I couldn’t see anything. That witch—Thalissa, she’d called herself—had hexed the only vulnerable part of my dragon form: the eyes. Now, without the aid of another magical person, I feared I would be too useless to even cross over for Nell, much less find her and rescue her without getting us both killed. I needed to think logically… I couldn’t let my role in this fill me with such grief that I began making haphazard decisions.
Let’s think, I instructed myself dizzily. Let’s think. You’re the only hope Penelope has, and you might be the only hope of the entirety of The Hearthlands… so you have to think. Number one—don’t get killed. Do not let yourself die until Nell has been safely returned to her family. If you do not rescue her, it’s unlikely she’ll ever return home again… and she must live, with or without me, a long and happy life. She must.
I would need to transform and fly from the portal. Resting so near to it was dangerous; the exchange with the blue dragon had proven so. What if he returned, and me still in this condition?
But how could I find my way back to the beach while blind?
Transforming into my dragon self, I took to the sky and moved in the direction of the clanking buoys between the rock island and the sandy shore. After that, it wouldn’t be far until I reached the beach, and even if I was off-track, it wouldn’t be by much. It was a dark, cold holiday night, and I’d be on a private beach which had seemed deserted when last I’d been there. Perhaps I would be unobserved until I could find my way back into the cave by touch, smell, and sound, then set myself a comforting fire in the pit, and then, finally, come up with some kind of a plan. How many seconds had it been? Had it already been minutes that she’d been gone?
“What are they doing to them?” I demanded of the sky gods. No answer came down to me.
Think.
The foremost issue was my blindness. In order to cure that, I would need to find a magical person willing to help me… But how? Where?
The clanking of the buoys alerted me that I was near to the shore now.
The ice dragon had abducted Nell intentionally, I was sure, and for what cause? Was it related to the abduction she had suffered at the talons of the harpies? “Your battle is already lost,” the harpy had said. Had she known of The Hearthlands’ condition? When had the ice kingdom risen? How had they known that I was here? Why had the ice dragon taken Penelope when he could have just as easily killed me?
I lowered until my belly skimmed the cold water, then crashed into the damp sand of the shore, rolling and caking my armor with dirt. I transformed rapidly back into a man. Being a nude man on Earth would still be preferable by a hundred times to being a large, blind dragon. I crept across the beach, bearing south until the sand became sharp with pebbles and I knew that the outcroppings were near. The waves fumed and roared against the rocks.
I climbed over the formations and felt my way into the cave itself, where I could think in peace without fear of observation. It was what had drawn me to this cave in the first place, when I had arrived after flying all the way from the Pacific Islands.
I had heard a voice on the winds, calling me, coaxing me onward, and it had risen in volume and clarity as I’d approached this beach. It was the cave itself where the voice seemed to be the clearest and the loudest. I’d gone inside and rested after a flight across an entire ocean and this broad countryside to the next ocean, with nothing but a thick leather satchel strung around my neck, filled with my most prized possessions: the heirloom mirror, and a few pieces of clothing. I’d prepared myself a fire, set my mirror and clothing to the side, and coiled in the large, cathedral-style cavern, where I had entered a deep meditation in search for the source of the voice. I knew it would lead me further onward.
What had awoken me had been Nell’s screams. By the time she’d drawn me from my trance state, she’d already fallen unconscious, and I’d had to pull her cold, limp body from the water.
As soon as I’d laid eyes on her, I’d felt a deep, hot swell move through me and almost burst, as if I was seeing a beloved friend or family member who had been separated from me for our entire lives. Gazing down at her perfect face, I’d wondered if it might have been her voice which had been calling me on the winds, calling me here, and knew that I had no choice but to save her.
I’d stayed in the cave for only the next day or two when yet another strange Earth woman had entered.
Her name was Thalissa, she’d said. She was a pagan witch, and she worshipped dragons. She had sensed me in the ether and come to find me and offer me her home. She would give me anything I wanted. She was a loyal servant to my people.
