Page 152 of The Shadowed Oracle
Her training had a long and arduous way to go, and she’d need to dive back into it as soon as possible.
All of her enemies… they knew her secret now. They’d be coming for her. They’d be coming for the Oracle.
She’d be hunted more than she’d ever been before.
Dean joined her side again at the rail of the ship. He fidgeted with a bit of dried blood on his hands, bobbing his head as if convincing himself of something.
Ingrid smiled at him. “You have another question, don’t you?” She could see it in his eyes.
Dean kept on nodding. “Did you feel someone, like Arryn said?” He looked to his feet, almost embarrassed by the question. “A spirit?”
“Yes,” Ingrid said simply. Because it was easier than explaining the truth of it. That she’d felt hundreds and hundreds of them behind her. Helping her. Guiding her. “I did.”
Dean didn’t look surprised. “Me too. During that first wave of your power coming out, I thought I saw Karis. Could’ve sworn he was behind you, like he was helping.” He threw a hand up, batting at the air. “But I never would’ve said so if Arryn hadn’t first. Hell, I could’ve been hallucinating. I was probably hallucinating. I had to be… right?”
Ingrid placed her hand in his. “You weren’t,” she said, “I don’t know about Karis. I didn’t see him. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t here.”
She peered below deck, as if her eyes could burn holes through the wood and into the cabins—into the room where Arryn and Callinora were now resting. “I never asked you,” she added, shuddering again at the memory of Callinora’s branding. “Karis. When you found him. Was he marked? Were thosesymbols painted on his skin? The pictures you showed me, his weren’t included.”
Dean seemed to shiver, a deathly coldness overtaking his face. “No. He wasn’t marked,” he said.
“Good.” She pulled him to her side.
And leaning in to one another, her head against his chest, his cheek nuzzled into her hair, they looked out at the horizon.
Chapter Forty-Five
Repairsto the ship’s sails and essential parts of the dock were done by nightfall. Every set of hands was utilized, the world-walkers taking precise orders from the captain and the sailors tasked with the more advanced jobs. The backup sails, made of a strong but lightweight material calledrazim, were fastened in place of the ones too torn to shreds by their shadowy opponents. Raidinn and Dean broke apart carrier crates full of their mock-merchant’s haul, using them to patch up holes in the hull and the floor of the deck, while Tyla and Ingrid checked in with the injured and affected crew members periodically.
The brave crew was understandably shaken, but their pride kept them from speaking of any lingering ailments. Their duty was to Maradenn, and that duty was fulfilled. One of the men, a deckhand who’d been ceaselessly tormented by the army of Shades, refused to say anything at all about his experience. Instead, he asked about Ingrid’s health and the state of the unconscious princess.
His name was Udel. His beard and hair were long and sun-bleached, like most of the crew, and the clothing he wore was weathered and loose-fitting. Yet, despite his rugged appearance,he spoke eloquently, beyond the usual admiration for a monarch.
“I’ve even met with Callinora on occasion,” he said, locking his hands behind his back. “Outside the docks. In the city. Never too good to speak with the working class, our princess.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine once she’s home,” Ingrid said.
“I do hope so.” The deckhand had a look of trepidation, shuffling his feet. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to her? Was she attacked by those Shades?”
She started to answer, but realizing she didn’t know the full extent, considered for a moment. In all her visions, she’s been unable to see what the shackling symbols could do. All she knew was what Enitha had told her. The markings enslaved souls, keeping them from journeying into the afterlife. It turned them into servants, at the will of the wielder who branded them. How it affected a Viator when the victim was still living, though…
“Dark magic,” Ingrid said finally. “But she survived. That in itself shows how strong she is. We’ll find a way to bring her back fully.”
Udel’s lips turned inward, cocking his head. “Wish I had your optimism, Lady Ingrid. I’ve only been able to think of the worst lately. Symptom of what’s been going on in Maradenn, I suppose. We’ve come to expect tragedy. And Callinora, she is our last hope.”
“And now Arryn,” Ingrid offered.
The sailor smiled. “Will the two of them succeed Nestor? That is, if Nestor is still alive.”
In the chaos, Ingrid had failed to fully consider that either. It would be a question for Callinora when she awoke.
“No matter the state of the kingdom,” she said. “Callinora will take the throne. I’ll make sure of it.” A spark of something urgent flashed in her. “In some ways, as awful as it sounds, itmight be better if that rat Ballius went so far as to assassinate the King.”
The look on the Udel’s face stiffened at that.
“Sorry,” she threw in.
“No, no. I agree.” The deckhand waved her off. “What happened to Callinora, once it comes to light, the people will be outraged. But if Nestor was killed by his own advisors, they would riot.” Udel was struck by shyness suddenly. “It’s just, I’ve never imagined speaking with a high-born lady such as yourself like this. So candidly.”
