THE ORACLE STONE

Talli Morgan

Description

Some legends never die.

Jekku Aj'ere can see everything from the start of time to the end, and it's an agonizing curse. His only chance to bargain for freedom is to find the Oracle Stone, a magic artifact that was split into four pieces and hidden centuries ago.

Lilya Noor wants to forget her past and be immortal, so she agrees to a blood oath that will grant her eternal life if she delivers the Oracle Stone to her Master of Magic. Failure is not an option, but what if the stone offers a better deal than simple immortality?

Vaeltaja Ievisin has one chance for redemption: the Second Savior. Presenting the Savior and the lost Oracle Stone to his gods will end his banishment, but the Savior isn't at all what Taja expected, and neither is the stone. And how much is forgiveness worth, anyway, when the gods are never satisfied?

There are higher powers at play, and Jekku, Lilya, and Taja must pull themselves together or risk losing their magic and their lives to the vengeful spirits trapped in the stone. But it's hard to prevent a magical catastrophe when you can't trust anyone, including yourself, and certainly not the gods.

Sujets

• Fantastique
• Epic Fantasy
• LBTQ+
• Young Adult Fiction
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: Talli L. Morgan Books
• Date de parution: 19 juillet 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781087907499
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

THE ORACLE STONE
THE ORACLE STONE

TALLI L. MORGAN


TLM Books
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 by Talli L. Morgan / A.M. Callari
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
Cover background via Unsplash
Cover design by Talli L. Morgan
 