And I had trusted her, because I was simple-hearted. She’d taken me into her home, and I hadn’t questioned her charity; to me, charity seemed natural, not suspicious. Even as I’d gazed around at the horrific artwork which littered her domicile, I did not question her motives.
In spite of this turn in events—the kindly witch who had purported to worship me, the offering of a dwelling in the center of the village—I still couldn’t become distracted from Nell. I’d become increasingly certain that she had been the voice calling me onward, my destined soulmate. I hadn’t meditated in days, not since I’d met her. But now the elements called to me, beckoned me by my ear…
What could I do? Blind? With the only witch I knew being a traitor, and the very one to have blinded me? Nothing… Nothing but lay myself out before the universe and request aid with all the sincerity of my soul.
I crawled up onto the stone shelf and in the direction I knew the pit and cathedral ceilings to be. I blew a lick of flame across the loose kindling therein and heard, smelled, and felt the fire, even if I couldn’t see it. It comforted me to simply know that it was there.
And so, with my heart pounding in my chest, with the world weighing on my shoulders, I crossed my legs, closed my eyes, and began to hum in a low, hoarse rhythm, calling whatever spirits might answer back to me.
The response was immediate, as though an entity was lurking in the ether just above me.
I cannot see what others may, the familiar, raspy voice cooed inside my mind. It was the same voice I had heard speaking on the wind from across the world, and now it boomed in my skull as if it—she?—was right here. Her voice was soft and light as a child’s, low and husky. Yet I see what others never shall. What you seek, dragon prince, was already found some time ago.
“You are what I seek,” I answered the entity aloud. “I appeal to you, spirit. I am in need, desperate need, of a witch.”
Found you not other kin? the voice rasped to me. The black-haired, red-mouthed slave? Did she not satisfy your quest?
“That woman was a traitor, and is not my friend. She who offered me refuge was the same who took my eyes.”
Will your heart open for the words, dragon prince? You do not know the way. I thought to help you, but found myself abandoned. Alone always, much like you. We could be friends.
“Have I met you yet, spirit?”
This cave is mine. I am at its heart.
“Can I come to find you?” I asked, throwing my voice loudly into the cavern.
The path is clear. No one ever comes. Good luck, dragon prince. You are distracted. Never a good listener. Never to me.
I stood, scouring the cavern with my hands alone for its exit into deeper rooms. The being with whom I spoke must have been close… but there was no way I’d be able to travel far in my condition. Not without killing myself.
I groped through a low corridor, banging my head only twice, and then sloshed into bitter, ice-cold water. A heady fragrance filled the air as something within the room hissed. Next, I heard a series of splashes, as if something was rushing toward me across the surface of the water, and I recoiled at the sensation of clammy fingers moving along my bare skin, testing every part of my body.
She did blind you, the sickly voice confirmed. I relaxed only slightly. A kiss, then. A kiss for the prince. One should never be so lucky. Did you know that my mother could have killed you
with a kiss?
A cold, wet sensation passed over one eyelid and then the other before I was able to open my eyes and blink. Blurry colors shifted into focus around me, and I realized that this section of the cavern was lit by bioluminescent algae and other life forms. Even its water was a vibrant, fluctuating teal.
And in the delicate greenish light I could finally see the face of the being who had been calling me this great distance to her side.
She would have been pretty, if she’d had any eyes at all. Instead of eyes, smooth, fleshy pits existed above her cheeks. She had a small, shriveled mouth and her skin was so pale, it shone in this light as almost translucent. Her body was papered in black marks—unreadable symbols—which migrated along her skin of their own volition, like shadows at play. The woman was tiny and nude, though her body had to be the least sensual humanoid I’d witnessed yet. The buds of her breasts had no nipples, and where reproductive organs should have been, there was nothing but more puckered flesh. It made me wonder if she was deformed or asexually reproductive. But she’d said her mother could have killed me with a kiss…
Now you see, dragon prince, the creature hissed. But will you believe my prophecies?
