Page 100 of The Shadowed Oracle
“No.” Tyla said it confidently, but still seemed deep in thought. “Well,” she corrected. “I mean, Karis never mentioned it. The only time I can remember him even acknowledging the Libe wasn’t in the best light. He disapproved of their isolated practices. Ironic, I know. But he hated that they only protected other wielders instead of using their powers to help all of Ealis.”
Ingrid remembered Dean saying something like this before, that first night traveling the dark road through tall redwoods.You have a gift most Viator would kill for, he had said. It was why many wielders never told anyone about their abilities. They hid themselves out of fear. Fear of prejudice. Fear of prosecution. Fear of violence.
“Protect,” Ingrid muttered under her breath. “Does that mean wielders were hunted? Arestillhunted?”
“Not so much anymore.” Her teacher fixed her eyes on the floor as if she were ashamed. “But there was a long stretch of time when wielders had to go into hiding. After Izadora’s reign, soon after she’d passed on, there was an influx of wielders being born. Almost overnight, the population of gifted Viator tripled. It was seen as a blessing at first, but, as you well know, power comes with a cost. The common people became increasingly terrified of them. Like they were suddenly too aware of where they sat on the proverbial food chain. Masked Viator would murder wielders in their beds. Anti-magic coalitions formed. And eventually, it all led to the second Great War, when wielders were forced to fight back.”
Hands clasped tightly to her chest, Ingrid asked, “And that became the Libeeri?”
“After a while, yes.” Tyla stood, shaking out her legs. “To avoid any further bloodshed, they disappeared. Even after allthese years, they only show themselves to wielders in need. Although they’re rumored to have been weeded out by Makkar.”
Ingrid scoffed. “And you believe that, do you? In this current climate?”
“No,” Tyla said without hesitation. “I don’t believe it for a second. The Libeeri are out there, somewhere.”
“Then we should go looking for them,” Ingrid said casually, like one might absent-mindedly voice that they were hungry. “Surely they’d help us.”
Tyla shot daggers out of the corner of her eyes. “Did you drink too much of Callinora’s juba tea again? You sound… high.”
Not helping her case, Ingrid said, “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t go looking for them?”
“Sure!” Tyla tossed her head back, making a show of it. “After we infiltrate an entire kingdom and free a cursed prince, we should definitely go looking for an ancient society of magic-wielders that don’t want to be found.”
“I didn’t meannow. Just, it’s something we should consider.”
Ingrid didn’t hold her breath for a response. Tyla had returned her eyes to the window, her arms crossed in contemplation.
“Maybe they’ll find me? Or maybe Callnora’s mother had?—”
Ingrid never got to finish the thought.
“Something is happening down there,” Tyla interrupted quietly. “The people are gathering.”
“Another street fight? Those rumors are really getting out of hand.”
“No…not a fight. There are hundreds down there. More.”
Ingrid quickly joined her side, bending her head just inches from the glass and looking down at the city below. Indeed, a large crowd had gathered at the fortified gateway separating the king’s castle from the townspeople. The portcullis was dropped, the imposing iron door closed, but the brattice in the center hadbeen repurposed, creating a makeshift stage for the onlookers to stare up at from below.
The crowd began to bristle when an unsettling metallic sound echoed from above. It was that same booming bell that rang that first night from the high watchtower just outside the castle gates. The same bell that hadn’t sounded off since. More and more Viator swarmed the scene as trumpets now mixed in, blowing beckoning music throughout the streets.
“Someone called for a meeting,” Tyla said tersely.
“An address to the people? Now?” Ingrid asked.
No word was given to Callinora. Otherwise, they would’ve heard something.
“We need to go.” Tyla gripped Ingrid’s arm and hurriedly led her down the castle steps until they were on the ground level. Keeping pace, they ran with heavy breaths through the halls, footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. There wasn’t a Viator in sight. No guards. No servants. No one. They worked into a sprint as they neared the back of the gate, but nearly stumbled over once they found the princess standing before them. She was alone, her hands clasped behind her in a menacing grip.
Callinora wore no makeup, none of her customary necklaces dangled from her neck, and was only wearing a thin, revealing nightgown underneath a fur coat. It was an outfit she might wear in one of their meetings in her chambers, but not something she would choose to step out into public with. It was clear that she’d only just heard about the gathering.
Callinora gave them a look of warning, keeping her lips shut tight. The pair got the message. This was not the time to speak. Only watch.
Watch as the violent show began.
Ingrid’s mouth went suddenly dry as she peered upward. The stage above the gate, she realized, it was no stage at all. Ithad been turned into gallows. A lifted platform with a spotless guillotine in the center, glistening in the light of day.
Ingrid couldn’t make out most of the faces standing around the archaic device, but she did make out the distinct, stringy blond hair of Ballius. He was standing at the front of the stage, dressed in a long black frock as if he were about to give a sermon.
