“A thief?” A man’s voice sounded from the doorway. I spun around to see a figure who looked remarkably like the Druid, leaning against the doorframe, his expression amused as he watched the play-fighting continue. “Say it isn’t true, Draven—have you been taking things from Elissa again?”
The boy looked up, smiling broadly at the man. “Only because she wouldn’t play with me!” the young boy retorted, as if his argument was perfectly fair.
The Oracle and the man looked at one another knowingly.
“I think you should apologize, and return what you’ve taken,” the man replied, coming over to sit on the bed. The boy heaved himself against the man’s back, still clutching the notebook.
“But Father, then she’ll keep writing, and she won’t come outside!” he complained dramatically.
“Have you even asked me yet?” teased the Oracle.
The boy stopped his theatrics and turned to the Oracle, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.
“Will you come outside?” he asked.
“If you give me back my diary, yes.” She smiled.
The boy hastily shoved the book back into her waiting hands, and jumped down from the bed.
“The apology?” his father prompted, holding him back from running out of the room.
“Sorry, Elissa,” the boy called out, already halfway through the door. The Oracle got up to follow him, doing her best to neaten the rumpled sheets. The man clasped her hand as she went to follow the boy.
“Are you happy here, Elissa?” the man asked, the amusement gone from his face as he looked up at her from the bed with a searching gaze.
“You know I am,” the Oracle replied softly. “Happier than I can ever remember being.”
The man nodded, satisfied.
“Good. Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he replied.
The Oracle shook her head.
“There’s nothing that I want for, Almus.”
Almus. The Druid’s father. I recalled the name from the diary Serena was reading. I stared at the now empty doorway in astonishment. Was that small boy really the Druid—and his name was Draven? I looked around, and at the dress of the Oracle and Almus, both looking like they were in an eighteenth-century costume drama…. the Druid must be centuries old. What had happened to the Oracle, Elissa? Why was she no longer in the house? Had she met the same fate as the Druid’s father, or perhaps worse, been captured by Azazel?
The Oracle left the room, blushing slightly as she left. I could tell there was something between the two of them—not a fully developed romantic relationship, not yet, but there was certainly one developing.
Before I could give it more thought, my headache returned, and I knew it was time for me to move on.
The next vision took me outdoors, standing alone in the middle of a large garden. I turned around to see the façade of the plantation house. I must have been at the front entrance, where none of us had explored yet. I could see the grandeur of the building in its fullness here—the classic columns that ran the height of the building, and the porch that ran its length, shaded by large magnolia trees. There was also a second-floor balcony I hadn’t realized existed, backing onto the front rooms of the house. Once again, due to the pristine condition of the plaster and stone, I figured I must be in the past—no doubt most of the porch would be rotten and crumbling now like the rest of the interior.
I looked around, trying to work out what I was supposed to be seeing. I was starting to understand that each vision held a clue of some kind—leading to what, I wasn’t quite sure, but there was a definite message and order to the visions I’d been receiving.
No one was around, and I started to walk up to the porch, wondering if I was meant to go inside the house. As soon as my foot touched the first step up to the main door, I turned back around. There was still nothing to see, but my eyes were drawn back to the tree I’d first been standing by.
There wasn’t anything to distinguish it from the others that surrounded the house, except that its boughs seemed to reach a little wider than most. It was in full bloom, its pale pink flower petals covering the grass where it grew as well as its branches. I started to make my way back, noticing for the first time there was a faint breeze in the air, sending some of the petals scattering and dancing toward me.
When I reached its trunk, I placed my hand on the bark of one of the branches. The tree was warm, probably from the sun. I removed my hand, picking up one of the petals that had flown onto my chest. I studied it, but it seemed ordinary. I dropped the petal, wondering why on earth I was being shown a tree. I was absolutely certain this was what I was meant to be seeing…but I just didn’t understand why.