“What… are… you?” I breathed. She was clearly not a spirit. She was very much flesh and bone, even if her psychic abilities were beyond any I had yet seen.
I am an oracle, the response came.
“I can bring you tribute, fair Oracle,” I told her, collapsing immediately to my knees. I could think of no better creature to encounter in this moment than one who knew the future. “I will give you anything if you can answer a single question for me.”
Ahhh. The oracle inhaled deeply of the aromatic fumes surrounding us. Like the water, they too glowed with an unearthly light whenever they encountered motion. I need nothing but an ear for an eye, dragon prince.
“You have my ears,” I promised her. “Can you see how I may rescue Penelope, my human mate, from the ice dragons of The Hearthlands?”
You may not, the oracle answered. She is not meant to be, fool prince. Abandon your quest. Seek love elsewhere.
Chapter 35: Theon
I grabbed the oracle without even thinking. “What?” I demanded. It wasn’t possible; there was always a way, an answer. The gods could not do this to me. I had been their faithful and humble servant for all of my life. They could not snatch away the woman I’d fallen for and never return her. “How can it be? Is she already dead? What do you mean?” I shook her. “Answer me now!”
But the oracle lashed back. She crawled forward until she had walked up my chest and had pressed her face into mine, and then she replied, the voice in my head booming until it hurt, You did not ever want my words, did you, fool prince? I brought and lost you in one night. You were gone. You did not care. There was no knowing of the knowledge. You went, and took your mate without counsel, and are now here, begging again, refusing again, knowing nothing again. Fool prince, will you beg again and not listen again?
“I understand what you’re saying.” She was a temperamental thing. I took a deep breath, illustrating its calming effect. In response, she imitated the gesture, sucking greenish fumes deep into her lungs. “What is your name, Oracle? Is that what I should call you?”
“My name is Pythia,” the oracle replied. “My twin and I were not fully abandoned in our infancy. We were named. I do not remember it with my baby brain; I remember it with the empty eyes which are all eyes.”
“All right.” I nodded like I understood her, and placed her onto her feet, back in the neon puddle. “Pythia. It was your voice I heard, calling me across the ocean and across this country. It was you whom I had come to see. And when I met Nell… I thought it was her. I thought I was meant to be with her. The voice… you had said that my mate was in this place.”
Listen to the voice again, fool prince, Pythia instructed, slithering into the shallow pool until only the top of her head was visible. She seemed to be watching me, even though she had no eyes. I tell you now that you were wrong, always, wrong in this choice. Penelope O’Hara, the drowning girl, she who loves you so, is not your mate. Destiny will never see this through. Do not force the hand that feeds. You must obey the laws I see: the future.
My breath had steadily come faster and faster, until I was dizzy with hyperventilation and hardly aware of it. “Just tell me if she’s dead or not,” I commanded, my voice losing its patience. “That’s all I need to know right now.”
At this, Pythia sank beneath the waters and disappeared, leaving me staring after her helplessly.
I couldn’t bear to listen to her supposed prophecy again. I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, accept that I had been wrong, and that Nell was never meant to be mine. This oracle clearly didn’t function properly. She hadn’t been there—she couldn’t have known how it felt to press my lips to Nell’s, the way the outside world disappeared while the inside world fell into place at the same time. She couldn’t have known that because it wasn’t any truth you could see with the eye.
A puddle of light stirred on the surface of the shallow pool, and then Pythia reemerged, dripping with bright droplets.
The human you seek lives still, she said. Surrounded, she lives, surrounded by other kin. Oh, mmm, mmm, mmm. The oracle traced her tiny mouth. She cries for you. Tears like sugar berries. The oracle cackled.
A pang lanced through my heart. “She’s crying?”
Mmm. Such love. Such hope. So human, this one. She cries because she believes in you… even though her soul urges her to accept imminent death. The comment was punctuated with a giggle, and I snapped, tramping forward into the luminescent waters.
The oracle yelped and attempted to scurry from me, but I clutched her and pinned her thrashing in the air.
