Page 95 of The Oracle of Dusk

Monsters poured out of the shadows, tearing through guards like wet paper. Severed limbs and bloody guts littered the slippery floors. More soldiers poured into the space, desperate to keep the monstrosities contained. Theron led from the front, keeping them from devouring her with his shield and spear.

Aurora tried to scrabble to her feet, to her artefact that was so tantalizingly close in the melee, but slipped again when an elongated arm shot out from the nearest shadow. It dug its taloned paw into her ankle and dragged her towards its serrated teeth as she screamed.

A group of paladins joined the fray. Aurora prayed they would make it to her in time.

Theron turned, seeing her being dragged to her death. He leapt to her defence, jabbing his spear into the beast. He looked back to assess her condition.

It was but a moment, but in that moment, everything changed.

The next monster that rose drove its talons through Theron’s body, showering Aurora in his blood and guts. Red poured from a wound the size of a dinner plate. A river ran down his back and legs, covering gold with the deepest ruby.

Aurora gasped.

Then screamed.

Chapter 17

Theronknockedtheorbfrom Aurora’s hands, ending the vision of his demise. As the scream from her vision bled into the scream tearing out of her throat, Theron wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him as her scream faded into a tortured sob, desperately clawing at his back.

“I’m here. You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

He said it as much for his sake as hers. If her vision proved true, his days were numbered. From her vantage point, he’d watched that monstrosity punch a hole through his torso. It was impossible to say exactly what it would destroy, but if it got his heart, or he passed out from the shock of pain and blood loss, there would be no healing himself.

Aurora swallowed her next sob. She breathed through the next.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“I—it had my ankle.”

“Did you feel it?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

He petted her head, holding her close as she regained her equilibrium. His mind raced in time with his heart. Were her visions spun from fates decreed by the weft and weave of the Tapestry, or was there some way to use them to avoid what was coming? He’d be a fool not to try, but what were his options?

“We h-have to leave. Now. While the guards are on the other side of the vivarium. O-otherwise…”

He shook his head.

“I can’t. Not until I’ve paid restitution to Flora and the high priestess has purified me. Butyoucan. And you should. I’ll arrange your safe transport to Aureum. You’ll leave the moment the gates open.”

If she were removed from play, then he would never be in a position to defend her when the monstrosities spawned. He’d have her sent directly to Aureum. A true oracle was an almost unheard-of advantage. Even if he perished, Batea would put her to good use…provided she could stomach beheading a few of her beasts to placate the little fairy.

If he wanted to survive, he had a great number of things to get done. Theron had to plan for every possibility—that the vision could be false, that it could prove true, that it might be avoided altogether, that it could merely be altered, and that it was written in stone. Flora’s gaudy spectacle would happen in three days’ time. He didn’t have a moment to lose.

“You saw what happened! Please, come with me,” Aurora pleaded.

“I’m stayingbecauseI saw what happened. I was killed protecting you. If you’re safe, I can focus on my own safety until the paladins arrive.”

He wondered about the man in her vision, the Theron of a few days’ time. Had that man always seen her vision, knowing what was to come? He’d never been given to self-sacrificing heroics—kings couldn’t afford to die so frivolously. What would change in the next few days to alter that? Or had it already happened? Had the future been determined simply by viewing it? What could not be denied was that her powers made her just as valuable a player as he, or more so, though she didn’t yet understand that.

In any case, he would be better off without her here, putting herself in danger and distracting him.

“And we can change that future completely if we both leave! Don’t you see?” she asked, gripping his tunic.

“Have you never considered that your visions are immutable, madam fairy?” He cupped her cheek.

Was she so desperate to change the things she saw that it had never occurred to her that she might not be able to? Had her grief truly prevented her from confronting the possibility?

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