Oracle's Moon by Thea Harrison

days. Clearly she was on a roll. She had just five more demesne rulers in the United States to go. Give her to the end of the month, and she would have plenty of time to piss off everybody. Probably the confessional booth she would soon call home should be in a foreign country where no one knew her name.
    Underneath her fingertips, laughter danced through Khalil’s energy. She glanced up and was startled to discover his expression was as stony as ever.
    Cuelebre said, “I do not consult with Oracles.”
    Her attention returned to the dragon’s brutal, impenetrable face. She thought, I bet you don’t. You would not let yourself become that vulnerable to a stranger.
    Cuelebre continued. “I came to find out what happened between you, Carling Severan and my First sentinel yesterday.”
    “Funny how many people want to know about that,” Grace muttered. Even though Rune had made his resignation clear yesterday morning, apparently Cuelebre was still not acknowledging it.
    Khalil said coldly, “You should have told me what you wanted when I asked why you were here, dragon. I could have told you the Oracle doesn’t remember anything from that consultation.”
    Cuelebre’s gold gaze did not waver from hers. “Is this true?”
    She sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business—it wasn’t any of the Nightkind King’s business either—but yes, that’s true. I don’t remember what happened.”
    Just as Julian had reacted, something flickered over Cuelebre’s face, only this time Grace fancied she understood a little of Cuelebre’s expression. There was a touch of weariness, perhaps, or maybe disappointment. Cuelebre’s broad shoulders might have sagged a fraction of an inch.
    Of all the challenges the Lord of the Wyr faced, he had chosen to take the time to come here and to ask her this question. She wondered if he would miss his First. She thought maybe he would. Or maybe she imagined all of it.
    Ignoring Khalil, Cuelebre gave her a curt nod and turned to go.
    Something stirred deep inside, a familiar, Powerful leviathan. Shocked, she sucked in a breath and called out, “Wait!”
    Cuelebre had reached the path. He pivoted on one heel, inhumanly fast for someone so large.
    Grace said to Khalil, “Stay with the kids for a few minutes? Please?” Her own voice sounded strange and disconnected from her.
    His eyes narrowed on her, but he said, “Very well.”
    She unlocked the screen door and walked down the porch steps toward Cuelebre.
    As she approached him, a shadowy, ancient tide welled. It came from an endless ocean that touched everything, flowed everywhere. Even though the bright morning was sunlit all around, this tide came from the dark of the Oracle’s moon.
    Part of her remained astonished. She had been taught that the Oracle’s Power was something so deep, they must access it from the recesses of the Earth. The most ancient traditions from Delphi held that the Oracle must speak from a temple in a cavern. Of the seven Elder Races gods, Nadir was the Oracle’s goddess, the goddess of the depths. Grace had never heard of the Power rising, uncalled, in the full light of day.
    The tide filled her up, covered her eyes, spilled out of her mouth. She heard words and knew she was talking, but she could not focus on what she said, because someone else was speaking quietly. That quiet voice grew in strength until it became a gigantic noise, like the roar from an invading army.
    “Nevertheless, the question remains unanswered. Do the stars feel pain? When the sun flares to its death, will it do so in agony? We must choose to believe it will, for the Light is a creature just as is the Dark.… It is impossible for those living to look upon me and not to speak of the nature of evil, for the living cannot grasp the true meaning of who I am. Lord Death himself has forgotten that he is but a fraction of the whole, for I am not form but Form, a prime indivisible. All these things were set in motion at the beginning,