The Woken Gods by Gwenda Bond Page B

else.”
    The lion head cocks to one side, but otherwise there’s no indication he understands. Or wants to. Until he launches back into the sky.
    “We are friends,” Oz says. “Or, if you can’t believe that, we’re not your enemies.”
    “I like your dad,” Justin adds. When Oz gives him a look, he clarifies, “Of course, not if he’s a traitor. Which it seems like he is. There’s never been anyone accused of treason who’s been cleared before…” He stops talking. “I shouldn’t say anymore, should I? I’ll just be quiet now.”
    “There’s never been anyone cleared before? Ever? In the history of the Society?” The thought makes my head swim.
    If that’s the case, I may have even less time to figure out how to get Dad back than I was planning on. Not to mention I’d rather make it out of here before darkness falls. So I start down the front ramp, and the others do too. It’s wide enough for us to walk abreast. Yes, Anzu continues to circle above.
    “But, Justin, I bet it’s not much of a pool size, is it?” Oz says. “It’s a rare charge.”
    “True,” Justin says, “only sixteen I can think of.”
    Tam sniffs. “Technicality to the rescue. You were born to be a bureaucrat, Osborne. No wonder you’re Bronson’s pet.”
    I expect Oz to counter him, but Justin does. “You mean the director’s ward. Oz is a model operative and that’s nothing to be ashamed of… not unless you’re sympathetic to traitors.”
    “I’m sympathetic to Kyra,” Tam says.
    Bree puts a hand on his arm. “We all are,” she says, “despite her keeping secrets from us.”
    I can’t come up with a word to say to that. But Oz, again, to the rescue. “Cut her some slack. Her mom was a Pythia. That’s got to be hard.”
    I stumble on the stone, and Oz catches me. His hand is warm on my elbow, and when he removes it, there’s multi-colored paint on his palm. “Sorry,” I say, “but what ?”
    “I know you didn’t know about your dad,” he says. “But they didn’t tell you about your mom?”
    “What’s a Pythia?” Bree asks, and I notice she directs it to Justin. He checks with Oz before he answers. Oz nods.
    “They were the oracles at Delphi, once upon a time,” Justin says. “Women conscripted by Apollo into divine mysteries, able to look into the future. Now the Society has Apollo’s cup and they work for us. The mother, maiden, and crone configuration is best, but two will do. That’s all we have now, since…”
    I need to sit down. But all I can do is keep walking. “Since my mom left. What does it mean?”
    Oz offers me his arm again, apparently not caring if I smear paint on the sleeve of his uniform. I take it, because we still have quite a ways to go before we reach the bottom. If the surprises keep coming at this rate, I’m bound to stumble again. I’ve already learned I have no clue who either of my parents is. And if I don’t know about them, what does that mean for me? Am I someone or no one? I honestly don’t know the answer.
    “Oz,” I prompt. “What does it mean?”
    “It means she’s probably had a hard time of it, on her own,” he says. “They do better in groups, when they can share the visions. The Pythias, they’re–”
    “Oz saw them, yesterday. I never have,” Justin puts in.
    “Then let him finish,” Tam says.
    I don’t know if Tam’s working on some problem with Justin beyond his general dislike of operatives or not, but I also couldn’t care less at the moment. What Oz is saying matters to me.
    “What were you going to say?” I ask. “Did they say anything about her? My mom?”
    Oz stares into the distance at the tops of the Houses visible over the crazy forest. “They sent me to you. They were looking out for you, because of her.”
    I gaze out over that same horizon, though I hardly see it. My thoughts are on my mom and our past. “That’s funny,” I say.
    I don’t explain what I mean. They’ll see soon enough.
    “They also refused to