Silver-Tongued Devil

Page 10

I couldn’t help smiling. One of my favorite things about Rhea was her straight talk. Of course, I didn’t like it so much when that laser-sharp tongue was aimed at me. “You’re right. Thanks.”
She sighed. “Speaking of Orpheus, I have to talk to you about something else you might not like.”
I paused, bracing myself. “What’s up?”
“It’s your sister.”
Gods, just when she’d gotten me to calm down about Orpheus she chose to bring up the only other subject guaranteed to upset me again. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for checking on her last night.”
She waved a hand. “It wasn’t a problem. By the time I got to her room, she was already asleep.”
I frowned. “That’s weird. She was pretty upset when she left. I’m surprised she was able to sleep.”
“That’s the thing. She’s been sleeping a lot lately.”
“Isn’t that pretty normal for someone who’s having problems like hers?”
“Of course, but the sleeping isn’t the issue. It’s the lack of dreams. Orpheus and I are concerned she may have permanently lost her abilities as an Oracle.”
“Why now? She hasn’t had a prophecy in months.”
“Yes, but Imbolc is coming up. As the Oracle, she’ll be expected to deliver a prophecy for the coming year. Especially with the treaty signing happening that night.”
I recalled Orpheus’s reaction earlier. “So that’s why Orpheus changed the subject so quickly earlier when Tanith asked about Maisie. He’s worried she won’t be able to deliver.”
As an Oracle, Maisie took the images from her dreams and painted them to translate the symbols into prophecy. But for several months, she’d been totally blocked. The dry spell began before she’d been kidnapped, but Orpheus and the Council were worried that after the trauma she’d endured they might never return.
Rhea nodded. “That, and he’s worried that if Tanith finds out how erratic Maisie’s been lately that she’ll delay the signing—or worse.”
“I don’t know how he’ll manage to keep Maisie’s state hidden from the Despina. It’s not like her troubles are exactly a secret.”
“Mages in our inner circle are aware of your sister’s situation but it’s not like anyone on the Council is going to run to Tanith to gossip about it. Beyond these walls, Maisie’s situation isn’t common knowledge. Orpheus is so determined for the ceremony to go off without a hitch he’s controlling all the information going out to the mage masses. The annual prophecy is the centerpiece of the entire Imbolc ceremony. He’s worried that without a positive prophecy some mages will take it as a bad omen for the peace process.”
“That’s silly,” I scoffed. “If Orpheus just explained what happened to Maisie—”
“It’s not that simple, Sabina,” she interrupted. “Some mages are having problems adjusting to the idea that the vampires are our allies. They’ll see Maisie’s lack of prophecy as further evidence that we should not trust the vampires.”
“But who wouldn’t want peace between the races?”
“It’s not that they don’t want peace. It’s that they don’t believe vampires are capable of it.” She shrugged. “Centuries of animosity aren’t easily overcome.”
“I guess that’s true. But I’m still not sure what Orpheus thinks I can do about Maisie.”
“I just don’t get it,” Rhea said, absently, almost to herself. “She used to have them all the time. Her accuracy made her one of the most powerful Oracles in the world. But ever since—” She stopped short.
I filled in the words she’d been about to say. “Ever since I came to New York.” Rhea looked ready to deny. To apologize for the truth. “Don’t bother.” I held up a hand to stop her. “We both know it’s true.”
“Regardless, I’ve done almost everything I can think to help her regain her visions.”
“Almost everything?” I frowned.
“There’s an ancient rite the Greeks used to use called ‘dream incubation.’ I mentioned it to Maisie, but she refuses to do it because it involves a tiny blood sacrifice and being given a potion to summon sleep.”
Given Maisie’s reaction to seeing a little pint of blood in my apartment, I couldn’t imagine the words “blood sacrifice” had gone over much better. “Do you really think this incubation is the key to helping her?”
“I believe so. The Greeks used it to cure all sorts of ailments—both physical and mental. Besides, it’s the only option we have left.” Rhea peeked up at me between her lashes. “Orpheus and I were hoping to convince you to speak to Maisie about it.”