“You will help me save her,” I told her. “You don’t understand. I don’t care anymore—I don’t care about the gods, I don’t care about fate, I don’t care what the universe thinks that I should do. I will save her. And you must help me.”
If you must, then you shall, Pythia answered, oddly cool. You will require aid; but, without my blessing, I will require instead something of you. An agreement. Do you agree to these terms, fool prince?
I hated those terms, but I didn’t see myself as having any other choice. Without her, I was stranded naked in Maine.
“Yes,” I answered firmly. “I agree to those terms, and promise to repay you for your kindness in considering my journey.”
The strange oracle descended into the depths of the cave pool, and my eyes bulged. What had seemed like a shallow series of puddles truly had depths which I could not even see. For almost a full minute, Pythia was gone, and then emerged from another puddle altogether, scampering through the shallow pools toward me.
She held pinned beneath one arm a transparent glass bottle, and inside of it was a large brass key and a tiny scroll of yellowed, brittle paper.
Pythia settled onto a stone and uncorked the bottle for me, shaking its contents into her other palm. First, she extended the key for my examination.
A thoughtful key, she informed me. You may unlock any door the key deems fit. This key was forged by the hands of fate, as was I.
Brow furrowed, I nodded.
Next, Pythia passed me the scroll of papyrus.
Love letters, she whispered conspiratorially. This paper will deliver your message to anyone with whom you are in love. It will also receive and return messages from those same people. Only them. This paper knows your heart, dragon prince.
This gift, I accepted eagerly. I had to tell Nell that I was coming.
Finally, Pythia held out the bottle itself toward me.
Liquids herein stored will become poisonous to unstable degrees, she promised. Some turn you to a soup, while others force you into a light nap for twenty minutes. Usually, these mystical bottles are destroyed in explosions they themselves cause.
“Thank you.” I accepted the bottle into my now cluttered arms. “I will go prepare for my venture. When I r
eturn, Pythia, I will return with Penelope O’Hara at my side, safe, and I will repay you for your gifts.”
I turned to exit this cavern of lights and water.
Dragon prince, Pythia’s sickly sweet voice wheedled in my head. I know what I must have from you.
I twisted round and saw her sitting behind me, seeming serene.
You were not wrong, you see, Pythia cooed in my head. Your destined mate is indeed in Beggar’s Hole. But she is not the drowned girl.
I hesitated, but then shook my doubts away, as if to clear from my senses an unexpected blow. “It doesn’t matter,” I told her sternly, turning to march away.
You do not even wish to know?
I winced. A part of me did need to know, if only because it had been impressed upon me—upon all the people of my culture—that fate and destiny were the pivots on which our entire universe turned. To deny the knowledge of my intended mate was a decision I could never have foreseen myself making, and yet I felt as if the information was almost too powerful to behold. I had made my choice. I couldn’t bear to consult the future intended for me, knowing I had turned my back to it.
I summoned up the courage to reject the oracle’s offer, but it was too late. It had not truly been a question. It had merely been a criticism.
A blurry image flooded my mind, calling to memory paintings of oil and water… but this painting moved. She tossed her dark curls and smiled at me with a sultry, knowing stare. It was Michelle Ballinger as I had first seen her, when she had approached Nell and me at Goose Pond. Her breasts were as forthright as her eye contact in expressing what she wanted. She exuded sex, from her hand cocked against her hip to the fire leaping in her eyes.
With a scoff, I shook the phantom of Michelle from my mind. “I appreciate your concern, Oracle. But it matters not whom the Fates would have thrust upon me, in another world, another time.”
This was a lie. My stomach felt cold and bottomless at the thought of betraying their will. Had I only met Penelope in order to be brought to Michelle? Had we been wrong? Had I been called by the crystal mirror to that beachfront property not by Penelope but because Michelle had been there? And the marketplace where I had been drawn to her, and we had walked to the pond; had that been destined? For the sake of my lineage, for the sake of The Hearthlands, did I need to be with Michelle, and not Nell?