The table was set, and Harry was popping a plate of pancakes into the microwave. “Go ahead and take a seat. These will be just a few seconds.”

  The table had orange juice, bacon, whipped cream, and boysenberry syrup, my favorite. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to butter me up, Mr. Harmon. You’re not trying to fix me up on a blind date again, are you?”

  Harry popped around the corner from the kitchen carrying the plate of pancakes and a look of innocent surprise. “Me? No, now why would I do that after you have squandered all my good efforts to find you someone? I have given up on you.”

  “Good.”

  He put three pancakes on my plate then sat across from me. “I just wanted to have a nice breakfast with my next-door neighbor. Doesn’t hurt to be neighborly once in a while.”

  “Uh-huh.” Something was up, but I was too hungry and tired to figure out what it was.

  Halfway through my second pancake, an unsettlingly familiar magic entered my awareness. It was the same as a few nights ago. I’d put it out of my mind, but this time there was no mistaking it. My muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. My dagger sat useless in my apartment.

  The magic drew closer. A knock sounded at the door. I jumped up to get it, not wanting Harry to face whatever magical being stood on the other side.

  Laughter drew my attention to Harry. “Don’t look such a fright. It’s just Sybil, the new neighbor. She said she’d pop by this morning.”

  Harry wasn’t setting me up with a guy, he was setting me up with the neighbor. Of course the Directorate would get dirty and involve my neighbor. This could be the end of it all right here. I didn’t want to alarm Harry. All I had to do was direct this person away from Harry’s home, even if it meant taking them to mine. I opened the door.

  “Hi! I’m Sybil, short for Sybileen. You must be Nadiya. Harry told me all about you.” The perkiest girl I’d ever seen in my life stuck her hand out toward me. She was short and wispy thin with a spiky blond pixie cut and big blue eyes that seemed to take up the entirety of the upper half of her face before her cheekbones gave way to a tiny sharp chin. “I think we actually have a mutual friend. Captain Tight Pants?”

  I shook her hand, totally confused. Captain Tight Pants was code. Alistair and I had come up with it so that if he ever needed to send me help, I would know the person came from him. It was taken from Firefly, my favorite show that Trevor had made me watch when I first met him. Fae magic danced across Sybil’s skin, as perky as its mistress, but non-threatening.

  “Don’t be rude, Nadiya. Let her in.” Harry came up behind me and opened the door wider. “So glad you could join us, Sybil.”

  Sybil skipped—freaking for real skipped—to the table and sat. I closed the door and followed. It didn’t make sense that Alistair would send her to me and not let me know, especially when he had left me a voicemail last night. The only other scenario I could think of was that he was in trouble, but if that were the case, why was Sybil eating a pancake?

  “Come on, Nadiya. I promise I don’t bite.” She patted the seat next to me. If Alistair did send her because of an emergency, she wouldn’t be so calm. I had to trust our system, trust Alistair. If she knew our code, then Alistair trusted her, and I trusted him. I sat down and resumed acting normal for Harry’s sake.

  “I know how reluctant you are to meet new people,” Harry said as he put his paper napkin back in his lap. “It took you too long to warm up to Ms. Guerrero. It’s so nice that we have a neighbor closer to your age. I didn’t want you messin’ it up by not meeting her.”

  I glared at Harry just as I would if Sybil weren’t magical. Then I put on a fake smile, the kind Harry recognized from when I tried to be sociable, and asked, “So, Sybil, where are you from?”

  “Nebraska, actually.” She proceeded to tell her fabricated life story. Harry asked her questions about her childhood. I nodded along, trying to figure this all out in my mind. She said she came to Arizona to go to massage therapy school and get out of the Midwest. Whoever she was, this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. She’d taken some real time to come up with a backstory. By the time we finished breakfast, Harry knew more about her than he did about me.

  After we cleaned up the dishes, Sybil announced that she had to get going.

  “Yeah, I’ve got to go too, Harry. Thanks for breakfast.” I gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome. And you’re welcome for introducing you to Sybil.”

