Ann Aguirre - Mortal Danger

“Before we go in, understand this. The way I changed your appearance wasn’t magic, but you shouldn’t dismiss the possibility that it exists.”

I raised my brows at him. So many questions, so little time. I picked one. “But … you don’t have access?”

“Favors that most catalysts request can generally be fulfilled through future-tech or mundane resources. If they ask for something astronomical, then I get clearance from Wedderburn and he dispenses whatever artifact I need to get the job done.”

“What are we talking about here? Holy Grail?”

Kian smiled but he didn’t answer. There was an impressive-looking security device attached to the heavy metal door, like the whole setup was worthy of a vault. This time, he didn’t touch the pad. A beam jetted out from the doorframe and scanned his face; a holographic image appeared and then it shimmered as his eyes popped open. The floating head rotated as a computerized voice said, “Identify confirmed. Access granted.”

The door clanked open.

I wouldn’t have been surprised, had smoke rolled out of the room, because whatever was inside had to be major. I just couldn’t decide if it was kept under lock and key because it was so valuable … or so dangerous. Given what I knew of WM&G, it might be both. There seemed to be a shimmer of something … as I stepped through; my ears rang with that peculiar tinnitus I’d noticed when Russ’s face didn’t look like it should. I glanced over my shoulder … and the hallway was gone.

“You all right?” Kian asked.

“What was that?” It was an effort to get the words out. “Where are we?”

What I saw didn’t bear any resemblance whatsoever to a modern building. The walls were dark stone, worn smooth with endless runnels of water. In fact, the air itself was damp and warm. A fire crackled at the center of the cave. There was no other word that fit. Smoke rose up in a lazy spiral, hinting at the presence of a hidden chimney.

“The better question is when,” a drowsy voice answered.

Soon after, a woman drifted into view, clad in a white linen shift. Hair fell in a long black snarl to her knees, yet the sticks and feathers twined in those curls seemed less detritus and more regal adornment. Her skin was pale, marked in intricate whorls that might’ve been ink or soot. The light was too uncertain for me to tell. One thing I was sure of, however; like Wedderburn himself, she had inhuman eyes—no iris, no pupil, just endless gray rings, as if the smoke she breathed had turned into a creature as ephemeral.

Freaking out was beyond me. After a certain point, the shocks left me numb, and right now, an eerie calm had a hold of me. Just as well, panic would leave me unable to think.

“ I am the Oracle. Let’s see how well you know your history.”

This wasn’t my specialty, but I had the feeling this was a test. Quickly I sorted through what I knew of ancient mythology. “Ancient Greece. Delphi. Apollo? Not to be confused with the Sibyl or the Pythia.”

“Apollo, yes. Some have called him that. Sun god, my ass.”

“So I’m right?” I tried a tentative smile, hoping she didn’t ask for dates since I had none. On the balance, I’d do better if she asked me to recite the periodic table. That, I could do. There was even a song; I’d performed it for the mandatory junior high jamboree. For some reason, it didn’t make me wildly popular.

“Indeed. If you’re unfamiliar with the ritual, you present the tribute and then ask me a single question.”

Was the Oracle part of the gift Kian wasn’t sure I would want? Why? Unless her prophecies drove you crazy or she carried the curse of not being believed— no, that’s Cassandra. A glance at him told me nothing; he was pulling vials and phylacteries out of his jacket pockets. The Oracle settled on the floor nearby, staring into the smoke; her expression was vacant and rapt at the same time.

“I’ll handle the offering,” he said softly.

He mixed the liquids and powders into a paste that shimmered with radiance like sunlight shining through harlequin quartz. His hands were graceful as he painted symbols around the fire. I didn’t recognize them, but the atmosphere changed. The Oracle straightened, her posture shifting from silent ennui to quivering excitement, and then she crawled around the circle, her tongue snaking out to freakish length. She lapped until all of the runes he’d drawn vanished beneath each slithering, serpentine swipe. Before my eyes, she … changed, her skin glowing like mother of pearl, and the smudgy lines drawn on her body sharpened as her lips warmed to a ruby hue. The tangles in her hair became like an intricate tapestry, and what I had taken for twigs and leaves now seemed to be gemstones and gold leaf. The crazy thing was, I wasn’t sure when my eyes deceived me—then or now.

“It has been so long.” It was both a groan of protest and an exultant cry.

I swallowed hard. Never had I been more conscious of how deep I’d fallen into a situation I didn’t understand. So many questions, unsatisfactory answers, and that was when I knew exactly what to ask. If this was a gift, then I’d take full advantage.

“You understand the terms, Oracle. You’ve feasted. Now answer.” Kian stepped back then, leaving the exchange wholly up to me.

The woman-thing turned to me in a sinuous movement. For a few seconds, it was as if she had no spine, as if she were a female torso mounted atop the swaying body of a snake. I blinked through that hallucination, and she had legs again, but the smoke stung my eyes. I was feeling a little light-headed, too. Kian set a hand in the small of my back and I exhaled.

Most people would probably ask about their own future, but I needed to know more about the game and its players. Wedderburn wanted me to meet with the Oracle for some reason; therefore, with care, I should be able to turn the situation to my advantage, and nothing was more pertinent than figuring out how to navigate these fiend-infested shadows.

God, I hoped I wasn’t blowing my one chance, but this query seemed like my best bet for an answer of true substance. “Since you’re not human, what is your nature?”

The Oracle laughed. “Clever, clever girl. So many pilgrims, and year upon year, they ask, Will I bear a son? Will he be king? Will my true love come? These are questions written in water, too many futures dancing in the smoke, for I can say yes and yes and yes, then you cross a bridge or do not cross, and the picture changes.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Let me tell you the truth, human girl.” The Oracle moved around the fire, arms twining over her head, in a complicated yet artful dance. “Before things are tangible, they are ideas. I … am an idea someone had, long ago, bound to flesh. Their belief made me real and once real, I had agency.”

“I read a theory once—that human belief is a kind of … energy, and if that enough people sign on, like with an urban legend, it can actually happen.” I didn’t say that I had been on a conspiracy site at the time, one with forums for alleged alien abductees, Bigfoot spotters, and other crackpots.

“Humans have long breathed life into nightmares and creatures of legend,” the Oracle said. “Some fade. They break apart as a new god rises. Others are eternal and immutable, once unleashed.” She bared her teeth in a chilling smile, sharp as shards of bone in a suddenly grotesque face. “How does it feel, knowing that, human girl? That so many of the monsters that stalk your streets are man-made?”

“Good,” I bluffed. Because anything that came from mankind can be undone by us. At least, I hoped that was true. I had so few certainties left. “Thanks, this was enlightening.”