Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(34)

The couple turned out to be a brother and sister, Don and Margie. Their mother had been deceased for many years, and their father had died of a heart attack the week before. Shocked and grieving, they hoped to say good-bye.

Grace couldn’t help but soften. She invited the couple in and called Therese, the next witch on the roster for babysitting duty. When Therese arrived, Grace took the couple out to the cavern. “I want you to understand, I can’t guarantee that your father will come,” she told them as they walked the overgrown path. “We can only try.”

“Trying means everything to us,” said Don.

They reached the back meadow where the cavern was located. The Ohio River ran along the western border of the property. Sparkling glints of blue water were visible through a tangled border of trees and underbrush.

Earlier in the summer, she had explored, briefly, trying to sell some of the riverfront acreage in order to raise some cash. The Oracle’s Power had bristled, clearly antagonistic toward the idea, but it wasn’t writing the checks for her monthly bills, so she shoved it aside and made some phone calls.

The venture quickly became too complicated to pursue with any real hope of financial return. The real estate agent she had spoken to had been blunt. Granting access rights to anyone who potentially built along the shoreline meant they would be driving past her house in order to get to their patch of land, and she would lose any hope of privacy. Also, the land had too much of a reputation for being haunted to have any wide market appeal. In the current housing slump, it was unlikely the agent could move the parcels of land at all.

The path to the cavern cut north through the meadow then veered a little east, where the land rose into a short, rocky bluff that was dotted with trees and bushes. The entrance to the cavern was set into the bluff.

When Grace was a child, she used to climb the bluff and have picnics on the squat, flat rock at the summit. The bluff was tall enough, and the land sloped downward at a steep enough angle, that she could see over the tops of the trees that grew down by the shoreline and watch the river for boats and barges.

She gave the bluff a wry glance. It was unlikely she would ever see the top again. She could probably take her time and climb up the way she climbed the stairs, using her sound leg to haul herself up, but that seemed like a useless expenditure of energy when she had so many other things that needed her attention.

She led Don and Margie across the meadow to the old doorway that had been built into the side of the bluff. The door was locked to keep exploring children out, and the key was stored in a small rusted coffee can that rested on the top of a wooden lintel.

The doorway opened to a tunnel that led down to the cavern. Grace was familiar with every inch of the property. She had played in the meadow, walked that tunnel and had been down to the cavern more times than she could count, but Don and Margie were wide-eyed and stared at everything.

Grace collected a couple of flashlights and the mask, from which the Oracle had spoken since the temple at Delphi, and that was when Margie broke down in tears. “I can’t do this,” the older woman said to her brother. “This is too much, too strange. I just can’t.”

Grace was unsurprised. It happened sometimes. People might travel from all over the world to consult with the Oracle, only to balk at the last minute. She said, “I’ll wait outside while you decide what you want to do. Just remember while you talk this over—you don’t have to try this right now. Your father just passed. You can give yourself some time and come back when you’re ready. The tunnel is quite roomy, and the cavern looks just like the ones at Mammoth Cave National Park or the cave systems in southern Indiana.”

Don said, “We read about it on the Oracle’s website, and looked at the photos.” He looked at his sister sadly. “I guess it’s all a bit much in real life.”

Niko had created a simple website in an attempt to prepare petitioners. It had a brief section on the Oracle’s history and another one on what to expect when they arrived. There was also a page that explained the ancient social contract, that while the Oracle acted in service and did not ask for payment, donations were essential for the upkeep and maintenance of the property. He had even set up a PayPal button. The website pulled in between two and three hundred dollars every six months.

Grace said again, “You don’t need to do this right now. You can come back when you’re more ready.”

She stepped outside and waited in the sunshine while Don and Margie talked. While she tried not to listen, she could still make out snatches of their conversation. It was difficult to hear their struggle, and their grief touched too close to home. She crossed her arms and scowled at the tall grass. The meadow was dotted with bright colors, mostly yellow from dandelions, but also white and purple wildflowers.

Going into the cavern was strange for people who were not used to it. The old stories told of petitioners approaching the Oracle of Delphi in awe and supplication.

But the Power had come so strongly the other morning. She could not think of a single reason why it could not do so again.

She felt along the edge of her consciousness, and there it was, nestled inside of her, deeper than gut instinct, an ancient well running through her like a dark subterranean sea. Was it really a gift from the goddess of the depths, or was it from some other strange, Powerful creature? The oldest stories her grandmother had told were a tangle of superstition and myth. The earliest Oracles had worshipped the Power and believed they spoke the words of the gods themselves. Over thousands of years, that attitude had evolved and changed, but Grace’s grandmother, and even Petra, had talked about serving the Oracle’s Power as if they were subservient to it. Without having any real experience herself, Grace had listened and accepted what they said, pretty much without question.