I sucked down a deep breath. The air felt sharp in my lungs. On some level, I knew it was only a matter of time until I was asked to intervene more directly with the Maisie situation. Up until that point, I’d tried to stay on the periphery of the drama. It’s not that I didn’t care what happened to her. More like, I had no clue how to help her. And, frankly, my own internal conflict where Maisie was concerned held me back.
The truth, the deep-down-I’d-never-admit-this-to-anyone truth, is that I blamed myself for everything that happened in New Orleans. And Maisie served as a flesh-and-blood personification of my own failures both as her rescuer and as her sister.
It didn’t help either that while Maisie was busy fading away, everything in my life was looking up. That’s where the real guilt lies. I had an amazing partner, a great pad, my magic lessons were going well, and overall things pretty much were awesome. Sure, I had a few nagging complaints, but who didn’t? I certainly didn’t have the sort of challenges Maisie was facing. All of which added up to a massive case of survivor’s guilt on my part.
So I should have wanted to help her. To make amends, if nothing else. But something held me back, which I suspect was tied to the fact I could barely stand to be in the same room as my sister.
Still, even I wasn’t immune to the pleading look Rhea aimed at me. Plus, if I’d learned anything in the last twenty-four hours, it was that peace was not a sure thing. The cynical part of me was not shocked at all by the recent developments. That side always wondered when the other shoe would drop and we’d all wake up from this dream of peace. But the other part—the stubborn one—refused to allow a couple of stumbling blocks to ruin everything we’d worked for.
I didn’t want to contemplate the alternative. But I knew one thing: I couldn’t go back to that life of constant uncertainty and violence. I wanted—no, I needed that treaty signed so I could finally put the past behind me and relax into a safe, happy future with Adam and everyone else I cared about. So, yeah, I’d find the murderer despite my misgivings about Alexis and how Slade was being treated. And, yes, I’d do everything in my power to convince Maisie to try the dream incubation. To refuse either challenge would feel too much like surrender.
“Okay, I’ll try. But don’t get your hopes up. I doubt a simple conversation with me is going to magically fix her.”
Rhea smiled and gave me a tight hug. “Thank you! I know it won’t be easy, but I honestly believe it’ll help. Besides, if nothing else, maybe it will help you two grow close again.”
I didn’t bother arguing with her. If Rhea wanted to believe that some girl talk could erase months of resentment and pain, who was I to disillusion her?
“Now, enough woolgathering.” Rhea shook herself. “Are you ready to try some interspatial travel?”
I went still, as if sudden movement might scare off the opportunity. “Really?”
I’d been begging Rhea for months to teach me how to travel magically. But she’d insisted on going back and covering the basics of magic before we jumped into big magic. To me, it felt like taking about ten steps back after some of the magical feats I’d managed during battle, but she claimed that if I ever wanted to gain control over my powers, I’d need a stronger foundation in the fundamentals.
“I’ve been pleased with your progress lately.” She smiled proudly. “You’re ready.”
“Awesome!” I said. “I can’t wait to not have to ride the subway anymore.”
She leveled me with a look. “Not so fast, missy. What’s the first rule I taught you about magic?”
“Magic must always be used responsibly,” I said in a monotone.
“Exactly. Having the ability to wield magic is no excuse for laziness.” Her posture went schoolmarm erect as she paced before me. “You can’t just flash around willy-nilly because you’re too lazy to climb some stairs.”
“Rhea, I might be stubborn and impatient, but I think I’ve proven by now that I’m not lazy.”
She put a hand on my arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I smiled at her so she’d know I wasn’t really offended. Then I clapped my hands and rubbed them together. “Okay, what’s first?”
Thirty minutes later, she’d gone over the entire process verbally, walked me through it by flashing out and back again, and made me repeat the instructions from memory. So by the time she said I should try it myself I was impatient to get started.
“Now, let’s try something easy. Pull up an image of the hallway in your mind. Make sure it’s as detailed as possible or you may end up in some random hallway in gods-know-where.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. Breathing in slowly through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I pictured the hallway. The dove-gray walls, the Greek urns, the dark wooden floors, the window at the end of the hall.
“Can you see it?” Rhea whispered.
“Yes,” I responded on the next exhale.
“Take your time. Now imagine the scent, feel the air.”
I inhaled again, imagining the scent of the white roses I’d seen in a vase on the console table just outside the room. Drafty air from the cracked window prickled my skin.