To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1) (31 page)

Tears glistened in Sura’s eyes, and she looked away. “People said The Protectors were responsible, but I’m still not sure to this day. I was too young to really understand, but not my brother. His death was…
difficult
for Asher.”

My heart clenched. He’d lost so much, so young. This strong man no doubt carried tender wounds beneath his walls of anger.

“And what do you know about his real father?”

Her eyes were hollow as she spoke. “Nothing. Mother refused to talk about him, other than to hint that a Protector took his life too.”

Emotion squeezed my chest. “I guess those are two good reasons for Asher to hate us.” I hesitated. “Do you think he’ll always hate The Protectors?”

She brushed away another tear and cleared her throat. “You mean, will he always hate you?”

I blushed. “Yes.”

She spoke without hesitation. “I don’t know, but I hope not.”

So she wasn’t sure either.

“Maybe it’ll help him, when he finds out you’re safe and happy.”

“No!” she cried, springing to her feet. “You must promise me you won’t tell him you found me.”

I frowned, confused. “But he’s suffered, searching for you. Every day you’re gone, he hurts more. It might bring him some peace...”

She walked around the table and drew one of my hands into hers. “Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t bear to think of him hating me.”

“He won’t—”

She laughed, a humorless laugh, as a tear streaked down her cheek. “Tell him I’m dead.”

I shook my head and tried to free my hand from hers, but she held on tightly. “You ask me to lie to the man I love.”

Her hands tightened painful around mine. “So, you’ll lie to him to keep his love, but you won’t lie to him to keep him loving
me
?”

She released her grip on my hand, and I recoiled from her. “Don’t ask me to do this. News of your death will break his heart.”

Tears fell faster down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and spilling on her gown. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Then don’t ask this of me.”

Sura took a step towards me. “Consider what’s best for Asher. Then, do what you feel is right.”

I walked to the living room and paced until I caught sight of my frantic movements in the large mirror near the stairs. Candles danced in scones every few feet on the walls, and the light cast a soft glow over my reflection. I would hurt Asher, whether I told him the truth or told him she was dead, and the helplessness of my situation was written on my face.

And, I’d have to tell him what I was.

Blair and the others seemed to think I was the answer to this war, even though there were others with stronger magic than me, and others who could fight better. The only thing I had was Asher, the last living wizard. And if I lost him, I couldn’t imagine another way to win this war. But could I live with myself if I received his help through my lies?

“Have you decided?” she asked, stepping into the room, her hands entwined as if in prayer.

Sura should be the least of my concerns, and yet, her problem had somehow become mine.

“I don’t know how I’ll respond.”

She moved closer to me, her face flushed and swollen. “I guess it’s up to you then.”

Exhaustion slammed me as I turned away from her. My brain hurt. Couldn’t anything be simple anymore? And when did it become so hard just to have a complete thought?

“The days have felt so long since I became a Protector,” I said, rubbing my face.

Sura moved to my side, her hand pressing lightly on my back. “I forgot how tiring it can be in the beginning; let me show you to your room.”

I wanted to ask her more, but since I didn’t know what, I allowed her to lead me up the winding staircase into a small room. My gaze swept over the shades of blue that decorated the room, to the small dressing table and mirror, and past the window overlooking the city, to the bed. It was a welcome sight.

Sura allowed me to collapse onto it, and I heard her whispered, “sleep well,”
before my eyes closed.

Exhaustion had settled inside of me, but I found it hard to sleep as a sudden thought seized me. Clarissa had said there would be
more
tests. No doubt, they’d brought Sura and I together on purpose, but I had the sickening feeling that there was more to me staying in this place than that.

But what?

What felt like seconds later, I awoke with a start.

Someone was bouncing on my bed.

“Dogs can sleep when their masters tell them to,” Clarissa sneered, looking down at me.

I sat up groggily.

She leapt soundlessly to the floor.

“What are you doing?” I groaned.

She grinned, an expression made sinister by the deep shadows cast over her face. “What Blair commanded me to do, and I can’t think of a better time than now.”

I scowled at her, rubbing my eyes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Her smile faded. “When you’ve seen the things I have, the only escape from the nightmares is simply not to sleep.”

The urge to ask whether her lack of sleep had led to her madness came and went in a flash. I valued my life more than that.

“Have we heard news of the wizards?” It was the only explanation I could imagine for why she was in my room in the middle of the night.

My question struck her silent for a moment. “We haven’t a lot of time left.”

Something about her answer made my pulse quicken. “What are we going to do?”

She walked to the window, and the moon bathed her in its light. For a second I remembered my first impression of her, a beautiful creature with the face of a goddess, and a voice like chimes blowing in the wind. Was that who she was before The Protectors took her? Or had she been broken long before?

“There,” she said, pointing to something in the distance.

