Page 45 of The Shadowed Oracle
It seemed to be the wise choice. Raidinn would’ve gotten on her nerves, or accidentally killed her with that brutish size of his. And after this small, but poignant moment of awkwardness, she couldn’t see herself focusing properly if Dean were the one teaching her.
“You sure?” Tyla offered one last time.
“I’m sure.”
“That settles it,” Tyla said. “Meet me back here in, let’s say half an hour. I know you probably have some things to sort out.”
Ingrid nodded. “Thirty minutes. Got it.”
Tyla shuffled off and Raidinn followed just behind, leaving Dean behind again. He lingered a moment, opening his mouth but shutting it quickly. They shared an understanding moment of mutual embarrassment, then he walked off and closed the door behind him, giving Ingrid the space she needed, and the silence she needed to do it in.
Ingrid paced back and forth in the deceptively enormous basement, mulling over what to say. Her boss and closest friend Franky was still in the dark about where she was, and she’d been dreading the inevitable conversation since last night. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to a friend. It was saying goodbye to heronlyfriend. Her only connection to the world outside of the revolving faces of her bar regulars.
No matter how impossible an alternative route was, how badly she’d wanted to tell Franky the truth about all this, she felt that lying to him was some kind of betrayal. She’d always promised herself that she’d never abandon someone she cared for. That she wouldn’t add to the cycle, wouldn’t let her trauma infect others. It was why she was so meticulous about who she let into her heart. But she would have to.
For his safety, she’d have to lie.
Since her phone had been destroyed, Ingrid made the call on a thirty-year-old landline that was placed inconspicuously between two large filing cabinets on the back wall. It was completely hidden in darkness, where she could speak in private without the physical reminders of who and what she was now surrounded by. Which helped immensely.
This new reality and her old reality, as Dean had said, they simply could not coexist.
“Hello?” Franky was clearly hesitant at the unknown number, but once Ingrid spoke she had to pull the phone a few inches from her ear as Franky bellowed out his relief.
He asked if she was well, if she needed help, and if she was safe.
“I’m safe,” she said, recounting a shortened version of the events from the day before, all the way up to the point when the invisible creature attacked her. Only in this version, the assailant was a masked man.
“I’ve been moved to a safe house. And it really is. Safe, I mean. I’ll be okay.”
“Thank god, kid.” The stout man released more exalted sighs, anger underlining his curses and gratitude. “Is there anything I can do? Just a few hours ago, I was talking with Jillian about putting the story out there. And I think we can get security for both doors at the restaurant in just a matter of days. Morecameras. A few guards disguised as hostesses and waiters. It’ll be easy.”
He went on and on, just like he always spoke when trying to help. With each offer, Ingrid’s heart sank deeper, and her eyes grew heavier. She could barely speak, barely form sentences in her mind, and it didn’t take long before the jovial man sensed something had drastically changed.
Franky knew Ingrid. He knew she was always honest with him. Which meant if she was silent, it was to avoid lying.
“I’ll be gone for a while,” she said finally. “And I can’t make contact past this phone call. It’d be too dangerous for you.”
The humming quiet was too much for either of them to endure.
“Okay,” Franky said, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, kid. You don’t deserve this. Not after everything…” He paused.
The two of them had never discussed in detail all of the hardships Ingrid had been through, but they’d talked about enough for him to know. To understand.
The pair weren’t much for words anyway.
“I will see you again.” Ingrid felt like she’d swallowed one of those viseer stones. “Don’t get sappy on me, old man.”
Franky tried to laugh it off. “I know you’ll be fine. You always are.” That same anger, along with a sprinkle of pride was now evident in his words. “This maniac, whoever he is, he’ll rue the day he decided to fuck with Ingrid Lourdes.”
Chapter Fifteen
Where Dean had communicatedto Ingrid in a measured manner, moving at her pace and allowing for bumps and asides, Tyla instead imparted her teachings at a much faster speed with no breaks, no time for questions, and no time for hand-holding. The nurturing, soft-spoken woman from early that morning was nowhere in sight, and this new, warrior version of Tyla began her lesson.
She explained the simple process of using the viseer stones to scare off Wranes first. “Point and fucking pray. As long as it’s deriving power from the Viator holding it, it’ll create a beam of energy they can’t withstand.” Then she explained the more defensive aspects of the stone. “When placed in tandem with other stones around a small area, they’ll act as a barrier warding off Wranes.”
“Just Wranes? What about Sha?—”
“Shades too,” Tyla interrupted. “Now, we already have a barrier around the property. But if you ever need to set a protective parameter yourself, you only need to close the circle. There’s no set distance. We haven’t tested it that closely. To be safe, we keep it within 60 meters.” She froze, as if just nowrealizing her geographical location. “Oh, umm. You’re American, duh—about two hundredfeet.”
