“Well, the Ephors have good taste, even if they are evil.” I turned in a small circle on one of the lush rugs, glancing up. The house was quiet, but people had to be here.

Bee might be here.

I’d gotten so used to my Paladin senses kicking in when they needed to that it was weird to feel so... blank. I couldn’t get a read on anything, and not for the first time, I wondered if there was some kind of magic blocking my powers. “If they’re evil, why are we here?” Ryan asked, and I had to admit it was a good question. We’d spent last semester trying to hide David from the Ephors, and now we were walking into their... house? Headquarters? For a meeting? Still, that didn’t keep me from scanning the room for objects that could be used as weapons. There were several pretty hefty candlesticks on the mantel over the enormous fireplace. Those would work.

I turned to ask David more about his vision, but he was studying one of the paintings on the wall. “Whoa,” he murmured softly, and I followed his gaze.

“Whoa,” I echoed.

The painting depicted a girl in a flowing white gown, her body floating in midair, her eyes bright and golden. On either side of her stood a man, one in armor, the other in a white robe, and kneeling all around the three of them were shadowy figures, their hands outstretched toward the girl. The paint seemed to glow, and I fought the urge to run my fingers over the canvas.

“The Oracle Speaks,” a voice said from behind us, and David, Ryan, and I jumped, then whirled around.

A man was standing there, but I had no idea where he’d come from. I hadn’t heard his footsteps approach or a door open. He was maybe forty or so, and handsome in the same old-world, expensive way the house was. Blond hair, high cheekbones, really nice suit. Like the house, power seemed to radiate from him, and I rubbed my hands up and down my arms.

But his smile was perfectly pleasant as he gestured toward the painting. “That’s what this particular work of art is called. Felt appropriate to hang here.”

“You’re an Ephor,” David said quietly, his hands clenching into fists at his side, and the man gave a slight bow.

“I am. My name is Alexander. And you are the Oracle and, I take it, you are his intrepid Paladin and Mage,” he said, nodding to me and Ryan. There was a slight lilt to his words, an accent I couldn’t quite place. “So good of you to come.”