Its jaws opened in another shriek, its body crouched low on the ground, two arms in front of it, knuckles grazing on the earth, with its hind legs ready to leap up toward me. I couldn’t see the creature’s eyes—its face seemed to be entirely composed of jaw and muscle, attached to an almost bare skull, hairless like the rest of its body.
This time I screamed, dodging to the left and falling into a pool of water. I sent out a barrier of energy, trying to create a dome around myself that would block them. As soon as the barrier took form I realized it wouldn’t be enough—my mind was disordered and weak, too panicked to create anything that might save me. I scrambled to my feet, running on through the water to the nearest ground.
I heard their cries start up again, and the softer movements of them leaping up into the trees. They were enjoying the chase, toying with me, when I knew they could attack and kill me at any moment. I kept running on, seeing the edge of the swamp. Another howl came at me from the left, and I veered off the path to get away from it. I took another leap, but this time was yanked back—something had caught on my nightgown. I turned around, trying to pull it free at the same time. It was caught in the claws of one of them, and the creature yanked it back, swinging me around to face the others.
They had all crouched low in a semi-circle, as if patiently waiting for some signal to leap forward. Their cries had stopped, and all I could hear was my own panting and my heartbeat thudding in my chest. I spun around, back in the direction of the house, but silently, so silently I hadn’t heard a thing, more of them had crept around the back. They were crouched low too—waiting, watching.
I was completely surrounded.
Trying to focus my energy and adrenaline, I threw a barrier as forcefully as I could in the direction of the creatures that blocked the way to the house. It sent two of them reeling back, screeching again, excited that I was putting up a fight. I took my chance—running as fast as I could in the gap they’d left. They gave chase again. Branches whipped at my face and reeds at my legs, but I could barely feel the slices they were gouging into my skin.
Hardly looking where I was going, just praying that I could keep moving until I reached the lawn, I slammed into something hard and solid. Staggering back, I looked up to see the black eyes of the Druid.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
Shoving me aside, he threw a flurry of knives into the air—slim blades making contact with the ground and some of the tree trunks with heavy thuds. A split second after the knives had landed, flames flew up in their place, burning blue and silver as if the metal itself had ignited.
The creatures scurried to the tops of the trees that weren’t burning, screaming down at us—their jaws gnashing at the night’s air, running heavily with saliva. I watched in horror as one of them brushed past one of the flames, its body instantly becoming engulfed in the blue fire. It reared up on its hind legs, toppling backward, looking like a human being burned alive.
I turned my face away, ready to run, my legs shaking so much I didn’t know if I could move them. Without a word, the Druid lifted me roughly up into his arms as if I was no heavier than a feather, and started to run in the direction of the house. I tried to resist, insisting that I could run on my own, but he didn’t seem to be listening to a word I said.
Cradled the way I was, I could see behind the Druid to the beasts that we’d left behind. The fires had started to die down, the creatures once again following us with their cries and howls of anguish at being denied their meal. Unthinkingly, I clutched at the Druid’s arms, my nails pressing into his clothing. I could see them gaining on us rapidly, and I cried out in alarm, wanting to warn him.
Suddenly the Druid leapt over one of the islands, skidding to a halt.
“What are you doing?” I yelled, needing him to keep moving. He didn’t reply, but started to march forward at a slower pace. Three of the creatures leapt toward us, and I tried to wriggle my way free of the Druid’s grasp, but he held on, his grip like stone. Helpless, and wild-eyed with horror, I watched the creatures leap in mid-air—before being knocked back into the swamp water with a heavy splash.
“They can’t cross,” the Druid muttered without breaking his stride. The howls continued as the creatures clawed at the thin air but were unable to cross over.
“Is it a barrier?” I asked breathlessly, my chest heaving as I fought to control my breath.
“Something like that,” he replied.
“Serena!”
A shout went up, and I turned my head to see Jovi and Field moving toward us—Jovi running, and Field with his wings outstretched, flying low across the grass of the lawn. Before they could reach us, the Druid barked at them, “Inside!” without relinquishing his pace or his grip on me.
“What did you do to her?” Jovi cried angrily.
I tried to shake my head to indicate that this time the Druid had saved my life, but I was too jittery to speak, the adrenaline slowly leaving my body. I started to tremble all over, feeling weak and completely devoid of any energy. As we moved across the grounds, Field and Jovi matching the Druid’s pace while they looked at me with shock and concern, I felt glad that I didn’t have to stand or walk—my body felt incapable of doing either.
“You can put her down now,” Jovi told the Druid tersely as we reached the greenhouse. He was ignored, and the Druid only shifted me in his arms as he navigated the glassless door.
“Someone pick up the light,” the Druid snapped as we entered.
Field picked it up, and the two of them followed us into the sitting room just beyond the greenhouse. The Druid placed me down in an armchair, in front of an empty fireplace. As he released me, I realized that he was trembling with rage. I was also dimly aware that I suddenly felt cold, my body noticing the absence of the Druid’s warmth more than anything else.
