The oracle’s head tilts, like she’s sensing my thoughts, and her lips twitch into a barely there smile. The sight makes my stomach twist.
“Rafe, don’t,” Zaid warns.
“Harm will come to her, Rafael,” the oracle continues, nodding towards a door behind her. “Come into my room, dear. Let me tell you your future. Let me tell you how to save her.”
Harm will come to her.
Harm will come to her.
I turn to look at Thea, my heart hammering in my chest, and the world narrows down to just her. She’s the one who keeps me tethered to this world, to sanity. I won’t let something happen to her. I can’t.
Before I can move, I hear Everett’s voice—low, firm, a warning. “Rafe.”
I don’t want to listen. I can’t. I need to know what the oracle is talking about. It’s the only way I can protect my little bird.
Maybe this is a trap. Maybe I’ll be trapped in this damn maze forever.
Does it even matter, if it means Thea is safe?
Zaid’s hand catches my arm with unexpected strength, pulling me back. I haven’t even realized I started walking in the oracle’s direction.
“Rafe, let it go,” he says, his tone gentle but urgent. “Trust me. Please. We’re not supposed to ask questions. Just ignore her and move on.”
I try to pull away, my teeth gritted, my pulse pounding in my ears.
She’s going to get hurt, and it’ll be all my fault.
Everett grabs my other arm, his fingers digging into my skin. “Rafe! Don’t!”
Thea steps forward—my beautiful, broken bird, free for the first time—and her voice trembles. “Rafe…I…I changed my mind. I don’t want to hear what the oracle has to say. Let’s just go.”
And for a moment, I feel the weight of her plea. It presses down on me, making it hard to breathe.
She’s scared, scared for me, and the thought makes my heart pick up speed.
But it’s not enough.
Thea’s going to die if I don’t do something.
I jerk against their hold, my pulse thrumming.
“Rafe!” Everett bellows as I tear him away with a flick of my wrist.
“Good boy,” the oracle coos, extending a ghastly pale hand for me to take.
A growl rises in my throat, and I shoot my arm out. Blood-red whips slash at the oracle as she cries and screams.
“Holy crap!” Thea screams, stumbling a few steps away, her mouth agape.
A startling silence settles over us all. All I can hear is my own erratic breathing and the pounding of my heart.
The air in the room shifts. It thickens, like a fog rolling in, suffocating and dense. It presses against my skin. The oppressive silence suddenly breaks, replaced by a low, rattling noise.
The oracle’s frail form trembles, the cane she’s been holding twisting and bending as if it’s alive. Her skin, so pale and delicate before, begins to crack and split. The jagged lines spread like a spider’s web across her face and body.
Her once serene smile turns into something far darker and sinister—her lips stretching impossibly wide, the corners of her mouth splitting like a cracked vase, exposing rows of needle-like teeth, black and gleaming.
A low growl builds in her throat.
