Oracle (16 page)

    
By this
time, Manny had moved to Jesse’s side and was using his scimitars to keep him
safe from the pirates. Incapacitated as he was, Jesse could only lay there and
watch the battle unfold around him.

    
One of
the pirates charged toward Priscilla. She punched him in the chest so hard her
fist came out his back. She shoved him away, grimacing and shaking her hand as
he fell. The sight made Jesse wonder if he’d hit his head harder than he
thought.

    
“No
fair,” Priscilla exclaimed, watching Ethan dispatch three more pirates with his
pistol. “Hand to hand combat is so messy. Look,” she held up her gore covered
hand, “I have people bits under my fingernails. I want to play with the gun.”
She kicked out at a pirate advancing on her left side and her foot connected
soundly with his side. His rubs made a sound almost like breaking glass.

    
Ethan
fired on a pirate Jesse had been too shocked to realize was coming toward him
and then spun neatly to shoot another about to decapitate Kat from behind.
“Sorry love,” he shoved his pistol into the waistband of his pants and drew a
pair of long knives, “all out of bullets.”

    
She
stomped her foot, raising a little puff of sand. “You always get the best
toys.” She looked down at the man whose ribs she’d shattered. He was gasping,
little flecks of blood dotting his lips. “I suppose I’ll have to make do with
this.” She picked up his curved sword and without a moment’s hesitation, used
it to remove his head.

    
Things
got a little hazy for Jesse after that. Later, he would mostly remember the
sound of clashing steel and the hoarse cries of dying men. It seemed to go on
forever, though in truth the entire skirmish lasted no more than ten minutes
from the arrival of Priscilla to the death of the last pirate.

    
Nika
knelt at Jesse’s side and laid her hands over his leg.
“Lie still. If the earth spirit wills it, I’ll heal your leg.”

    
Jesse
raised himself up on his elbows. He didn’t much like the idea of leaving his
well being to the whims of the spirits, but he supposed he didn’t have much
choice. If the earth spirit wouldn’t allow
Nika
to
heal him then they may as well go ahead and shoot him because with the horses
run off he wasn’t going anywhere.

    
Ethan
cleaned the blades of his long knives on a kerchief. “Not to say I don’t
appreciate you showing up when you did Prissy, but what are you doing
here?”
        

    
“I came
looking for you of course.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Morpheus is
dead and you are supposed to come home.”

    
“I’d
rather not.” He slipped the knives back into place. “I find the high realm to be
so tedious. You of all people can understand.”

    
“It’s
true the lesser realm does have its pleasant distractions,” she said, “but the
desert? Really? Look at you, all filthy and covered in sand.”

    
Ethan
smiled. “I’m not the only one.”

    
“I know.”
She gazed mournfully at her dress. “I must look such a fright. And all this sun
is no good at all for my delicate skin.”

    
“You
should have come dressed for the desert and not the bedroom, my dear.”

    
She shot
him a dirty look. “If I had known you were in the desert I might not have come
at all. Now,” she ran her hands back through her hair, “aren’t you going to
introduce me, or has all this time among humans robbed you of your manners.”

    
“Sounds
like a good idea to me,” Kat said, holding her staff in both hands. “Exactly
who is this” she looked Priscilla up and down with a curl of her lips, “girl
and how do you know her, Ethan? And what’s all this talk of ‘humans’ and the
‘high realm’?”

    
Jesse
winced as his bone popped back into place. It didn’t hurt as much as he might
have expected it to, but the skin stitching over the wound itched like mad.

     
“Ah,
well, it would seem I have been discovered.” Ethan straightened his cuffs. “May
I present to you Priscilla, daughter of the late and largely unlamented
Morpheus, Lord Of Dreams, and the elder higher power currently referred to as
Fate.”

    
Kat
snorted. “She’s a higher power? Right. How would you be acquainted with a
higher power? If there were any such thing.”

    
“She’s my
sister,” Ethan said. “Well, half sister, at any rate. Via Morpheus. Prissy,
these wildings are Manny and
Nika
. These others are
my fellow mercenaries, Kat and Jesse.”

    
“You
expect us to believe you’re a higher power?” Kat asked Ethan. “Seriously?”

