“It means I will come to the chamber today.”

With difficulty, Alba did manage to help the oracle to the cave. Though they set out early, before the sun had climbed the hill, by the time they reached the entrance—a priest silently observing their every laborious step—the rays were full and the heat intense. They descended into the cave gratefully.

Throughout the day, the oracle sat on the stool, offering prophecies in a voice that, while not as grand as in years past, nevertheless still filled their visitors with wonder and fear.

Mistake not your eyes for your heart, but it is no mistake to exchange your eyes for your heart.

The sweetest waters are those that cascade over the steepest slopes.

A flower may well bloom in the thick muck of pigs, but not if it is trampled beneath their hooves.

Only when the long rays of afternoon began slanting into the cave did the oracle indicate any fatigue. “Apprentice.” She motioned. “Please take my place.”

“We must be able to leave the chamber now,” Alba said as she helped the oracle rise. “I’m sure we’ve seen the last of today’s visitors. Let me bring you home to rest.”

The oracle shook her head. “Another comes for you.”

Alba took her place on the stool reluctantly. It would be unusual for any to come so late, and, in truth, for a long time, there was only the splashing of the water beneath the rocks and the slanting rays growing dimmer at the cavern opening. But just as Alba turned to suggest again their day was done, she heard a chorus of voices outside.

“Wait here,” she heard. “No. Everyone is to wait. Only we two will enter.”

The voices descended. Backlit, two men were all shadow.

“We seek the wisdom of the oracle,” said one.

“The oracle-apprentice,” said the other. “It must be her.”

“I am the oracle-apprentice.” Alba deepened her voice. “What wisdom do you seek?”

“Oracle-Apprentice,” said the second form, raising a lantern. “I want to know that all of my decisions have been wise.”

Alba hesitated. Beneath her, the waters began to stir. “Unwise, unwise…,” they hissed.

“This is too large an inquiry for the oracle,” Alba intoned. She squinted past the light, beginning to make out the men. The one holding the lantern glared at her. He was not used to being denied.

“I want to know.…” As he tried to rephrase his request, his voice twisted into a snarl.

Alba studied the man’s darkened features while he worked to find the words he needed. His face had a flatness to it, a hardened blankness. But here and there, too, along his cheeks and brow, were cracks that showed rancor and cruelty… cracks that showed a vile curdling beneath.

Alba stared at the harsh lines on his brow. At the split on his cheek. She felt a sickening wave of recognition.

Cooked cream. A crevice of cruelty. She saw it now. It had to be him.