  Once Sybil and I were outside, she turned to me. “So, do you want to talk at my place or yours?”

  I didn’t like letting people into my apartment, but at least there I had my dagger and a little bit of an advantage. There was no telling what she would have waiting for me inside hers. “Mine.”

  I unlocked the door and closed it behind me to give me a little head start. Before she could open it, I grabbed my dagger from the table. When she walked through the door, I twirled and pointed it at her. She put her hands palm up in front of her, both a greeting and a sign of peace in Elustria.

  “This is a void blade. If it pierces your skin, you’ll be a void forever. One move and I strike. And trust me, even using your magic, you won’t be fast enough to beat me. I’ve been doing this far longer than you.” I had no idea how long she had been doing it, but bluffing never hurt.

  Sybil’s blue eyes warmed and her smile relaxed. “I know your abilities better than you do, Nataliana. I’m the Oracle.”

  20

  The noise of Sybil’s and my entrance roused Pint from sleep, and he hovered in the entranceway to the living room, out of Sybil’s sight. There was no way this perky young woman was the Oracle who had turned my life upside down. Somehow someone had found out about Meilin’s plan. I didn’t understand what was going on, but the best way to find out was to get her talking. “The Oracle? You? I don’t think so.”

  Sybil shrugged, nothing in her body language hinting that she lied. “I’m used to that response.”

  She didn’t make any threatening movements. Her hands remained in front of her, palms up. That wouldn’t keep her from performing magic, but if she was going to hurt me, she would have by now. Alistair would know if she was telling the truth. I pulled out my phone and called him.

  “Good idea. Ask Alistair. He’ll tell you,” she said, her voice happy and unconcerned as if she didn’t have my void blade pointed at her.

  I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response.

  “Hello?” Alistair’s voice sounded in my ear.

  “Did you leave the oven on at your place?” It was one of our codes. If he said, “Yes,” it meant he was in trouble. If he said, “Yes, can you turn it off for me?” it meant endgame trouble. I prepared for either option. My ears perked, listening for any strain in his voice. Sybil had given our code, which meant she might have our other codes as well.

  Alistair laughed. I didn’t find any of this funny, and I bristled at his levity. This wasn’t a game. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m guessing you met your new neighbor.”

  All the air escaped my lungs as if I’d been punched. At this point, it should cease to surprise me that Alistair kept me in ignorance about things that directly affected my life. “You knew about this?”

  “Of course. Didn’t she give you the passphrase?” Alistair’s tone made it sound like I was being hysterical. With my dagger still pointed at Sybil, maybe I was, but she wasn’t claiming to be just anyone.

  “Yes. She says she’s the Oracle.”

  “That’s correct.” He made it sound obvious, as if the Oracle should be my age and living on Earth.

  “This is the Oracle? The one you spoke to who convinced you I’m the Dragon Fae?”

  Pint flew fully into the room. “Dragon Fae?” His raspy voice drew Sybil’s attention, and her smile grew. She looked like a kid who’d just seen a puppy. A part of me wanted to see her try to pet him.

  “One and the same,” Alistair said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was moving in next door?” Hurt entered my voice. I was still wounded from Alistair’s deception about his belief in my identity.

  “I didn’t know for sure,” he said. “All I knew was that the fae court was going to send her to you in some way.”

  “Meilin promised me that if I stopped whatever is planned by the Feast of the Dragon, I wouldn’t have to be the Dragon Fae. It sure doesn’t seem like she’s holding up her end of the deal.” I increasingly felt like even if I stopped whatever the Directorate had planned, Meilin, or worse, Queen Malev, would still reveal me to Elustria as the Dragon Fae. It shouldn’t matter. I would still do everything I could to complete my mission, but if I couldn’t trust Meilin’s word and by extension Alistair’s, I didn’t know what I could trust anymore.

  “There’s nothing for you to do until our meeting later. Speaking of which, I have to go prepare. You should talk to her. She’s nice, and all she wants is to help you. You might be surprised by her.”

