time?” Ashira’s voice sounded somewhere to Clio’s left.

Clio turned to face her Vessel. Ashira sat against the far wall, sharpening a blade. Clio knew her dream was a lie. It always was. And yet, still, she studied Ashira for any sign of injury, unable to forget what she’d just Seen.

“It was me, wasn’t it?” Ashira’s eyes were dark and cautious in her small face. She was so delicate, her skin so thin, her heart so fragile. For a moment, all Clio saw was a hole in Ashira’s chest. Vazuil had forced Clio to stare at it, to watch as too much blood poured out of Ashira’s too-small frame. It was the same each time Clio closed her eyes or let her defenses down for a single instant. He was always there in the back of her head, waiting.

Clio shivered. “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.”

“How did I die this time? Let me guess. Was it Mannix? Or maybe Daizon, risen from the dead?” Ashira smiled.

She always did this, always tried to pretend Clio’s Visions were nothing more than a joke. Clio hated it. She couldn’t laugh at the things she Saw, even if they weren’t true, even if they were nothing more than Vazuil’s pathetic attempts to scare Clio into coming back to the Deities as their Oracle. Because, the truth was, they did scare her. The Deities, the Visions, the prospect of a future she could no longer foresee. It all scared her.

Clio pulled herself up and leaned against the wall at the head of her mat. “I told you not to let me sleep.”

Ixie entered the room, silent and swift as always. “You have to sleep, Clio. You don’t have a choice in that.”

“I told you, he’s worse at night.” Clio didn’t know why, but the Visions were always more vivid at night. If she slept when the sun was high in the sky, he still came to her, but the Visions were more manageable. Perhaps because she didn’t sleep as deeply, leaving her body ready to repel him. Of course, it also left her body weaker and more tired, but those things didn’t matter to Clio so much anymore.

Ixie unclasped her heavy traveling cloak and tossed it onto her mat with a frustrated sigh. “You were half-dead. You needed the sleep. Blame me, not Ashira. I told her not to wake you.” She unpinned her honey-gold hair, letting it spill over her pale shoulders.

“Where were you?” Clio asked, suddenly noticing the rosy coloring in Ixie’s cheeks and the perfect curls in her hair.

“I went into Sheehan to speak with a certain smitten palace guard,” Ixie answered over her shoulder.

“Ixie…” Clio’s voice was low in warning.

“What?” Ixie turned to Clio, crossing her arms in challenge. “You can’t expect me to rot out here in the middle of nowhere doing nothing. Just because you chose to leave the palace and all of civilized society behind in favor of this”—she gestured to the dark and empty room—“does not mean I’m going to abandon all of my friends in town.”

Clio narrowed her eyes. “You’re saying you went into Sheehan
only
to speak with old friends?”

“That’s what I said. Although while I was there I did happen upon some news of note,” she said innocently. “Derik has finished moving the last of the Untouched into the southern tip of the city. They finished rebuilding only a couple days ago, and now the Untouched are learning to sow crops. Apparently there are rumors of famine in Morek. The north wall still needs work, but it’s nearly done as well. Also—”

Clio slammed her hand against the packed dirt below, cutting Ixie off. “How many times do I have to tell you not to meddle?”

“Listening is hardly meddling,” Ixie answered nonchalantly, but her eyes hardened in defiance.

“Well, I don’t want to hear it!” Clio yelled too loudly, then took a breath, not liking the clarity in her head, the way her thoughts followed one after the other. It meant she had nothing to keep Vazuil out. She could feel him in the corners of her mind. If she lost control of her temper, he would be there, forcing his voice into her head. He liked it when she got angry. He told her so whenever he had the chance. Anger made her sharp and focused, easy to enter.

Easy to torture.

Clio pressed her hands into the wall as she moved to stand.

You’ll drive everyone away, Clio
, Vazuil whispered in her mind.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, but there was no escaping him.

You’ll drive them away, and they’ll all die. Just like your family. But I can help you. Come back to us, Clio. Come back to me. We can make it right.

She stumbled as she walked to the small chest on the far side of the room. It was one of the few furnishings they had, and somehow its lonely presence made the room look even barer, more austere.

Her hands were shaking. She fumbled with the chest’s clasp, and pain flared behind her eyes, driving her to her knees. But her finger caught the latch, and she threw the lid back with all the strength she had left. Riece stood before her in the Vision, but Clio wouldn’t look at him. Blindly, she dug around inside the chest, shoving aside the soft feathers of her warrior’s cloak until her hand wrapped around the small decanter.