I rose from my bed, squinting and rubbing my eyes. She pointed at a hill that was located at the outskirts of the city. It was taller than any others, almost sheer on all sides like a stake planted in the earth.

Beneath the soft light of the moon, I thought I made out a winding path, twisting around until it reached the building at the top. At least, I thought it was a building. Tall white pillars rose and then disappeared into dark clouds.

“What is it?”

Anger twisted her mouth, and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time for stupid questions. Now, let’s go. You finally need to prove your worth.”

I wanted to argue with her, but what was the point? These women had plans for me, and what they were, I could only hope was in the best interest of the people of Tarak. So, very quickly, I straightened my wrinkled dress and went to the mirror and washbasin to comb my hair, readjusting Sirena’s barrette. I scrubbed my face and teeth, before turning and nodding at Clarissa who glowered silently.

She led me out of the darkened house and into the streets of Ponya. The city was lined with streetlamps that flickered in their glass enclosures, creating ever-changing shadows around us. We saw no one as we moved, and there was an eerie stillness as I listened to the sounds of our feet pounding on the cobblestone.

When we at last reached the hill, the moon had risen to its zenith. The stone road ended at the base of a dirt path that winded around the steep hill.

“What’s at the top?”

My question seemed to shake Clarissa into action, and she strode forward into the dirt. “It’s where the Oracle lives.” She snickered. “The useless Oracle.”

A real Oracle? My sense of wonder overpowered my exhaustion. These rare men and women were the few blessed with the ability to speak to the goddesses. The rest of us, we prayed to ears that easily tuned us out. But the Oracles, they were people who could whisper into the goddesses’ ears. They could still be ignored, yet they had a better chance at being heard than the rest of us.

What was more, the goddesses used them to send the rest of us their direct messages. Rather than bringing fires and plagues upon us when displeased, or taking on a human shape to spy, trick, and punish, they often shared their wants and needs with the Oracles. A much better method of communication, in my opinion.

But then I recalled the rest of her words. “Why is he useless?”

Goddesses’ breath
, did I really ask her another question?

But, for once, Clarissa answered my question without a hint of the strange flare-ups of anger or sadness that usually accompanied her answers. “The Oracle was important, but he’s nothing more than a memory now.”

“He’s dead?”

Her breathing became labored as we continued our climb, and my own pulse quickened with the effort of our journey. “No,” she said, taking a deep breath. “But the people don’t have much use for an Oracle who can’t speak to the goddesses.”

My thoughts swirled as we continued walking. How could this man be an Oracle if he couldn’t speak to them? And why had the goddesses turned a deaf ear to him?

When we nearly reached the top of the hill, a young man was waiting. He wore a white robe trimmed with gold, but his dark hair was a wavy mess on his head, falling unevenly over his collar.

“Greetings,” he said, his voice nearly as breathless as if he’d been the one climbing. “We’ve been waiting so very long for you.”

He was gazing at me, his sun-tanned face glowing with something I couldn’t name.

“Are you the Oracle?” I asked.

Clarissa snorted. “Is she everything you hoped for?”

He ignored her, his gaze still firmly on me. “Oh no, I’m not the Oracle, but I’ll take you to him.”

I shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t move. “And what should I call you?”

He beamed. “I am Jundro, assistant to the Oracle.”

“Glad to know you.” I glanced around him, trying to peek beyond the wall of dirt to the building made of pillars.

“Oh,” he said, disappointment lacing his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you waiting.”

I tried to give him my most reassuring glance. “Not at all.”

Jundro didn’t move, even after a long, awkward pause.

“Come on, boy,” Clarissa growled. “She’s not Blair. You don’t have to be an awe of her.”

He blushed. “Sorry!”

Jundro turned and led us up the remainder of the hill, but to my surprise, clouds gathered as we rose. They weren’t thick and dark as they’d appeared from Sura’s home, but pale white and wispy, drifting around us like translucent sheep. Something about them screamed
magic
. Not just because they were so low to the ground, but because of the strange way they moved, almost like they were conscious creatures.

“This place is blessed,” Jundro said, watching me from over his shoulder.

My sense of wonder grew as we walked among the magical clouds. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

I reached out and brushed my fingers across one drifting in front of me. It might have been my imagination, but it felt soft and cool beneath my fingertips. I smiled. This was truly a place of magic.

“When they built the Oracle’s home, the goddess Nepheia, the goddess of the cloud nymphs, blessed this place.” He paused, looking back at me. “And even though we are forsaken, the nymphs still send us clouds.”

He looked sad as he spoke, his big brown eyes reminding me of a pet dog Sirena had once had.

I struggled with something to reassure him. “Maybe the nymphs continue sending clouds because the people of Tarak are still in their hearts.”

He smiled. “Perhaps.”

I looked to Clarissa, not sure what else to say. She was trying her best to look bored, but anger boiled beneath her surface. What was going on?