“Are you okay?” Jovi crouched down next to the chair, and I nodded numbly at him.
“What happened?” he asked, reaching down to my arms to hold them. I noticed I was still shaking, and tried to force myself to stop, but my body just wouldn’t comply.
“I heard you calling,” I replied, my brain feeling fuzzy as I tried to piece together the bits of the story. “The creatures, whatever they were, sounded just like you and Field. And they looked like you…until they changed.”
“What?” Jovi and Field replied together, astonishment coloring their tone.
“They’re shape-shifters,” the Druid interjected, throwing logs onto the fire and not looking in our direction. “Not ones any of you would be familiar with. Once they see and hear a creature, human or supernatural, they can take on its appearance and voice almost perfectly. They must have heard you when you were outside earlier today. Many creatures have met their end by following what they perceive to be friends or loved ones into jungles and swamps, finding themselves surrounded before they realize they’ve been tricked.”
“You didn’t think to tell us about these creatures?” Jovi shot back, glaring at the Druid. The fire leapt to life, casting his face in the light of the red flame.
“I told you it was dangerous out there. I told you not to leave the land—they are not the worst things out there, not by any stretch of the imagination. Serena was lucky.”
Lucky?
I felt grateful to be alive and unharmed, but I certainly didn’t consider myself lucky.
“Do you want to go upstairs, Serena?” Field asked, his eyes wide with concern.
“I’m okay here for a moment… just need to catch my breath.”
I felt comforted by the heat of the fire. The night was still warm, but my body felt horribly cold and empty. The last thing I wanted was to go back upstairs to my room alone.
“Do you need to syphon?” Jovi asked.
I nodded, unable to hide it any longer. As soon as he mentioned it, hunger leapt up inside of me—and to my surprise, I found it drawn mostly to the energy of the Druid. There was something unnaturally bright about the aura his mind gave
off; it felt different to the other supernaturals in The Shade—in some ways more ferocious and angry, but also steady, like he might never run out. Still, remembering how he’d reacted last time, and the fact that I owed him my life for what he’d just done, I turned back to Field and Jovi.
“Would either of you mind?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Jovi replied, “take what you need.”
I started to reach out for Jovi’s energy, finding comfort in the familiar. The event had obviously shocked him—I could feel that his nerves were frayed, and that he was worried, not just about me, but all of us. I could also distinctly feel the taint of anger and dislike he felt toward the Druid, coloring his usually light and playful energy.
Taking only a little, trying to keep track of what he could spare, I felt the warmth coming back into my body and the hunger starting to feel sated. I sighed when I took the last curl of energy, and retracted my mind from Jovi’s.
“Better?” he asked with a grin.
“Much better.”
I looked up to see the Druid eyeing us curiously.
“You let her take your energy?” he asked Jovi, his expression indicating that he found that extremely strange.
“Of course I do,” Jovi said. “We all do.”
The Druid nodded slowly, turning back to the fire to gaze into its embers. Jovi continued to glare at him.
“I understand if you don’t want to go upstairs alone”—Field interrupted the tense silence that had descended—“but you still need to get some rest. I can stay in the room, if you’d like?”
“Thanks, Field,” I replied, “that would actually be good, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “Can you stand?”
“Wait,” the Druid interrupted, holding up his hand for silence. “I think your friends are waking up.”
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
I jumped out of the chair, the last few hours suddenly forgotten as we followed the Druid through to the next room and down to the basement. He hastily lit the lamp on the wall, and we ran down the stone steps. I could feel all of us were anxious to see them. Before we even entered the room, I could hear their breathless panting—faster than earlier, and much louder. Almost as if they were runners coming to the last stretch before the finish line.
Physically they remained unchanged. Their eyes were still closed and they lay still, but their chests rose and fell rapidly. I started to panic when it got louder still… I could practically hear the thuds of their hearts, all galloping in unison.
“Are you sure they’re okay?” I asked the Druid. “It doesn’t sound good.”
The Druid didn’t answer me. He marched over to the bed nearest to him—Aida’s—and felt her forehead. He muttered something that I couldn’t hear, and I glanced over at Jovi and Field. Neither of them seemed aware of the Druid’s actions. Their focus was on the bodies; Jovi’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Field’s arms crossed tightly around himself.
The panting stopped. The room immediately fell silent. I took a step forward, moving in the direction of my brother’s bed, but jumped back in fright as all three of them sat bolt upright on their beds.
Their eyes were open, fixed on the blank wall opposite.
“Phoenix?” I gasped, wanting him to snap out of it, to wake up from his strange state that was making me more and more petrified by the second.
“Don’t touch him!” the Druid commanded me as I took another step toward my brother. Without warning, all three heads suddenly jerked upward. Their eyes rolled into the backs of their heads, showing only the whites of their eyes.
In perfect unison they spoke, their voices raspy and strange:
“We are the Oracles.
