“The sentries, where did they come from?” Benedict persisted. I nudged him, wondering why my son was being so impertinent, and so desperate to get to this part of the story.
“The sentries,” the Oracle replied with a world-weary sigh, “are the result of humans who had become ‘infected’ by the original ghouls. The ghouls created their slaves to resemble their own powers and abilities, so they could create a species stronger than humans they could borrow mental power from. The sentries are hybrids, and share many skills of the original ghouls—things like long-sight, mind reading, and the ability to take ‘mind matter’ and turn it into something else—I believe you call these barriers?”
Tejus and Ash nodded silently.
“I didn’t realize the ghouls had all of those abilities,” my father cut in, his voice hoarse.
“The originals did. That is how they are able to take on the shape of the shadow—it is their own version of a barrier, a way to hide themselves. Of course, all these original ghouls took their power from their master in order to wake from the stones. Once he died, their powers left them, as I’m sure you saw.”
“Hang on a second.” Hazel held out her hand for us all to stop. “What you’re actually saying is that—”
Oh God. Poor Hazel! I saw her slowly start to register what the Oracle was actually saying.
“Sentries are part ghoul!” Benedict cried gleefully.
“Hazel!” I exclaimed, before I could stop myself.
Oh, God.
My daughter glared at the Oracle.
“I-I don’t believe you,” she stammered.
“I’m sorry that you do not like it,” the Oracle replied gently, “but it is the truth.”
“Eeek!” Benedict made a silly, high-pitched noise that I assumed was meant to resemble a ghoul’s cry and ran around the fire to escape the wrath of his sister.
“Benedict, I’m going to drown you in the ocean,” she snapped furiously.
“Enough, Benedict!” my father and Caleb demanded simultaneously. He stopped instantly, and came back to stand beside me.
“You are in trouble when we get home,” I snapped at him.
Tejus tried to comfort Hazel, but she seemed to be in a mild form of shock, just looking at the Oracle, then back at Tejus and Ash. She didn’t say another word out loud, but just kept mouthing ‘ghoul’ as if trying to get used to the term. Oh, dear. I felt like we’d be having a lot of discussions about nature over nurture in the coming weeks. My heart went out to her. I had to admit, it was a difficult thing to accept—that my daughter had become part ghoul was a shock to us all. Of course, I would always love her, even if she started to hanker for digestive organs, but I doubted that it would come to that. If Tejus, Ash and the lovely girl Jenney were anything to go by, being a sentry was an accolade, not a curse.
“I want to ask about the stones again,” my father interrupted. “How did you and your father create them? The jinn of The Shade have lost this ability.”
Queen Nuriya tilted her head in curiosity when the Oracle began to explain.
“The stones are created from the flowers the Hawk children delivered to you—they are a special breed that used to be popular with my kind for their energy. The flowers are used to crystallize them into a shell.”
“And you are still able to accomplish this?” he questioned.
“I am,” the Oracle agreed, “but please don’t ask me what you are going to ask. I can see that you are hesitant to ask anyway—you still do not trust me. But I do not wish to return with you to The Shade. I cannot see my future if I do, and that frightens me.”
“We need to learn from you,” Queen Nuriya replied softly.
The Oracle lowered her head, and closed her eyes.
“Please,” my father said. “There is a lot we could learn from one another. A lot of skills that the jinn have lost could be re-learned, and be of use to us in our line of work.”
“I will need to think about it, but perhaps…perhaps it will be possible for a short while. I’ve never been anywhere but here. To visit a new dimension, and to speak with people—well, perhaps that would do me some good.”
My father looked somewhat pleased, but mostly still wary. I knew that he and my mother, and the rest of the jinn, would be keeping a close eye on the Oracle if she did decide to return with us. We’d already had more than our fair share of Ancient trouble, enough to last ten lifetimes.
But perhaps, I reminded myself, looking at my daughter, who still appeared a little pale, we shouldn’t be so quick to judge the species, but rather to trust the individual.