“Can we move this along, boy?” she hissed. “I’m sick of watching you fawn over her.”

Red hot embarrassment rose to his cheeks and spread down his throat and over his face. “My apologies,” he whispered, before scurrying faster.

He led us at last to the Oracle’s home. Tall white pillars, thicker than any man rose in what appeared to be a massive circle. White stone steps, smooth and flawless, led us beneath the pillars and into a wide space.

Looking up, the pillars rose and disappeared into thick white clouds that filled the air not thirty feet above us. Sheer curtains of white fabric hung between the pillars, blowing in the soft breeze and creating constant movement around us.

I stood still, my heart racing. This is how I’d imagined Unity, the goddesses’ home in the clouds. There was an air of something beyond magic, something sacred and unexplainable. The hairs on my arms stood on end as another cool breeze swept over us. A hint of rain scented the air.

If I were a sailor, I might think it was an omen, but all I knew of the sea was from books, and so I couldn’t be certain if it were a bad omen or a good one. Still, I chewed at my bottom lips, torn between fear and excitement.

Jundro guided us across the white floor, which glittered beneath the glow of hundreds of candles, flickering from their random spots built into the pillars. Our feet sounded monstrous and inelegant as we crossed the floor. In the center, stairs led down into darkness, but we continued past these to a line of more thin curtains. They shifted as we paused in front of them, revealing more steps going up, lit by small candles.

“She has arrived,” Jundro called.

We waited for another long minute, and then, as if he’d received a response, he pushed back the curtains and turned back to stare at me expectantly. I was reluctant to move past him, apprehensive of what I might find. To be in the presence of someone who could, or had, been able to speak to the goddesses was a wondrous thing.

I inched forward.

Small flames lit the way, leading up to a platform where the clouds parted, revealing more pillars. Neither Clarissa nor Jundro followed me, and I got the sense that they’d known all along that I would go on alone.

I crept up the stairs until finally reaching the top, but what I saw confused me. Leaning down, my fingertips brushed the floor. They broke through the freezing surface, sending tiny ripples through the clear substance. Light came from somewhere beneath the floor made of water, illuminating the pool in front of me.

Standing up straight, my gaze scoured the massive pool of water, now glowing softly. A tiny path of white stone rose, less than an inch below the surface. Beyond that, the path led to an island of white marble, upon which, an old man sat on a marble bench, staring into a basin.

“You may approach him.”

I spun around. Jundro had soundlessly come to stand on the step just below me. Clarissa, however, was nowhere to be found.

Kneeling on the steps, I removed my boots on instinct and ran my hands nervously along the skirt of my blue dress. Not once that day had I considered the appropriateness of what I wore. It was out of style, but practical. Next to the pristine white around me, however, the dress seemed terribly out of place.

“Just walk right across,” Jundro said, tapping his bare foot in a nervous gesture.

I rose and gathered my skirt in my hands, just enough to keep it from getting wet, but not so much as to offend the Oracle. Dipping my foot into the water, my breath caught in my throat. It was colder than I thought possible. My foot came solidly upon the stone.

Testing my weight on it, the step held.

In less time than I’d expected, I made it across the water to the island of white marble, and the Oracle.

Jundro followed, standing beside me on the island.

Only the white marble table, with the basin, separated the old man from us.

“Oracle,” he whispered, bowing low.

I followed his lead, but couldn’t resist peeking up at the old man. He was neither fat nor thin, with tiny wisps of pale white hair growing from his otherwise bald head. Dark age spots marred his head and wrinkled face, and his eyelids had fallen so low, that only tiny slivers revealed blue eyes. He too wore a white robe, only it was adorned by nothing, no gold, no intricate symbols or designs.

The Oracles mouth moved, but no words came past his lips.

“He wants you to sit beside him,” Jundro murmured.

My heart fluttered in my chest. Could I really sit beside a man so blessed by the goddesses?

Clouds gathered more thickly over our heads.

Would my presence in this sacred place offend the goddesses? I was no longer just a girl. I was a Protector, whether I wanted to be or not, and some of the goddesses were very angry with us.

“What if I anger the goddesses?” I asked.

Jundro stiffened beside me. “You are the
only
person in all of Tarak who the goddesses are not angry with.”

I almost smiled at his jest.

The seriousness in his face stopped me.

Something heavy settled in my stomach. There was more to this meeting than I’d considered. But what lies had Blair told this poor boy, and perhaps, even the Oracle himself?

My legs trembled as I padded around the basin and settled myself on the far end of the bench.

The Oracle rose slowly, his back hunched.

Jundro hurried to his side, but the Oracle shooed him away with a wave of his hand. The boy took a step back, but didn’t go far.

To my complete horror and surprise, the Oracle struggled around the basin and knelt down before me, taking my hands in his wrinkled ones.

“No,” I cried, shaking my head in horror. “You can’t.”