    
Priscilla
glared at her. “Not only is he a higher power, with the death of our father
he’s now an elder as well. So you best show some respect, you dirty human
sow.
”

    
“What did
you call me?” Kat’s face reddened as her grip on her staff tightened.

    
Priscilla
smirked. “If you’re hard of hearing, I could repeat myself.”

    
“Ladies,
please,” Ethan said. “Much as the two of you coming to blows would be briefly
entertaining, it would be rather regretful to have Kat dead at this point.”

  
  
“Who says I’d be the one to end up dead?”

    
Jesse
rose unsteadily to his feet. “I think we have enough dead bodies around
already. Can we please move this along before the smell gets any worse?”

    
“You want
to take her with us?” Kat pointed her staff at Priscilla. “We don’t even know
who she is. She could be a demon.”

    
“Demons
you believe in, but not higher powers?” Jesse asked.

    
“Do
you
believe she’s a higher power?”

    
Jesse
eyed Priscilla. She batted her lashes and smiled flirtatiously at him. Normally
such attention from a beautiful woman would have been more than welcome, but
after having seen what she could do it only served to give him the shivers.

    
“I
believe she can fight and we may need all the help we can get where we’re
going.”

    
“I can do
more than fight.” She winked at him, which earned her a black look from Kat.

    
“You mean
you don’t intend to whisk away home?” Ethan asked as he approached the
nightmare. The demon horse snorted, but seemed to take no offence as his hand
stroked the side of her neck.

    
“Depends
on why you’re out here in the desert,” she said.

    
Ethan
swung up onto the mare’s back. “We’re off to fetch a tablet from a temple.” He
offered her his hand.

    
Priscilla
wrinkled her nose. “Sounds terribly boring.”

    
“Oh,
trust me, my dear, it will be anything but.” His voice took on a tone Jesse had
certainly never heard there before. “Now you’re here, I’d really rather you
stay with me.”

    
“I’m not
certain I like this side of you at all.” She took his hand and accepted his
help up onto the nightmare’s back behind him. “You’re so serious.”

    
“This is
a serious situation, Prissy.”

    
She
wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Serious is so dull.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY FIVE

    
A rough
hand grasping Charles’ arm roused him from sleep. “What? What?” He thrashed his
feet, panic surging up in his chest. A dark figure barely outlined in the glow
of the lamp stood over the side of his bed.

    
“Get up.”
Victor’s face loomed into view as he leaned closer. “We’re under attack.”

    
“Under
attack?” Charles tried to wrap his sleep fuzzed mind around the words as he
threw back the covers and swung his legs off the bed. “What do you mean? Who’s
attacking us?”

    
Victor
thrust a pair of pants into his hands. “I don’t know, but they mean to kill us.
That’s enough for me.”

    
Edward
entered the room carrying one of Victor’s dueling pistols. His tousled hair and
fear widened eyes made him look half his years. “I’m ready.”

    
“I can
see you are.” Victor took the gun from the boy’s hand. “But you won’t be
needing that.”

    
“I have
to fight,” Edward protested.

    
“No. You
and Lord Charles are going to escape the castle.”

    
“What?”
“No!” Charles and Edward spoke simultaneously,

    
Victor
smiled with a father’s kind of indulgence. “You both heard me right. I want you
out of this place as quickly as is possible.”

    
“I can
help you.” Charles reached for his sword. “I’ve never faced a man in true
combat, but I’ve been well trained.”

    
“I
believe you can handle yourself,” Victor said. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be
trusting you with the most precious thing I have.” His face was filled with
emotion. “You are Edward’s best chance.”

    
Charles
nodded as he cinched his scabbard around his waist. Much as he hated the
thought of leaving Victor behind, the man was certainly more than capable of
fending for himself. And he understood how important Edward was to the Duke. As
important as his sister was to him. Maybe even more so.

    
“I’m not
a child.” Edward’s lower lip quivered. “I can fight. Let me stay with you.”

    
“Edward,
my dear boy.” Victor knelt in front of him and grasped his thin shoulders. “I would
have preferred to tell you this another way, but there may be no more time for
it. I want you to be my heir. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to
know you will be Duke of Monroe after I’m gone.”

