Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Lenna
The sun was boldly overhead as Lenna finally ripped her eyes away from the shimmering inlet.
Her legs wobbled with relief that Orla and Marlo made it onto the ship.
The gods and goddesses were truly looking out for them.
Maybe they noticed the desperation or the kindred spirit of a helping hand.
Whatever it was, Lenna felt a weight lift from her chest, and she whispered a prayer of thanks skyward.
A pang of disappointment followed immediately by guilt hit hard.
For one tiny moment, she wished she could get onto that ship, sail into the unknown, begin anew.
Skirt her responsibilities as Lady of Doortan, cast away on one last adventure.
But that wasn’t the life fate chose for her.
Lenna pushed away the awful feeling that crashed over her like a wave, and started to slowly walk back to the horses that were still tied up and waiting to be taken back home.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flutter of wings that made her heart skip a beat.
On top of the shop that Dollin had come out of, a large gargoyle statue stood, ostentatious in size compared to the narrow roof.
The statue’s wings tightly curled into its sides, mouth open, showing stone teeth frozen in a silent roar.
She gave the statue that was used to repel birds from landing on the roof a glower, the nightmares still fresh in her mind.
The wings she saw flapping by must have been some dejected gull, now looking for a new, less occupied, place to perch.
Nearing the horses, she began unfastening their ropes and tied off the extra leads to the small clips at the base of her saddle.
Once secured, Lenna hoisted herself up onto her seat, but she couldn’t help shooting a glance back at the gargoyle.
Her mind must still be playing tricks on her because for a split second, she could have sworn she saw the statue’s stone grin widen.
The returning ride to the Manor was slow with two extra horses trailing behind.
Lenna was exhausted and couldn’t wait to scurry into her bedroom and lock the door.
She didn’t want to see anyone–especially Olivera and Leon.
As she made her way slowly through the last leg of the dirt trail and through a sparse alcove, she contemplated her dream about the odd fog in the forest.
Completely lost in thought, she didn’t notice the lead of the third horse slip from the anchor point she had tied. The horse, sensing its chance to meander into the woods and find a snack, was already past the tree line by the time she realized.
“Hey!” Lenna yelled, a little louder than intended. The mare didn’t look back as it traipsed through more brambles, looking for delicious clover. “Get back here.”
Lenna scrambled off her horse, forgetting, for a second, to secure the other two. Frantically lunging back to the lead line, Lenna growled a curse under her breath as her eyes darted around for a place to tie the two horses.
Thankfully, the Doortan fields were on the other side of the trail, the wooden slats bordering the farmland easier to tie off to. She hastily secured the ropes before trudging over to the trees after the wandering horse.
She peered into the forest, pulling her coat around her as she shivered. The temperature was falling, a sure sign another summer storm was on its way.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Lenna hissed, pulling her hood up as the first fat raindrop plopped on her shoulder.
She couldn’t leave the horse to wander, gods knew where it would end up, and she didn’t want to think of the reprimanding she would get from Leon if one of the expensive horses, plus two servants, went missing in the same afternoon.
Slowly and awkwardly, she shuffled through the brush, trying to be quiet and not scare the loose horse into running.
She could barely see in front of her as mist started forming, ready to receive the afternoon’s rain.
Lenna wove deeper and deeper into the trees, scanning ahead of her, trying to track the horse by the hoof prints on the ground–praying she found the damned thing before the rain washed away her only source of direction.
Lenna clicked her tongue, trying to call the horse back.
As a young huntress, she had been great at tracking game, but this was all the shittiest variables with the shittiest timing for someone who let those skills rust over the decades.
She pushed a fallen tree branch out of the way, ducking under it and proceeding on.
She almost gave up when she finally heard a faint rustle.
Picking up the pace, Lenna hurried towards the noise, straining her ears to any other indications she was heading the right way.
“C’mon you damn beastie, give me some direction here,” Lenna muttered.
She came to a stop, held her breath and closed her eyes–trying desperately to confirm where she needed to go.
Another rustle–but this time it came from above her.
Probably a squirrel getting out of the way of the storm, she thought to herself, even as nerves jittered along her spine.
The forest around her seemed to billow and grow as mist built up.
Lenna pushed on, but as the woods grew thicker, her hope of finding the horse waned, and her patience thinned.
The clouds opened, dumping an icy onslaught of rain.
Thunder boomed overhead, cracking through the trees.
Lenna looked up, swearing she saw large wings above her, illuminated only for a blink by a second flash of lightning.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to calm her nerves, opened her eyes…
And gasped.
Three tendrils of mist snaked their way into the air, just as they had in her dream.
As they wove together, thrashing, fighting, curling into each other, she took a step back, almost tripping over a tree branch behind her.
The vapor and smoke knotted itself tighter and brighter, until a small orb of pure white light grew out of the fog.
