Page 156 of The Shadowed Oracle
“That’s impossible,” Dean said, still shaking off the rage. “She was an icicle twenty minutes ago.”
“Who cares if it’s possible?” Veston argued. “This is progress. A fever is better than, well, whatever it was she was suffering from before, yes?”
Tyla shook her head, twitching in indecision. She didn’t know. That was the scariest part. She had no idea what riddled the princess’s body. None of them did. Without a healer, they were left with guesswork and faith.
“We need to cool her down.” Tyla ripped the blankets from Callinora in one long swipe, revealing the princess had moved again. She’d tucked her head further down toward her chest, bringing her knees up in the fetal position.
Ingrid was delighted at the perceived progress. If Callinora had the wherewithal to huddle herself in a protective state, then maybe she was improving.
Once the warmth of the blanket was gone, the air cold on her fickle temperature, Callinora began to rock slightly. Slowly inching up and down. Up, and down.
“Th… fis.”
“The… ifis…you.”
“Callinora?” Tyle leaned in closer, her ear nearly grazing the princess’s mouth. “She’s speaking. She’s coming out of it.”
Like a wilting flower straining towards the sun, Callinora turned to face them.
“Callinora, can you hear me? Callinora?”
The Princess strained to part her lips. They were cracked at the corners, parched and colorless. Tyla reached for the carafe of water but Callinora did not accept, putting up her hand in protest. For a heartbeat, a desperate plea for help was written in the lines of her face.
“What do you need, Princess?” Veston asked.
Tyla echoed the question. “Anything?”
But as the wrinkles deepened, Callinora’s face reddened to a sickly shade. Her breathing quickened, and then her eyes rolled back into her skull.
“What—what’s happening? Help her!” Veston called out.
Callinora began to convulse unnaturally, her limbs contorting at odd angles. Veins protruded from her forehead, her neck and even her cheeks. The bed shook with the movement, creaking and slamming against the wall of the cabin. And her face… it was now a dark scarlet, burning, pulsing, bloating, and hopelessly unrecognizable as she spoke in a voice that was not her own.
“Thief… I… see you.”
Tyla recoiled, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Raidinn, Veston and Dean all instinctively moved closer to the females that were now mere inches away from the unknown entity inhabiting Callinora’s body.
“I… see… you all.”
Dean was between the possessed princess and Ingrid now, sword drawn and aiming at the bed. At Callinora. At whatever wasinsideCallinora.
Tyla held up a hand to the blade, asking him to wait with a gesture. She wanted to talk to whoever inhabited her friend’s body. To try to reason with it first.
“You can see us,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “But we can’t see you. Who am I speaking to? Who are you? What do you want?”
Callinora’s body shook again. The color in her face had gone from red to purple and then back to anemic white. It appeared that she was fighting back. Fighting for control of her own body. Trying to shake the trespasser from her frail and wounded mind.
She tossed, convulsed, clawing at her hair, screaming and gasping for air like the two souls inside were now battling for control of her lungs.
“Can I help?” Lucilla had come to the entrance of the door, drawn by the noise. “What is happening?”
“We don’t know,” Ingrid said angrily. Anything that wasn’t a direct solution only seemed like a further intrusion. She gave Lucilla an apologetic look, adding, “Callinora isn’t herself.”
Without pause, Lucilla rushed to Callinora’s side and examined her. After a moment, an idea seemed to strike her. She frantically searched for something, rifling through the nightstand, and then her pockets.
“What do you need?” Ingrid asked.
“Something she can bite down on,” Lucilla barked.
