David had put a little Post-it flag beside that chapter in the table of contents.

He’d marked another one, too. “Oracles.” I flipped the book to the page listed, snorting with laughter when I saw the picture taking up most of the page. It was a scantily clad girl, wearing what appeared to be a large, transparent handkerchief, her head thrown back, her eyes closed. “Okay, you weren’t marking this one for the information,” I murmured, but when I turned the page, I saw that David had actually put more flags on the pages not featuring half-naked ladies.

“‘Historically, Oracles came into their power in their teen years,’” I read next to one marker. “‘The visions often did not reach full potency until the Oracle was between eighteen and twenty years of age.’”

I turned another page, and found more little paper flags. “‘The original Oracles at Delphi were controlled by five men known as the “Ephors,” elected men who served as a sort of Parliament. Oracles were strictly female.’”

“Well, there you go then,” I said quietly. Unless David had a secret bigger than the debate club thing, it was looking like we could dismiss any chance of him being an Oracle.

But then another flag caught my eye. “Oracles were greatly prized commodities, and it was rumored that most of the great leaders of the world—Genghis Khan, Elizabeth I, Charlemagne—all had Oracles at their disposal.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. David wasn’t a girl, that was for sure, but I knew Paladins were connected to Charlemagne. And if Oracles were, too . . .

I reached out for the Charlemagne book, flipping it back to the page on Paladins, my eyes scanning for anything about Oracles. There was nothing, but once again, I found myself staring at the illustration of the Paladins in their fancy little uniforms. Their fancy, burgundy uniforms embroidered with gold thread in the shape of—

I grabbed the psychic book again. There, over the picture of the half-naked Oracle, was a little symbol, like a skinny figure eight, turned on its side. It was the same shape embroidered on the Paladins’ uniforms.

“Holy crap,” I muttered under my breath.

“Harper?”

Startled, I looked up from the book. Ryan was there. Standing in my doorway. And he was smiling at me.

Okay, so the smile was kind of tentative, and he seemed a little . . . wary, hovering there by the door, but still. He was here.