He’d smiled after her, content. For the moment.
But today was a new day, and who knew what he’d do to her this time?
Still, she sat when he ordered her to do so. Cut into the scabbed-over wound on her palm. Prophesized for him.
His favorite wing balm would be discontinued soon, so heshould stock up in the meantime. That was the only guidance her waning power could offer.
She emerged from her fugue state to find him looming over her. His distinguished face had twisted into a petulant scowl. Nauseated and fatigued beyond words, she could only sit and stare back at him.
“My minions may do most of my work aboveground, but I still need to keep up appearances for the Council. I have no time to waste on your useless prophecies, human,” he told her, silky aggression in every hissed syllable. “You have until tomorrow to prove your value to me. Otherwise, I have no further need of you.”
That threat—her knowledge of its inevitability—was why she hadn’t been able to sleep again that morning. As Matilda had warned her earlier that week: Once Josiah began growing impatient with an oracle’s lack of power, that oracle tended not to return from their compulsory morning prophesizing session. Sooner rather than later.
Andsooner, in her case, evidently meant tomorrow.
“I intend to rid myself of other liabilities then too.” Josiah turned to the guard. “Take this one back and bring in the next.”
Other liabilities?Did he mean Corey? Or even Matilda? Because a purge of weakened seers could doom nearly any of the captives—or all of them.
Trembling with urgency and terror, she shuffled behind the guard, back to the cubicles. And as soon as he and Matilda disappeared around the corner, en route to her own session, all the other oracles descended on Gwen to check on her. Including Harry, their latest addition.
If Josiah truly did cull the oracular herd, the elderly prophet who’d arrived only two days ago was the only one almost certainto survive. The rest of them…not so much. Which meant the time for dithering was done.
Before Josiah’s arrival early the next morning, they had to escape. Somehow.
While Gwen was still mentally sorting through various ill-fated ideas, Matilda arrived back from her session. Dashing a forearm under her bloody nose, she waited with barely leashed impatience while the guard summoned Harry.
That guard was hardly out of earshot when Matilda dropped down onto Gwen’s cot and urgently whispered, “In today’s visions, I saw you die, Gwen. Multiple times. Multiple ways.”
Briefly, Gwen closed her eyes and blew out a shaky breath.
It was one thing to know she was in mortal danger. Another to hear a firsthand account of her own death. Or rather, her owndeaths.
“The first time, you died with Josiah’s hands around your throat, and you looked soold.” Matilda brightened. “Maybe that’s actually a good vision, though, if you lived long enough to turn gray? Unless—oh.” Her face fell again. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about the whole fae lifespan-suckage thing. Shit.”
Gwen had shared that confidential information about the fae with the group several nights ago, because they needed to understand the importance of de-escalating the situation—by any and all means necessary—if Josiah ever appeared poised to choke them.
“Anyway.” Clearing her own throat uncomfortably, Matilda continued. “The next time, that demon who transported us all set you on fire. Your councilor boyfriend’s mom. What’s her name again?”
“Marlee,” Gwen told the other oracle through numb lips. “Her name is Marlee Blacke.”
What a special way to go: burned alive by her lover’s mother. And if Hugh ever found out his own parent had murdered her that way…she wasn’t certain he’d survive it either.
“In the final vision, a three-headed dog tore you apart during an escape attempt.” Matilda’s entire face scrunched up. “It was…messy.”
Gwen reared back, horrified, before forcing herself tothink.
Yes, that vision of her demise was terrible too—but at least the whole escape attempt aspect was somewhat heartening. Or it would be, if Gwen had formulated a better plan than simply attacking the armed door guards en masse and hoping at least one of the oracles survived the aftermath.
“I didn’t tell Josiah about the final vision, and the truthseeker didn’t catch the omission, so they didn’t hear about a possible escape attempt.” Matilda looked pleased by that. “They got distracted when I threw up all over them.”
Gwen laid a concerned hand on her companion’s forearm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” the other woman reassured her. “I mean, I’m scared and tired, but otherwise okay. It’s just that the three-headed dog was…” Another scrunch-faced wince. “Reallyenthusiastic.”
Gwen was trying very hard not to picture that. “Was there anyone else with me during the escape attempt? Did you get any sense of how it happened?”
“I couldn’t tell. I’m so sorry.” Matilda bit her lip, sorrowful brown eyes now swimming with tears. “Gwen…you didn’tsurvive in any of my visions. As we all know, the future’s not set in stone, but…”
