Black Velvet did shimmer blue, just before she made the transition, exactly the way all of us shifters do, but she changed really fast. Faster, actually, than any shift I’d ever seen—and we dragons compete on the basis of speed. I know from fast.

  When she reached for the keypad, she cast a coy glance over her shoulder—that should have warned me—and then there was the blue shimmer and a panther holding one paw to the keypad.

  A very large, sleek black panther.

  She laid her paw on the black pad. There was a hum and a click; then she leapt forward and bumped the door with her shoulder. It was an elegant, easy move, once again making me think she did it all the time. She cast us a glance that seemed to be a challenge, especially as her eyes had become a vivid yellow, then she slipped into the apartment, like a shadow in the darkness.

  Meagan and I took one look at each other, then followed. It was dark in the apartment, so we moved slowly, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the shadows there. As far as I could tell, the apartment was spacious and luxuriously furnished. The carpet was really thick under our feet.

  But dark. Dark like midnight. Dark like the windows that had to surround the penthouse had been draped. Sound was muffled, as well, as if there was a lot of fabric around us, and the darkness seemed to press against our ears.

  Never mind that as soon as we stepped over the threshold, the door slammed behind us. There was that same whir and click, echoing loudly in the silence. I reached back immediately, but the door was locked. There was no lock hardware on this side, either.

  I didn’t need to see the future to know that this was not good. I felt the pulse of several dozen heartbeats and panicked.

  “You’re all shimmery,” Meagan whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re not alone,” I told her, because it was true.

  I didn’t say any more to Meagan because that was when a woman screamed.

  Chapter 5

  My blue shimmer—generated because I was on the cusp of change and unable to do anything to stop it, not after that scream—illuminated the foyer of the apartment a little bit. It took me a second to hear the muffled murmuring of many, many women.

  The ones whose heartbeats I’d heard first.

  Black Velvet nudged open another door then, because we saw her silhouetted in a rectangle of bright light to our left. The woman screamed again and I could hear women trying to reassure her. Black Velvet disappeared into the room and the door didn’t quite close behind her.

  I took that as an invitation. I nodded at Meagan and we went to the door together. I peeked around the edge as the woman screamed for a third time; then someone hauled the door open wide to reveal us standing there.

  There was a big bed in the middle of the room; that was the first thing I saw. And a woman was lying on it, her expression anguished and her knees up. She was surrounded by about a dozen women, and Jessica, too. All of them were focused on her, and the one who had opened the door indicated that we should be silent.

  All of the women, even Jessica, were wearing red dresses. They were like tubes of sheer fabric, gathered on a drawstring at their shoulders and tied at the waist with a gold cord. They were all barefoot, and the cloth was sheer enough that I could see their legs silhouetted beneath. Even Jessica had abandoned her usual baggy clothes and baseball cap for the sheer red dress. She was clearly the youngest present, but the others treated her with deference. She looked as gorgeous and feminine as she had at Halloween, but more glam.

  Was this some kind of ceremony? The bed was more like a platform than a bed you’d sleep on, or maybe like an altar. It had four large golden pillars, one at each corner, which actually connected to the gilded ceiling. I’d thought at first that the light emanating from the room must be sunlight, but it was candlelight reflecting on gold.

  The walls were lined with cat sculptures. Most of them were gold, and most of them had red stones for eyes, like rubies. There were candles placed between them on the shelves, the flickering light making the cats seem alive, as if their red eyes were scanning the room.

  The whole room shimmered gold and looked exotic. It felt to me as if there were many more present than just the women we could see.

  I heard Meagan catch her breath when she saw Jessica, but I’m not sure Jessica knew we were there. Her attention was fixed on the woman on the bed and she looked a bit nervous. Why was Jessica here? Was she related to this woman? Or did she know her well? Black Velvet climbed onto the bed and lay beside the woman like a pet—or maybe a sentry.

  “Push next time,” advised one of the attending women. “It’s close.”