We see the past, the present, the future.
We see what is to come, and what has been before.
We see all. Time has no meaning.
In every moment, we are present in all.”
The moment they had finished the last syllable, each of them collapsed backward onto the beds.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I just stared, dumbfounded, at my brother and friends, trying to believe that these were still the people I knew and loved better than myself, but a ringing hysteria in my mind told me that it just wasn’t possible that they were.
“Phoenix?” I whispered again.
He groaned, shifting on the bed as if he was fast asleep. This time I didn’t let the Druid stop me. I took his hand in mine, relieved to find that it had returned to a normal temperature. I squeezed, trying to wake him gently.
His eyes flickered open, and after a moment they settled on mine. He frowned.
“Serena?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Oh my God, you’re awake,” I breathed, trying to smile, to appear reassuring. I could hear the others groaning, shifting in their beds as they awoke.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Phoenix released my hand, moving to scratch the top of his head. The gesture was so familiar I wanted to cry with relief—whatever transformation he had just undergone, he was still my brother.
“Where am I?” he asked instead, looking around at the unfamiliar brick room and the dim lighting. He caught sight of Vita and Aida, instantly looking worried as he took in the strange hospital beds and the white sheets. He looked down at where he was sitting, blinking rapidly in surprise.
“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice stronger this time.
I looked over at the Druid, but felt it was better if I explained.
“Let’s wait for the others,” I replied softly. “Give me a second.”
I moved over to Vita. Her turquoise eyes gazed up at me in confusion, and she gripped my hand tightly.
“Serena, what’s going on? All I remember is feeling sick at the party… Where are we now? Are my parents here?” she asked, looking around wildly. She caught sight of the Druid, and shrank back a little on seeing a face she didn’t recognize. “Serena?” she questioned me, her gaze wary.
I glanced over at Jovi, who was attending to his sister, then looked up at Field. I silently beseeched him to start explaining, because I hardly knew where to begin.
Field cleared his throat, and we all turned to him.
“Glad to have you back.” He smiled weakly. “You’ve been unconscious for an entire day… We were worried.”
Phoenix, Vita and Aida all looked back at him in surprise.
“A day?” Phoenix questioned.
“And a night, almost,” I added, wondering how long it would be till the dawn rose. Field began to tell them what had happened. Like the Druid had done earlier, he told them the backstory first, before outlining the theory of the Druid—that they had all undergone a transformation which would now mean they were Oracles.
“Oh, come on,” Phoenix burst out when Field had finished. “You can’t seriously believe that—I think I would know if I was an Oracle.”
I glanced at Jovi and Field.
“You did just say that you were,” I replied quietly. “All of you did.”
“What?” Aida interjected. “Like, we actually told you we were?”
I nodded.
“You all sat up and said it, at the same time. Which, by the way, was one of the freakiest things I think I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jovi replied. I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood for his sister. I didn’t think it would be even remotely effective, but at least he was trying.
“And you’re the Druid?” Phoenix asked, his brow furrowing in the direction of the doorway. I could see my brother taking in the strong, muscular form of the Druid—sizing him up, working out how strong he was physically. If he could be overpowered. I placed a hand on his arm, stilling him.
“He did just save my life,” I whispered quietly to my brother. “Go easy on him—I really don’t think he means us harm.”
My brother nodded, but I could see his jaw tightening and his suspicion growing as he
surveyed the Druid. The Druid didn’t seem that bothered by the intense speculation he was now receiving. He kept scanning the three of them, his expression almost pleased, as if he was responsible for bringing them through the ordeal, though I hadn’t actually seen him do anything.
“I’ll leave you alone,” the Druid remarked. “Have some water, rest. We can talk more when you’ve recovered.”
Great.
Another conversation on the Druid’s terms. Now there were more of us, I wondered if the dynamics would start to change—if we could demand the answers we so desperately needed, rather than wait for him to dole them out when he chose to.
I looked around for water, not seeing anything.
“I’m going to get water,” I said, giving Vita a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t be long.”
I dashed upstairs, following the Druid. He turned around in surprise just as he reached the top of the staircase.
“Serena?” he asked.
It was the first time he’d spoken my name, and it sounded strange coming from his lips. I mentally shook the feeling away.
“Water,” I replied.
He nodded. “You’ll find it in the banquet room.”
I hurried past him, making my way back to where we’d dined. I entered the room, noticing that the plates had been left untouched, the leftover food congealing. I wondered if the Druid was the one who cooked—he must be, as I’d never seen anyone else in the house.
Taking three cups and one of the jugs that was still filled to the brim, I carried them back with me, moving slowly. A door shut at one end of the hall, past the greenhouse. I looked over, but that part of the house was in gloom. It was probably where he slept. Or perhaps he didn’t sleep—he had seen or heard me in the swamp when Field hadn’t… maybe he kept a constant vigil throughout the night, making sure that nothing crossed the borders that kept his home safe.