Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(45)

‘Come, Chloe of Phalesia.’ A sibilant voice bounced around the cavern, coming from everywhere at once. ‘Place your offering beside me and then sit with the fire of the gods between us.’

Swallowing, Chloe stepped hesitantly forward and placed the copper amulet next to the woman. Without looking down, she circled the white flame and sat on the hard stone, across from the Oracle.

Chloe looked up.

The flame danced between them, rippling across the Seer’s features so that they were hard to make out. Chloe gained an impression of surprising beauty: with startlingly green eyes, the Seer had the delicate features and noble cast to her face that Chloe had only seen before on the statues of Edra, goddess of love, fertility, and children.

‘You offer the materia of copper,’ the Oracle murmured. Reaching down without looking, she picked up the amulet and tossed it into the fire.

Chloe waited for the copper to melt, but it didn’t change at all.

‘Stare into the flame,’ the Oracle said. ‘Open your soul to the fire. Gaze and do not blink.’

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Chloe gripped her knees as she focused on the white flame. Sweat formed on her brow and her heart rate increased as if a galloping horse was trapped in her chest. Her vision narrowed as she stared until she could no longer see the Seer; she felt she was floating in a sea of darkness, and nothing existed but the pure white fire.

‘Close your eyes,’ the Oracle instructed.

Chloe closed her eyes, and the feeling of floating free from her body became so strong that she began to panic. But she fought to remain strong and banish the fear. Her breath came in short gasps.

‘The gods have accepted your offering. I now pronounce this prophecy.’

Chloe was desperate to open her eyes and see the face of the woman speaking to her as she revealed her future. Her consciousness floated in a void. She could concentrate on nothing except for the Oracle’s words.

‘You will kill a man you pity. You will desire a man you fear. You will wed a man you do not love. The gods have spoken. Open your eyes.’

Chloe opened her eyes, trembling with dread.

The fire had ebbed. The amulet in the flame was gone.

Chloe could now see the Oracle’s face.

The woman’s skin was blackened, as if the flesh had been pressed to hot iron. She had no eyes and shifted her head from side to side in the swift movements of the blind. The Oracle put her palms together in prayer. When she did, Chloe saw that her hands were withered and her fingers were like claws, with nails so long they curled back on themselves.

‘You may now go,’ she said in a rasping voice.

Chloe clambered unsteadily to her feet.

As she fled back through the cave, the words of the prophecy were burned into her mind like a brand on the hide of a beast.

You will kill a man you pity.

You will desire a man you fear.

You will wed a man you do not love.

Rather than bringing clarity to her uncertain future, Chloe felt cursed.





20


Gusts of wind came and went, ebbing and then returning in force, making constant work for the five men who crewed the twenty-foot sailing galley. Tall waves lifted the vessel up and sent it skittering down the far sides. Bursts of spray drenched the sailors, but the sun was bright and the day warm.

Dion manned the tiller, judging the approach of each wave carefully and fighting to keep the boat on course. A fresh flurry of wind pocketed the mainsail and just ahead of him Cob pulled on the rope with his calloused hands, hauling the sail closer still.

The seas were too strong for the oars but the other three crewmen – the youth Riko, the tall broken-nosed brawler Otus, and the wiry middle-aged Sal – kept themselves busy bailing water and following Cob’s instructions with the headsail.

‘Cinder Fen.’ Cob nodded to the brooding landmass dead ahead. ‘We’ll be there before sunset.’

Dion recalled his mother’s warning to stay away from Cinder Fen. But she hadn’t known about the capture of the first consul’s daughter, and it was by far the shortest course to Athos and then Ilea. Cob knew the terrain, and said that provided they found the jutting promontory affording them a camp a reasonable distance from the mountains, they would be safe. He had beached there three times before.

But wildren were always unpredictable.

As the wind freshened and came more steadily rather than in unpredictable squalls, Dion decided they were making good time. Their destination grew closer, revealing the different mountain peaks and the dark clouds hanging over them. A strip of brilliant white shore became visible.

‘Take us no closer,’ Cob instructed. ‘We’ll follow the shore from a good distance until we find the safe place.’

Suddenly Riko stood bolt upright, gripping hold of the mast as he stared out into the sea, white-faced. He shielded his eyes and scanned the water, back in the direction of their wake, his eyes roving wildly.

‘What is it?’ Sal asked.

When Riko said nothing, Cob roared, ‘Speak, boy!’

‘A—A serpent. I saw gray scales and a huge arching back.’ He turned eyes filled with terror on Cob and Dion. ‘I . . . I think I just saw a leviathan!’

‘Silex, keep us safe,’ Sal whispered.

‘Are you certain? Which way?’ Cob asked.

Riko pointed to the right of dead astern. Dion turned and stared as every man in the boat squinted at the sea.