The rain stopped–or at least parted–away from the unnatural sight.
“Hello, Oracle,” a gravelly voice behind her whispered.
Lenna whirled around and screeched. The gargoyle from her nightmare, no–from the harbor, leapt out of the trees and landed ten feet away, walking towards her on all fours–larger than a horse, but not by much. The beast smiled and stretched its grey wings out. Lenna squeezed her eyes shut.
Not real, not real, she chanted to herself.
But when she opened her eyes, the gargoyle remained in front of her.
The beast sat on the ground, giving her a feral grin, its spiked tail wrapping around its legs.
It was taller than Lenna, looking at her through curiously glittering pupils that were slitted like a snake.
Up close, Lenna realized the gargoyle was not actually stone, but covered in a thick, leathery grey hide.
Wide wings mimicked its skin, the thin membranes connected to the boning a soft matte shade.
She could see muscles rippling through the beast’s sides and haunches as it settled on the ground, head tilted.
The teeth were more concerning. Razor sharp grey canines came into view, and Lenna was confident those jagged fangs would be ripping her to shreds in just a few moments.
“You do speak, right? Gods–this is going to be so much harder if all you do is scream.” The gargoyle shook its head, waiting.
“You…you speak?” Lenna gasped. “Are…are you going to eat me?” She nervously held a hand to her throat.
The gargoyle laughed, the sound croaky. “Eat you? No. Gross. I don’t eat humans. I’m just here to collect you. You are the Oracle, right?”
Lenna rapidly shook her head, still in utter disbelief.
The gargoyle rolled its eyes. “You have headaches–right? See things? Probably saw something that looks like me at least once. Weird dreams you cannot explain–right?”
Lenna let out a squeak, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth.
Apparently, all the confirmation the gargoyle needed.
It huffed, mist rolling out of its maw. “It’s been a long time since I came to your land.
In mine, this is all common knowledge. You get the headaches–the visions, and you get activated once the visions start manifesting.
Then, you serve the Seven Kingdoms of Terramere, their Kings and Queens.
Well, serve someone, not positive on who at the moment,” it grumbled.
“I am not an oracle,” Lenna whispered, thinking back to the tales she was told as a child of witches and seers–oracles, who read fortunes at carnivals or brewed little love potions for the young adults who swore they needed the concoction for their first love’s tea.
Theatrics, stories of grand lands and magic and…
monsters. Like the one sitting in front of her.
“I’m just…” She paused. What exactly was she?
Lady of Doortan? Lady of a loveless marriage?
Those dreams had seemed so real but…the gargoyle couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be an oracle.
“There’s only one. Not an oracle–the Oracle.
” It stretched out its wings, tail lashing impatiently against the ground.
“You have the dreams–visions. You were activated. The last Oracle died, so the magic was passed on. It gets passed on randomly by the God of Sight. Apparently, he had a sense of humor and picked someone from the Slate Kingdom to make my day difficult.”
“But magic is not real,” Lenna said slowly, and not all the way convincedly.
“This is the Slate Kingdom, the land where magic is stifled. Where you humans are the majority species and where this,” the beast motioned to itself, “is the only version I can be here. I am much lovelier in my land where magic is in abundance.”
Lenna knitted her brows. The dreams–visions. Could this be true? The gargoyle stood very real in front of her, though she was still skeptical if this was all a hallucination. She wasn’t sure of the intentions of the gargoyle, but she was not gargoyle meat yet.
A small blessing.
The orb of light began thrumming like a heartbeat, drawing the gargoyle’s attention. “We have got to get going, not much time left before that portal starts disappearing.”
“I am not an oracle–the Oracle. And I am not going anywhere. This is my home.” Even saying the word home made her wince. This place hadn’t felt like home in decades. The gargoyle shook its head sadly, as if it felt bad for her.
“This isn’t your home. I’ve been watching you for weeks.
It’s miserable here. These beings are more monster than me–especially that balding one.
But well… We can do this the easy way where you walk through the portal with me and I explain more, or the hard way where I drag you through.
” The gargoyle picked up its front paw, inspecting the large talons at the tips.
Lenna paled. “What about the horses? I must get them back. They can’t stay out here in the storm.”
“Already back at the house. Yes–all three of them. Right after you strolled into the woods, that third horse came back with one of those skinny stable hands. He took all three with him. Oh, and no one is looking for you by the way–if that helps your decision. I think the only person who cared about you in this boringly dreadful town is on that big ship sailing gods know where. Any more questions?”
Lenna swallowed against the lump forming in her throat.
No one was coming to look for her. No one cared enough to investigate three riderless horses and no Lady of Doortan in sight.
Steeling her resolve, with a tidal wave of recklessness that overrode any lingering sense of caution, Lenna narrowed her eyes at the gargoyle. “Lead the way.”