  “Trust me, I’m already surprised. Seems like everything is surprising me these days, including the fact that you keep secrets from me.” Bitter, I hung up before he could respond. It was childish, but we really didn’t have anything else to say to each other. I’d been at the job since I was a kid. I was allowed a little moment of childishness.

  “Alistair cares a great deal for you,” Sybil said, her voice soft, the perkiness gone from it.

  “What do you know?” I sighed in disgust with myself and the entire situation. I couldn’t justify pointing my dagger at her any longer, so I put it away, and she lowered her hands.

  “A lot, actually. That’s kind of what this whole Oracle gig is about: knowing stuff.”

  “Hold up. Can I speak now?” Pint flew right to my shoulder. “What’s this about you being the Dragon Fae? And why didn’t you think to mention it earlier?”

  “I told you we’d talk after I had some food.” I really wanted a drink, but I couldn’t afford to show up drunk to my meeting with Alistair. “Apparently Alistair and Meilin think I’m the Dragon Fae, and if I don’t stop whatever the Directorate has planned by the Feast of the Dragon, they’re going to announce it. Oh, and this is Sybil, the Oracle. Sybil, this is Pint.”

  “Her fearsome protector,” Pint growled and then blew out a little burst of flame.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Sybil nodded her head at Pint.

  “You don’t look like an oracle,” Pint grumbled.

  “I’m getting that a lot lately.”

  “No, really, you got it wrong with this one,” Pint said. “She gets drunk way too much to be our prophesied savior. And have you seen her temper? Not very becoming in a leader. She’s hung up on a guy who is way beneath her. I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong woman. This one’s going to need more than a spit polish to get up to shape.”

  “Thanks, Pint.” I didn’t think Sybil had it right about me either, but I wasn’t that bad.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to help you out here.”

  “He has a point, though,” I said to Sybil. “I’m not the Dragon Fae.”

  “What makes you say that?” She cocked her head to the side and appeared infinitely interested in my answer, like an annoying therapist.

  “The Circle and the fae, as you well know, orchestrated everything so that I’d look like the answer to prophecy. That’s not how this works. You can’t just decide someone’s the Dragon Fae and then conspire to make it happen.” Even if I wasn’t the one targeted, I still objected to the way they manipulated prophecy. I may not be religious, but these were sacred beliefs that many of my people held to. Such manipulation disrespected and mocked those beliefs.

  Sybil pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders in a jerky motion. “Sometimes prophecy needs help along.”

  I scoffed. “Sounds like something someone with an agenda would say.”

  “And why are you so against the idea?”

  Because the idea scared me shitless, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okey-dokey. What do you want to talk about then?” She plopped down on my sofa with her back against the arm and her legs tucked under her. “You don’t have anywhere to be, and you must have questions for me. Shoot.”

  I walked toward her, Pint still resting on my shoulder. He’d normally be sleeping after a night out hunting, but he wouldn’t want to miss this new bit of excitement in our lives. “Are you here to sabotage me?”

  “No.” Sybil shook her head.

  “See, there’s no point in talking if you’re just going to lie to me.”

  “What makes you think I’m lying?” Her face scrunched up as if lying to me were the most outlandish thing she’d ever heard.

  “Your reputation hinges on me being the Dragon Fae. You know about my deal with Meilin. It’s in your interest to make sure I fail.”

  Sybil nodded slowly, looking at me with perfect understanding and what appeared to be a bit of pity. “Your life has made you cynical. That’s understandable. I have no agenda other than helping you.”

  “Bullshit. Everyone has an agenda.” I sat down on the sofa, leaning against the arm opposite her.

  Sybil conjured a little piece of meat in her hand and gestured toward Pint. The little traitor hopped from my shoulder and took the treat. “Don’t look at me like that,” Pint said when I glared at him. “You didn’t get me steaks like I asked.”

  When he had eaten that piece, Sybil conjured another one, likely from the fridge in her apartment. She pet Pint on the head and looked at me. “Alistair doesn’t have an agenda. He only wants to keep you safe.”