First Printing, 2021
Dedication
For Florence.
PART I
1
JEKKU
THE MESSAGE CAME in the form of a finger bone tied to the leg of a crow. The magic-made bird woke Jekku out of a dead sleep; at the haunting sound of the brittle bone clattering on the wood floor, he jolted awake as if he’d been shocked. That sound — nightmares flashed through his sleep-clouded mind, horrible memories of that hollow noise, of the clatter of ancient bones scattered over a polished table in a dark, dark room. It took Jekku a second to realize that what he was seeing was real, that Firune’s magic-conjured pet was really here in front of him, that the sorcerer had found him and this was not a nightmare.
Well, it most certainly was a nightmare. But to his horror, it was one that was entirely real.
No. Jekku stared at the bird, blinking, willing it to disappear and show him that it was merely a figment of his imagination, a leftover illusion from a dream. The crow stared back, beak parted, dark eyes shining in the dim orange light from the lantern by the window. It lifted one foot, striking the bone against the floor again.
Please, no. Jekku’s heart started to race, stirring up the fear he’d gradually learned to tamp down over the past two years. Two years, five months, and eighteen days, to be exact. He had marked every single one of them on the yellowed pages of an old book that mocked him with its consistency. Every day he woke up in the same place as yesterday, he drew a line.
Tomorrow, he would have to start a new page.
It was so perfectly, characteristically cruel of Firune to do this, to send this message just after Jekku had settled in. Just when he’d gotten comfortable. When he’d made himself a part of this place, had made friends and grown to care for them and had even fallen in love. Stupid, all of it. Jekku should never have let himself get that close to anyone, not so long as he knew Firune was still on his trail.
It was just… he really thought that Firune had finally let him go. He had run away from Gallien’s Peak almost three years ago; Firune surely had to quit at some point. But shame on Jekku for daring to hope for that. Shame on him for underestimating the sorcerer’s persistence.
It was never going to end, was it?
This was not the life Jekku had imagined. Gallien’s Peak was supposed to be a breakthrough, his claim to a spot in history. But this never-ending cat-and-mouse chase that had Jekku wandering all over this side of Doweth, desperate to escape the all-seeing eye of Firune’s crow, was the price Jekku paid for arrogant mistakes. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it sure as hell was what he deserved.
Jekku turned his head over his shoulder, heart sinking. Beside him, Leo was still sound asleep, lightly snoring. In a few hours, he would wake with the sun to attend dawn prayers with the rest of the monks. By then, Jekku would be long gone. He could not bear to say this particular goodbye.
Gods, he didn’t want to do this. Jekku would miss this place and its hospitality and the boundless kindness of the monks, but Leo… Leo was the hardest part. Jekku knew, somewhere in his heart, that he was always going to have to do this, but now as the moment finally arrived, he couldn’t imagine tearing himself from the comfort of this bed, from the arms of the boy he’d woken up next to every morning for the past two years. When the sun rose, Leo would wake up to find the other side of the bed cold and empty. He might ask around all morning, trying to figure out where Jekku had gone. How long would he wait? How long would he hope Jekku would be back soon? How long would it take him to realize and accept that Jekku never would?
The crow made a quiet chirp and fluttered its wings. Jekku shushed it, swatting his hand at the bird, but it dissolved into smoke at his touch and reappeared a few feet away. It cocked its head and made another noise that sounded annoyingly like a cackle.
“You won’t win,” Jekku said, as if Firune could hear him through the bird. Maybe he could, as far as Jekku knew. “I’ll play this game as long as I have to.”
In response, the bird stomped its foot on the floor again, rattling the bone tied to its leg. Jekku winced; he would remember that sound until his death.
He reached for the bird, and this time it didn’t leap away. It let him grab the bone from its leg, and then looked smug when Jekku instantly dropped it. His stomach lurched at the dry feel of it in his hand, conjuring more flashes of those four years in the dark. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was not there anymore. Gallien’s Peak was behind him. He would never be Firune’s prisoner again.
Jekku looked at the crow. It stared back at him, black eyes gleaming. His heart sank lower and lower as it settled in: this was real, Firune had really found him, and he had to leave. Again.
In the months between leaving Gallien’s Peak and finding the monastery, Jekku had wandered and hopped from town to town mostly because he wanted to. He was restless, desperate for something to keep him occupied so he wouldn’t get lost in his mind. The crow followed him, showing up without fail each time Jekku decided to stay anywhere more than one night, but until he had found the monastery, Jekku hadn’t really wanted to stay somewhere. Those other places were always going to be temporary; a blink of a town, a maze of unfamiliar streets to explore, a tavern where he could forget his name, a bed that wasn’t his. When the crow had appeared each of those times, Jekku had almost been relieved. It was an excuse to keep going, to keep running, and for a time, he enjoyed the game of it. What new place and new people would he discover this time?
But then he’d found the monastery. He’d found family , one that didn’t care how he’d found his way to their door and did not judge him for the past he wouldn’t talk about. In the span of mere weeks, Jekku had remembered what it was like to matter to someone, and he had grown used to that far too easily.
Two and a half years was the longest Firune had ever let him linger in one place. And Jekku certainly didn’t believe it was because Firune couldn’t find him. No, Firune was playing with him, making him think he was safe, giving him time to let his guard down.
Jekku couldn’t believe he’d let himself fall for that.
It wasn’t a chase to Firune, it was a game, one that he knew he would win. He never had to worry about Jekku escaping him for good, because Firune and Jekku both knew he couldn’t. This would go on as long as Jekku knew where to find something Firune desperately wanted.
And as much as this was going to hurt, Jekku refused to fold. If this was the way it had to be, then it was what it was. Nothing would ever make Jekku give Firune what he wanted. He refused to be Firune’s servant any more than he already had been.
Jekku got up from the pallet, careful not to move too much, and silently packed up the few things he owned. They amounted to a bundle of clothes, his old cloak, and a small knife that may or may not do him any good. He left the notebook and everything it represented, because he swore now that he would never let himself stay anywhere ever again. It wasn’t worth the pain of leaving. He was done getting attached only to be torn away.
He buttoned his cloak, slung the packed bag over his shoulder, and then looked down at Leo, who slept on obliviously.
Gods above, Jekku did not want to do this.
He knelt down and gently smoothed Leo’s blond hair back from his forehead. He closed his eyes, silently begging Leo to forgive him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and kissed his forehead. Then, quieter, “Don’t forget that I loved you.”
There were a number of reasons Jekku had said it like that instead of a simple I love you that wasn’t necessarily true. It was complicated. What was he supposed to say to someone he had absolutely fallen head over heels for, only for it to get rocky and kind of exhausting after a while?
He guessed it didn’t matter now. Whatever had caused their recent iciness with each other was irrelevant, because Jekku was about to leave and he would never see Leo again. And maybe that was for the best.
Jekku stood up and went to the door, moving over the faded rugs with silent steps. If he looked back, he might not move forward. He just had to get out to the hall, then downstairs, then outside with the doors shut behind him, and then it would be real and this place would be behind him and he could forget all about it.
He slipped out of the room, softly shutting the door on almost three years of home , and escaped down the hall.
He had barely made it to the end of the corridor when he heard his name, and froze.
You hate me, don’t you? he thought at the stained-glass image of the goddess Phometia before him. You had to make this harder, didn’t you?
Jekku reluctantly turned around to face Leo.
“It’s Firune, isn’t it?” He stood a short distance down the hall, as if hesitant to move any closer. As if he thought Jekku would just take off running if he moved too quickly. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, his hair a ruffled mess, and he had his cloak draped over his arm. “How long will he keep this up, Jekku?”
“As long as it takes,” Jekku said, hoping the cloak did not mean Leo intended to follow him.
Leo came toward him, and Jekku noticed he was also clutching the journal of tallies. “So, what? You keep repeating this cycle? You find a new place to live and count down the days until he finds you again?” He waved the notebook, pages flapping. “Just when you start to get comfortable, you run away