Page 13 of The Oracle of Dusk

Phaedra exited his tent in a huff. That smug temple rat. She’d make him lick her filthiest boots before the end. And worse.

As she slipped back into her own tent and beside Aurora, his insidious remark rattled around in her head. Was she really not being the friend Aurora needed? No, that was just him trying to get under her skin. He’d found her weak spot and injected his poison.

True friends protected each other. What could he ever know about their friendship, aside from what that half-blind bitch Orithyia told him? Aurora had protected Phaedra’s heart all these years and had been her solace and her sanctuary. There was no more loyal friend than Aurora. True to her name, she was the promise of light in the darkness. She deserved to shine as bright as the dawn, to smile and laugh and love. Now, when Aurora needed to be protected from the whims of fate and scheming temple dogs, Phaedra would be her sword and shield. In her darkest hour, Phaedra would be her light.

It was some time before she could shake off his words, despite her exhaustion. Eventually, her anger cooled enough for sleep to come.

Until Aurora woke with a panicked gasp.

Chapter 4

Auroraracedthroughthecobbled streets, ignoring the panicked shouts of her mother, the shrieks of colourful birds trapped in wire cages, the cries of gulls overhead, and the crashing of waves against the piers. She ignored the medley of fresh spices, the stink of slaughtered fish and fowl, the perfume of ladies both high and lowborn, the tang of sweat, and the salt of the sea. None of it mattered. The only sound in Trisia that mattered was calling her. It sounded like citrus, it tasted like a cool breeze, it smelled like joy, and it felt like if she didn’t find it, she would never be whole.

Half in a trance, she followed the music only she could experience. Wild magic was calling her, inviting her to awaken. Excitement pushed her faster. Past the market square, beyond the guildhalls and their imposing stone façades, through back alleys and over rusted gates into an overgrown, long-neglected patch of green. Aurora wriggled through thick brush and tangled, thorny bushes that hadn’t seen a gardener’s sheers in decades. Sticky blood ran in rivulets down her arms and the backs of her hands. Her scalp protested the sharp tugging of blonde tresses caught and snagged on twisted greenery. Yet still, she answered the call with nary a whimper.

Freeing herself from the nightmarish hedge, she came upon a small clearing with an even smaller depression in the centre. The music was loudest here, drowning out all else. Aurora stepped closer. From the centre of the depression, a sprig of green slowly wended its way upward. As it reached higher, it grew in thickness, one coiling shoot becoming many. Two branches split outwards, a small, golden fruit growing and ripening on each. Aurora watched, transfixed, not even realising that another girl with russet hair, wild eyes and a tattered, stained silk dress had come into this hallowed sanctuary, heeding the same call. Not until that other girl had reached for the second fruit. They locked eyes then, and ate the gift of the wellspring, juices like liquid gold painting their lips, chins and hands.

As they devoured the last bite, the song that had called her dissipated.

“Who are you?” the girl asked.

“Aurora,” she answered, wincing as the stinging pain of cuts and scrapes replaced the trance. “Who are you?”

“Princess Phaed—”

“I am the one who will devour you whole!”

The sanctuary burst into flames, once-living green turning to ash in seconds. Phaedra lay before her, broken and charred. Aurora screamed and screamed, hands shaking as she collapsed to her knees. She reached towards Phaedra, but the princess disintegrated into ashes, ripped away by the rising winds. Above, the sky darkened, taking on the crimson hue of a violent sunset. The winds whipped past, keening in her ears, dark clouds above swirling into a vortex. From the centre, the beast emerged, a great serpent with blood-red scales and countless, twisted horns, its eyes glowing like fiery gold, lit from within by a bone-chilling hatred. It opened a mouth full of fangs and dove from the sky.

Aurora woke with a start, her heart racing.

“It’s okay. It was just a dream.” Phaedra put her hand in Aurora’s.

Aurora turned her head. Phaedra lay next to her, snuggled close in the tent they’d decided to share after they rode their mounts to near exhaustion. Aurora threw her arms around Phaedra. It had just been a nightmare. She held back her tears as Phaedra held her in turn.

Drakon’s words had chased her nearly the whole way, subdued only by Silvanus’ divine magic. Outside their tent, the pop and crackle of the fire, the calls of owls and the calm nighttime winds accompanied the grunts and snoring of their unlikely companions.

The beast’s voice was silent. They’d managed to outrun it.

Aurora calmed her racing heart and pulled away, squeezing Phaedra’s hand, a strange sense of déjà vu taking hold as she took in Phaedra’s sleep-rumpled appearance.

“What was it about?” Phaedra asked.

“Hmm?”

“Your dream.”

“Nightmare,” Aurora corrected her.

“Whatever it was, tell me. You’ll feel better once you’ve spoken about it.”

Somehow, she doubted that.

“I dreamed of when we found the wellspring.”

“Meeting me wasn’tthatbad.” Phaedra smiled.

Aurora chuckled. No, it hadn’t been.

---