Chapter 27 #2
“The first time, you died with Josiah’s hands around your throat, and you looked so old.” 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 to think.
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. “Really enthusiastic.”
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’t survive in any of my visions. As we all know, the future’s not set in stone, but…”
“But what you saw isn’t a good sign for my longevity,” Gwen finished for her. “I get it. And I appreciate the warning, Tilda.”
Before Gwen’s arrival, none of the oracles had shared the contents of their prophecies or what they’d learned about their captors. Now they did, typically via whispered late-night conversations conducted in the farthest corner of the room, and those conversations had clarified quite a lot.
From what the captives had pieced together, fae conspirators and common human insurrectionists had, in fact, jointly arranged for the zombies to escape and manufactured evidence pinning the blame on demons.
Exactly as Gwen’s visions had indicated.
But then—in a turn of events so unlikely that not a single captive oracle had foreseen the possibility—Max, Edie, and various other Zone residents had stymied the conspirators’ plot.
“Holy fuck, that fae asshole was beyond pissed when he found out,” Corey had whispered during the group’s discussion of the breach, prompting a round of schadenfreude-laden snickers.
Unfortunately, though, one failed scheme hadn’t sapped the conspirators’ determination.
In recent visions, some of the kidnapped seers had spotted wisps of a new plan.
A mass-casualty event at a parade, to be blamed on a witch-werewolf alliance and followed by the same catastrophic war Gwen and her friends had tried so hard to prevent.
To her vast relief, those recent visions had simply confirmed Josiah’s plans rather than helping to hone them—and given the captives’ rapidly weakening power, the likelihood of real prophetic assistance to their kidnappers diminished daily.
But if that changed, and what they foresaw would hasten the apocalypse, they’d all vowed to keep their visions private.
Even if denying Josiah might cost them everything.
“The dog’s teeth…” Matilda shuddered, still fixated on Gwen’s possible grisly fate. “You would not believe—”
Just then, thankfully, a guard rounded the corner and returned a dazed-looking, bloody-nosed Harry to his cubicle before gesturing impatiently at Timon.
Matilda went to fetch some water for Harry while Gwen absently watched Timon and the guard leave, her brain teeming with panic and half-baked escape plans. And only a minute after their oversized room’s door closed behind poor Timon, it opened again to admit Marlee Blacke.
The demon didn’t appear to have an oracle in tow. And Josiah was occupied by his daily session with Timon, so what was she doing here?
Marlee exchanged a few words with the two guards at the door. Then, to Gwen’s shock, she walked directly toward the cubicles. Toward Gwen.
“Holy fuck, she’s going to set you on fire,” Matilda hissed, shoving a refilled water bottle into Harry’s shaking hands. “Hide, Gwen!”
But she had nowhere to go. So when a tilt of Marlee’s head indicated the bathroom—because it was a less flammable setting for murder?—Gwen followed her into the small, dingy space while Tilda wrung her hands.
Marlee came to a stop near the sink.
“I apologize in advance for my abruptness.” Her whisper was very quiet. “But I have limited time, so let’s get the big news out of the way, shall we?”
Hugh’s mother had apologized? To a mere lowly oracle?
“The…big news?” Gwen blinked at her, startled. “Marlee, I don’t—”
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” The other female actually winked at her. “I’m not actually Marlee. This is a glamour.”
Hope lit Gwen from the inside out, and she swayed toward the demon wearing Marlee’s face. Because sure, she’d never heard Hugh sound so jocular and loose before, but—
“It’s lovely to see you again, Gwen.” The demon beamed at Gwen. “I’m Eloise Blacke. Hugh’s sister.”