  For years that had been the cornerstone of my belief. Not anymore. “He wants me to be the Dragon Fae too.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He believes you’re the Dragon Fae. They’re two different things.”

  “Semantics. The result is the same.”

  “He thinks of you like a daughter, you know. I don’t know any father who would want their daughter to be the Dragon Fae.” She said it with such compassion and not a trace of defensiveness despite my bitchy attitude. Her tone more than anything gave me pause.

  When I put my petulant attitude aside, I knew Alistair loved me. That’s why all of this hurt so much. This was exactly the kind of thing I expected him to protect me from. “What exactly does the prophecy say?”

  I didn’t have to elaborate. Sybil knew what I was asking. “‘The Dragon Fae will be one of our own who is banished from her homeland, unwelcome amongst those who should welcome her most, one whose magic will be known throughout the entire world, but who will be unable to use it herself.’ It’s too broad for the Circle to have orchestrated the night you killed Bernhardt to be the fulfillment of that part of the prophecy. Meilin trusted me as the Oracle, but she still didn’t believe it then.”

  “When did she believe it?”

  Sybil’s eyes got a faraway look, and she chuckled at the memory. “After many, many hours of me convincing her.” Her eyes focused back in the present. “I can’t give you what you want, Nadiya. I can’t make you believe that you’re the fulfillment of prophecy.”

  Is that what I wanted from her? Even if I accepted what she said as truth, I couldn’t reconcile that I—flawed, imperfect creature that I was—would be the hero she expected. I didn’t work for the Circle out of a sense of heroics. I did this work because it needed to be done and I was equipped to do it. It was my duty to use my skills for the protection of sorcerers. “I’m not. Everything else was orchestrated. Deacon blew our mission on purpose. The Circle assigned him to me instead of giving me a sorcerer as a partner so it would fit the prophecy.”

  “Like I said, sometimes prophecy needs help along. You’re not the Dragon Fae because of the events the Circle orchestrated. You simply are the Dragon Fae. I saw it. My sole purpose in life is to identify the Dragon Fae and aid her. That’s it. Even if none of what happened after the night you killed Bernhardt had occurred, I would still know that you are she.”

  “How?” I asked, exasperation and desperation warring inside me.

  “Let me ask you something. Are you a sorceress?”

  “Of course.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I am one. What kind of question is that?”

  “I know you’re the Dragon Fae because you are.”

  That seemed like a non-answer. “But you just said it. I’m a sorceress, not a fae.”

  Sybil raised her finger in the air. “Ah, but you are. There is high fae blood in your line. You didn’t really think the Dragon Fae would be pure fae, did you? The Dragon Fae belongs to all the people of Elustria. She wouldn’t be accepted if she were pure fae. People would assume she had entrenched ties with the fae court. You are a mix. You had to be. It was the only way to get the right blend of magic for the prophecy to work.”

  I hated that I didn’t know enough of my origins to refute her. For all I knew, my grandparents had been fae. “And what if I succeed in protecting the Feast of the Dragon?”

  “You’ll still be the Dragon Fae. If you don’t fulfill the prophecy, then when you die, we will continue looking for the Dragon Fae and maybe the next one will be up to the task. Just because you don’t use your magic doesn’t mean you’re not a sorceress. So it is with the prophecy.”

  Sybil seemed so sure, just as Alistair did. I knew without asking him that he felt the same way. No matter what I did, they would believe. It put me at a disadvantage. There was no way for me to get out of this, to win. Whatever happened, I’d be a disappointment to Alistair. If I didn’t fulfill the prophecy, he’d be disappointed. If I tried to and failed—because really, I couldn’t be this mythical creature—he’d be disappointed. I was screwed no matter what.

  “You still have doubts,” Sybil said, markedly not asking a question.

  “So far you haven’t told me anything that the Circle and the fae court doesn’t know. You’re their pawn just like I am and just like Alistair is. Poor Deacon’s been pulled away from his life to be used as a pawn too.”

 

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