  The woman on the bed was delivering a baby.

  She had time to nod before the next contraction rippled through her body. She tipped her head back and bared her teeth but didn’t scream. I saw her clench a fistful of Black Velvet’s fur, and Black Velvet’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t move away or protest. One of the attending women reached to coax the baby into the world, and another firmly guided Jessica to the foot of the bed.

  Jessica swallowed.

  The baby’s crown appeared, wet and dark.

  “Push,” advised the woman who must be the midwife. “Push.”

  The next contraction came; the mother pushed. The women leaned closer.

  The candles flickered simultaneously.

  Meagan and I grasped each other’s hands.

  And the baby surged forth in a rush. The midwife lifted the baby and cleared the mucus from its face. She cut the cord, and the baby cried out for the first time, its yowl nearly bouncing off the walls. The midwife tied the cord expertly, as if she’d done this a thousand times. The mother gasped with relief, smiling as the midwife put the child in her arms.

  I’d never seen a baby born before. I wasn’t sure whether it was gross or amazing.

  The thing was that even though the baby seemed okay, tension remained in the air. The mother rose to her knees, her gaze locked on her baby, and the attending women gathered closer. Jessica looked as if she were facing down a terrible midterm.

  What were they worried about?

  One woman gave Jessica a nudge, and she stepped forward. She reached for the child, who was still naked. It was a girl. The attending women watched with obvious anticipation; then one woman began to sing.

  It was singing but not like choir practice. She made a wordless cry, kind of lalalala, one that reminded me a bit of Jessica’s ability to sing scat. The woman beside her joined in, adding her voice. At regular intervals, another woman would join the cry. The ululation rose in volume as each woman added her voice to what became a chorus. It vibrated in my ears and made me shiver.

  Jessica closed her eyes as if concentrating and held the child high. Every gaze was locked on the baby. What was supposed to happen? The song grew in intensity as the baby flickered blue and gold in her grip. The candle flames danced all around the room. There was a crackle of energy in the room, as if something had been summoned.

  I gasped when I saw the cat sculptures on the wall move. At first I thought they’d come to life, but it wasn’t that. There were ghostly cats between the sculptures, so many of them that the sculptures seemed to disappear in their midst. The golden ghost cats with red eyes mewled the same note as the women, watching Jessica.

  In the same instant, a shape became visible in the haze of color around the child, a shape other than the child’s own shape.

  Superimposed on the shape of the child—or maybe coexisting with it—was the shape of a great golden cat.

  The women gasped with relief and pleasure.

  Meagan caught her breath. “She’s a puma!” she whispered.

  The chorus ended with a triumphant cry. The attendants smiled in relief at each other, then embraced as the mother fell back with obvious satisfaction. The candle flames stilled, flickering normally as they had before, and when I looked at the sculptures on the wall, there were no more cat ghosts.

  One woman held up a finger for silence. “She will be
a puma,” she corrected, then she smiled at Jessica. “The new Oracle of Bast has awakened the ancestors to reveal the child’s future. It is as all should be.”

  Jessica kissed the child, once on each cheek and once on her forehead. “Her name will be Safiya,” she said with greater confidence, and I recognized that summoning the vision of the child’s future had been a test for her. Or maybe the test had been awakening the ghosts. “Hold it sacred for Bast. May Safiya live long and bear many.”

  “May Safiya live long and bear many!” echoed the women.

  Jessica handed the child to the mother, who kissed the little girl just as Jessica had.

  Then she handed off the baby to the midwife and clapped her hands. An older woman brought her a golden box, like a little lidded casket. Jessica caught her breath at the sight of it, and the new mother smiled. She opened the box, revealing a golden necklace. It was made of linked squares, the hinges hidden so that the necklace appeared to be a solid gold band. It was more supple than that, though, because of the links. It was about two inches wide and there was a red gem mounted on the front square.