She heard Riece screaming as she pulled out the stopper and brought the draught to her lips.

Welcome bitterness flooded her mouth, burning its way down her throat. Two swallows and the screaming went away, her vision cleared, and her room returned around her. She turned to find Ixie frowning at her.

“Do you need help?” Ashira asked, rising as she set aside her blades.

Even though her legs felt weak and unused, Clio waved the girl off and made it to her mat as the ache set in. It’s what the draught did. To keep Vazuil out, Clio kept her mind heavy and fragmented with pain. Sure enough, she felt his presence recede and let out a sigh of relief.

“Tell me, Ixie,” Clio croaked, her head pounding. “Do you think I enjoy this? Living here on the outskirts of Sheehan in a house more ruin than home? Do you think I like avoiding Derik, not seeing Riece? Watching as they fought to do great things for their people, unable to help? Do I enjoy being this tired, this weak?”
This afraid
, she thought, unable to admit her fear, not to Ixie who was nothing but strength.

Ixie straightened. “Well, you don’t seem to be doing anything about it.”

“I made a choice. A choice not to serve the Deities, a choice to turn my back on my vows as the Oracle. That choice has consequences. Anything I see, the Deities see. Anything I hear, they hear. I can’t be involved in what Derik is doing for Sheehan, not while Vazuil is in my head. I don’t tell you not to meddle because I am deaf to your concerns for the city. I tell you not to meddle precisely because I do care, which means I cannot be a part of it. It’s a consequence of my choice, and I stand by it.”

“But—” Ixie began.

Clio held up her hand, silencing her. “Is there any other way? Tell me. Show me how. What would you have me do, Ixie? How can I rid myself of Vazuil? How can I make sure he doesn’t use me against the people I love?”

Ixie’s stare was unflinching. “I don’t know,” she conceded.

“You don’t have to stay here. I made that perfectly clear when I chose this.”

“We won’t leave you, Clio,” Ashira said.

Clio smiled weakly at the girl, then turned to Ixie, waiting.

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” she answered before striding out of the room.

Clio sagged against the wall, exhausted and hurting.

“Ignore her.” Ashira came to Clio’s side. “Ixie has always been willful. It goes against her nature to stay here and watch you, unable to do anything to help. She hates to see you suffering.”

“I know.” Clio exhaled. “Vazuil will give up eventually. Then I can stop with the draught. Or maybe we’ll find another way. Nox said he was looking into something better, something that wouldn’t leave me so weak.”

Ixie reappeared in the archway, her eyes alight in a way Clio knew meant the girl had a secret. “Oh, before I retire—when was Riece supposed to return again?”

“He told us not to expect him for twenty days still.” Clio spoke slowly. Ixie had been there when Riece left for a journey to the Corner. She knew as well as Clio when Riece planned to return.

“Curious,” Ixie said with a quick grin, before ducking back behind the archway.

Ashira was watching Clio closely. “She’s good,” Ashira muttered with a shake of her head.

“Surely you don’t think…” Clio started, meeting Ashira’s gaze before sighing. “Ixie,” Clio called, bringing the girl, grinning, back into the archway. “Did you hear something about the commander?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in anything I may have heard tonight.” Ixie raised a single eyebrow.

“Don’t toy with me.”

“You know, if you’re so worried about him then you should have gone with him. I know he asked you.” Ixie folded her arms across her chest, enjoying this too much for Clio’s taste.

“Do you want to tell me what you heard or not, Ixie?” Clio was in no mood for this. Her head was pounding, and her stomach was roiling. Still, she couldn’t feign disinterest when it came to news of Riece. She had wanted to go with him to the Corner. She had planned on it even. But then Nox brought her the draught to keep the Deities out, and every day Clio felt herself getting weaker. She was in no condition to traverse the jungle, and Riece knew it as well as she. They had fought about it—they fought about much in the days after Clio learned the truth about the Deities—but in the end, not even Riece could find a way to oppose her. She was too weak, and he left but not before telling her that when he returned they would revisit each and every one of their quarrels.

“Zarae arrived in Sheehan this morning.” Ixie came back into the room and leaned against the wall behind Ashira.

“I fail to see how the princess has anything to do with Riece,” Clio said flatly.

“She’s betrothed to him, so she has a great deal to do with him actually.”

“Betrothed in title only,” Clio muttered.

“And if you stay here forever, what’s to stop Zarae from living up to her title?”

“A good effort, but I will not be moved to go into Sheehan merely out of unfounded jealousy. I have no doubts as to Riece’s intentions.”

“She wants to see you,” Ixie replied, changing tactics.

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