    
The boy’s
mouth fell open. “But my father, he’ll --”

    
“Forget
Armand.” Victor laid his hand against Edward’s cheek. “You may be my brother’s
child by birth, but in my heart you are
my
son. Thus it is your duty to
care for my people if I no longer can. I need your word, the word of a man, that
you will do your duty. Do I have it?”

    
Edward
gulped. “Yes, sir.”

    
“Good
boy.” Victor kissed his forehead and stood, his eyes dark with unshed tears.
“Charles, I assume you know the way to the escape tunnel.”

    
“I was
shown the way as a boy,” Charles said. “I’ll see him to safety. I promise.”

    
Victor
nodded. “Then go. Quickly.”

    
Charles
took Edward’s hand and together they hurried out into the hall. It was dark and
silent, save for the faint echoing sound of voices from some other part of the
castle. Charles was grateful they needed to go in the opposite direction.

    
They went
toward one of the three entrances of the escape tunnel with as much haste as
they could muster without running. Charles didn’t want to risk drawing the
wrong kind of attention, better to be as silent and stealthy as possible. He
drew his sword, feeling better to have it in hand in case trouble found them.

    
Charles
worried over his aunt, but to seek her out would take them well out of their way
and might prove futile if she was already headed toward the escape tunnel
herself. Such thoughts of Jana soon fled his mind however, as the sound of
clashing steel and shouts reached his ears. Flickers of red light shone down
several halls they passed and faint tendrils of smoke moved through the air.
The castle was on fire.

    
Charles’s
palm grew sweaty against the handle of his sword. His heart beat out a heavy
rhythm against his chest. How he wished Simon were with him now. Not because of
the stunning revelation that he was actually an archangel, but because he was
Charles’ best friend and could always be counted on to have his back in a bad
situation.

    
They
rounded a corner and nearly collided with a mountain of a man whose skin was so
dark he was nearly invisible in the gloomy hall. Charles moved in front of
Edward, his sword at the ready.

    
The other
man’s hard gaze quickly slid from Charles to Edward, who was peeking around the
side of his arm. The man’s expression softened as his gaze returned to Charles.
“I will let you go for the boy’s sake,” he said, “but my brother is no more
than five minutes behind me and he will not be so gracious. I suggest you use
the time well.”

    
Charles
was shocked, and yet he felt no fear the man meant to wait until his back was
turned to strike him down. “I thank you, good sir. Go, Edward.” He pushed the
boy ahead of him.
            
Taking the
stranger’s advice to use their time well, Charles urged Edward into a run. This
particular hall would carry them past the hall down which
Daniella
and Richard had their chambers. This would cost them precious seconds, and yet
to pass them by seemed wrong. He had only seconds to decide.

    
Charles
muttered an oath under his breath as he caught Edward round the collar and
steered him down the side hall. They reached
Daniella’s
door first. Charles pushed it open without bothering to knock and headed
straight for the bedchamber. He found the room empty and the sheets pulled up
neatly on the bed.

    
“
Daniella
?” He called his cousin’s name as loudly as he
dared in case she was hiding somewhere. No reply was forthcoming. “Well, I
tried.” He turned for the door. “My conscience is clear on that.”

    
He and
Edward hurried done the hall, risking their lives for a man who would as
happily see Charles dead. He’d have killed Richard himself if he had to in
order to protect his sister, and yet now he had a chance to leave his cousin to
die he found it impossible to do so. He wasn’t sure if that made him the better
man or merely the bigger fool.

    
Again,
Charles charged through to the bedchamber without giving warning of his
arrival. This time, he found the bed occupied. “Richard.” He rapped the butt of
his sword on the doorframe. “Get up.”

    
Richard
rolled over and sat up. He squinted at Charles in the scant light, his gaze
inexorably drawn to the sword. Something like panic flickered through his eyes.
“What are you doing in my room?”

    
“The
castle is under attack. Edward, fetch the prince some pants.”

    
The boy
scrambled to do as he was told and Richard eyed them both warily. “How do I
know this isn’t some plot to lure me outside to my death?”