  I saw that when she fastened the necklace around Jessica’s neck. “Praise be that the power continues. Praise be that the ancestors have acknowledged a new Oracle. Praise be that Bast continues to show her favor to her faithful.” She gave Jessica the same trio of kisses that seemed to be their habitual salute, then spun her around. “Hail the new Oracle!” she said, and the assembled women cheered.

  Jessica touched the necklace with her fingertips and bowed her head. I could see that she was both jubilant and overwhelmed.

  Kind of the way I’d felt when Urd had first called me Wyvern.

  The new mother guided Jessica toward us, her eyes glinting with purpose. I was amazed at her energy, given that she’d just had a child. “And so you have been permitted to enter our sanctuary,” she said to Meagan and me.

  “This is our Oracle,” Jessica said, her awe obvious. From that and the attitude of the other women, I assumed this new mother was the Bastian equivalent of my dad.

  She nodded, her gaze never leaving me. I felt interrogated before she even asked a question. “I allowed you to enter our sanctuary because of the depth of Jessica’s concern. I needed her to be able to concentrate. But now you must tell me, Wyvern—why are you seeking Jessica?”

  I told her and Jessica about Mozart’s shadow and about King’s instructions.

  “He did as should be done. He kept his vow,” she said with approval, then turned to Jessica. “You have the power to heal his shadow, and I am too tired to do it well. It must be done today, after sunset. He will be safe until then, but act quickly once the darkness falls.”

  “Yes, Oracle,” Jessica said, and bowed.

  I wanted to ask the Oracle a whole bunch of questions, but she spoke crisply, ensuring I had no chance. “And so you have witnessed one of the great mysteries of our kind, Wyvern. I allowed this because of the treaty between us, but you will not leave this sanctuary without making a pledge of secrecy.”

  Her gaze turned even more steely then, and I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine the flicker of red in the depths of her eyes. She reminded me a little bit of Skuld, to tell you the truth.

  “What do we need to promise?” Meagan asked.

  The woman looked at Jessica, who squared her shoulders and spoke. “The mysteries of the vessels of Bast shall not be shared with any of the male gender. You must swear to say nothing of what you have seen to any man or boy, of any kind.”

  The Oracle nodded approval of Jessica’s words.

  So that was why King had refused to talk. Either he didn’t know more or it was smarter to keep what he knew to himself.

  The problem was that I wasn’t so good with this request.

  “But there are other male shifters in our alliance,” I began to argue, and the Oracle’s eyes narrowed.

  “We, the vessels of Bast, have endured for five thousand years,” she said, her tone inflexible. “And we shall survive for five thousand more, alliance or no.”

  I thought it tactless to point out that the lion shifters, who were of their kind, had been exterminated by the Mages and that the remaining cat shifters had been enslaved by them afterward.

  But I thought it.

  And she knew it.

  “I have made an exception for you, because you freed us from captivity, but do not press me too far, Wyvern. We survive because of our ability to keep our secrets.”

  “But we all need to survive. I saw the ShadowEaters summoned.…”

  She smiled, and her tone turned condescending. “And what should we care? Do you not know what the ShadowEaters are, Wyvern?”

  I had to shake my head.

  “They are Mages who failed.” She sneered this last word. “They are Mages who tried to perform the final ceremony, to become pure spirit and merge with the universe, thereby turning all to malice. In that form, they would fill the thoughts of men with poison and hatred, inciting wars and strife and feeding greed. In the dissent, the remaining Mages could build their powers without interference, then ultimately dominate us all.”

  This was horrifying stuff.

  Her eyes shone. “But they failed in making that critical transition. They are snared between our sphere and the realm of pure spirit, and this renders them harmless to anyone in either realm. Only the Mages can invoke them, and thanks to your efforts, the Mages are impotent, or close to it.”

  “But I saw them here.…”

  “You could not have.” She shook her head firmly. “What ShadowEaters can influence is dreams. It is the highest form of spellcasting. They can give nightmares, Wyvern, and undermine your faith in what you know.” She regarded me, her eyes glittering. “Do not believe everything you dream to be true.”

