“It was. Ambrosite teams split up and took the roles the familiars used to play in the fight. It wasn’t a perfect integration, but I could see how it will become so. I hope it set an example for the rest of the world.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the factions disappeared in our lifetime?” I leaned my head against the glass and breathed in the scent of warm leather and cinnamon air freshener. “Weird, too, but wonderful.”
Malcolm rested his hand on my leg, squeezing gently. “I’ll believe it when I see it. That’s not the sort of animosity that gets set aside overnight. It took me years to overcome my kneejerk reaction of assuming the worst of Nicolliens.”
“But you overcame it. That means it’s possible.”
“I overcame it in large part because of you, love. Not everyone has that advantage.” He pulled into our garage, turned the engine off, but didn’t open the door. “Very few Wardens came to this world as adults, free of those prejudices.”
“I know. But don’t you think there have to be some who are tired of the fighting?”
“I hope so.” Malcolm came around to open my door for me, something he did rarely enough that it warmed my heart when he did.
I made him shower and get into bed, something he clearly needed, then cuddled up beside him until he fell asleep. As Ruby had implied, I didn’t feel tired myself—well, I’d slept for sixteen hours, so that made sense. I eased myself out of bed, though Malcolm was deeply enough asleep I wouldn’t have woken him anyway, and went downstairs to the living room. I settled on the couch and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until I found one showing a dumb game show. I turned the volume low and let my mind wander.
My phone ringing startled me out of a dull reverie. It was Judy. “I’m tired of being patient,” she said without preamble, “and I want to know you’re all right. A badly-spelled text isn’t enough.”
“I’m all right. Almost. There’s some healing still to finish in a few days.”
“And is Viv awake?”
“Not yet.” I felt this was an optimistic thing to say. “They still don’t know what’s wrong.”
Judy sighed. “This was a disaster. Is it true it almost killed all of us?”
“I think so. At least, they told me if Viv hadn’t done what she did, the field would have engulfed the store.”
“And Mr. Wallach is dead. I’m so glad he didn’t spread the news around about what he intended. Imagine the whole magical world demoralized today instead of just us.”
I hadn’t felt demoralized until just then, what with my personal tragedy and my worries about Viv, but now I felt sick and weary. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Really? I haven’t been able to think of anything else. That was our best chance at stopping the invaders, and now it’s back to fighting a defensive war.” Her voice was almost plaintive.
I rolled onto my side and hugged a pillow to my chest. “Now I feel tons better, thanks.”
“Sorry.” Judy sighed again. “Father’s been on the phone all morning, organizing training sessions. He and Parish have been working on new fighting strategies that incorporate Ambrosite and Nicollien tactics. He…Helena, it’s weird to say this about my own father, but he seems happy for the first time in years. Like he secretly wanted this to happen, except I know that’s not true.”
“It has to be a burden lifted, don’t you think? I mean, being angry all the time…that can’t be healthy for anyone.”
“That’s what I think. He and Mike had a long talk late last night after I got back from the node. They might actually end up friends. Is that bizarre, or what?”
“I hope the rest of the world figures out how much better it is without the factionalism. We need that kind of boost.”
“Right. Even if nobody knows how close we came to ending the Long War.”
I examined my bandaged hand and wondered how I was going to get a shower. “Lucia sounded like everything hadn’t gone well at Palembang. Do you know anything about that?”
Judy sighed. “It was what Mike and Father were talking about—how the invaders kept popping up and then disappearing. It’s something the Nicolliens used to train familiars to do. So our teams were successful because every group had someone who could predict where the invaders would appear. But the Nicolliens from other parts of the world were useless without their familiars. And the Ambrosites, not ours, the other ones, mocked the Nicolliens like it was all a game, even though they were inefficient too. Mike and Father were both furious about it.”
“I wonder if Lucia is going to rip into them. The others, I mean. Now that she has proof that Nicolliens and Ambrosites can work together and are more effective when they do.”
“I hope she does. Are you coming in tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I feel fine, except for only having one hand for a few days.”
“Good. I was going to visit Viv later today, see if I could talk Jeremiah into going home for some real sleep.”
I felt slightly guilty that that hadn’t occurred to me. “Good idea. Maybe I—”
“Stay home and rest, Helena. I’ll call if anything changes.” Judy hung up before I could argue with her.
I turned off the television and lay back on the couch. My mind still felt scrambled, as if everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was disconnected from everything else. It seemed impossible that this time yesterday I’d been worried about the fighters going to Palembang and been completely unaware of what waited in my future. But I didn’t want to rest. I wanted to do something. Sure, Wallach’s plan had failed, but that didn’t mean it was time to give up. The problem was I didn’t have any idea what I could do short of talking to the oracle, and I’d have to go to the store for that. I wasn’t sure driving was a great idea.
On the other hand…I’d communicated with the oracle when I wasn’t in its space, and there was no reason I couldn’t try that. And even if I didn’t succeed, I might manage to calm my fevered brain.
I sat up and rearranged the pillows, then lay back with my hands crossed over my stomach and closed my eyes. It had been an unusually hot day, and the air conditioning was running, a distant purring sound that became louder when I focused on it. I breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth, and listened to the purr. Aside from that, the house was quiet.
I became aware of the thrumming of blood in my ears, a lower sound than the air conditioning. My bare feet rubbed against the couch’s suede upholstery, soft and relaxing. I breathed in again and smelled the woody scent of the diffuser on the mantel, faint because it needed to be changed—but thinking about it was a distraction. I focused instead on the feel of the air brushing my face, how my skin tingled with awareness.
Again I felt as if I were sinking into thick, welcoming foam that enveloped me in its warmth and softness. I let my mind wander, not thinking of anything in particular, just waiting for the oracle to speak through me if it wanted to.
My memory touched on a recent augury, nothing special, one of hundreds of auguries I’d performed over the past almost three years. The book had been missing its dust jacket, and its cover was bright cranberry red, the color of my favorite dress. I recalled thinking that at the time, commenting on it to the oracle, who had been paying attention for no reason I could remember.