  I felt slapped down. Stupid. Like a kid.

  That was her intent.

  The Oracle leaned closer to me, her eyes now shining with that red glow. I could see a golden cat shape surrounding her, like an aura or a ghost, and guessed that she was on the cusp of shifting shape. Which meant she either felt threatened or was mad.

  Or both.

  “Now promise,” she hissed.

  I couldn’t just give in, not after she’d spoken to me like that.

  “No guys? Absolutely none?” I asked. All the dragon shifters were guys, and they were my friends. How could secrets not divide us? “Not my dragon friends or the wolf shifters? What about guy cat shifters, like King and Mozart?”

  “No males may know of this divine secret,” she said with resolve. “Those you call King and Mozart have accepted this truth.”

  Wow. Did guys even have names in the realm of the Bastians?

  The Oracle put out her hand. “Pledge your silence, Wyvern. Pledge it now.” She smiled coldly, her gaze flicking to the cat sculptures on all sides of the room. “Or you will remain the guest of the ancestors forever.”

  I looked again and realized that the sculptures were actually jars. I could see now that the cat head on each one was a lid. What was inside them? She was talking about ancestors, and I was thinking about remains.

  Was there a jar in this room with my name on it? I shuddered despite myself at the very idea. I could see them again, those shadowy cat ghosts, shimmering and gathering, slipping around our small group. The Oracle kept her attention fixed on me, her gaze unblinking. I thought about that door with no hardware. Jessica was watching, still fingering her necklace, and I could hear Meagan’s heart thumping.

  I did not have a lot of options.

  “I pledge it,” I said, not having any idea how I was going to make this work.

  The Oracle’s smile flashed. She kissed me then, with that same trio of kisses, and when her face was close to mine, she whispered. “Make no mistake: I shall know if you break your word.”

  There was a brilliant shimmer of gold and I saw those milling ghost cats on all sides again. They were all looking at me, their red eyes gleaming, and I knew they would be the ones to
rat on me—ha—if there was cause to do so.

  I had to hope she was right about the ShadowEaters.

  But I didn’t believe it.

  With one last smile, the Oracle turned to her new daughter and the midwife, dismissing us from her attention. Jessica watched the other women for a minute, a kind of yearning in her eyes. She was one of the Bastians, I saw, but not really like them.

  A wildcard, just like me.

  “Did you ever do that before?” Meagan asked.

  Jessica shook her head. “Never.” She glanced over her shoulder at the women. “The mother is the current Oracle, so she couldn’t do the ceremony this time. I knew theoretically how to awaken the ancestors, because she taught me how to do it, but it’s a lot different in real life. My mom was sure I could do it. I just hoped I wouldn’t screw it up.”

  “No pressure,” I said, understanding completely. She flashed me a smile. “You look like you could use a chocolate bar.”

  “Ice cream.” Jessica grinned and nodded. “Definitely ice cream. Just let me get changed.”

  “And we’ve got big news,” Meagan said.

  “I figured that when I heard Zoë in my thoughts.” Jessica gave me an intent look.

  So that, at least, had worked.

  “Can you really heal Mozart’s shadow?” I asked.

  Jessica nodded with confidence. She tapped her necklace. “I can, now that I have this.”

  That was good news. I had to think that things were finally looking up.

  Relatively speaking.

  IT DIDN’T TAKE JESSICA LONG to get back into her usual clothes, complete with the baseball hat jammed over her ponytail. I couldn’t even see the golden necklace under her T-shirt and hoodie, but I was sure it was there. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just forgot and left behind.

  The apartment was lit normally now, the women having opened the blinds and drapes. It was a beautiful apartment, decorated in black and gold with Art Deco furniture. There were big vases of flowers, everything so perfect that it looked like a photograph. I caught a glimpse of a fantastic view of the lake out the windows on the far side.