Twenty-two

The inside of the Sibyl’s audience chamber wasn’t what Eli expected. The room was beneath the ground, a separate basement, and it reminded him of the inside of a cave. The walls were smooth stone and the steps down to it were narrow and not well lit. The light for the stairs came from the grate at the bottom of them, where water flowed, a stream that gushed from an opening in the stone on one side and disappeared into the stone on the other.

The air felt cool and damp. The benches, arrayed before a strange sort of seat, were made of rough looking black stone, but the seat itself was a mostly red geode of some sort.

“That doesn’t look… comfortable.” Eli glanced around the room taking in the dimness, the closeness, the flickering of the light coming from the small silver braziers set in the corners, and a small smoking incense ball dangling from a silver chain in a corner.

“The room isn’t meant for comfort.” Bas gave him an amused look and waved him all the way in. “Make some room. The Bathim need to come in as well.”

With the four stone creatures the room felt suffocatingly small, and the smoke made him antsy.

The creatures, however, dipped their heads and touched the walls and seats reverentially.

“I think they approve.”

“Can we do what we need to do and get out of here? This room…” 

Bas laughed and nodded, “Sibbi likes it, the first time she came down to inspect it, with the braziers lit and everything in its place she sat on her seat and sang, it took hours for the Sibyl to decide she was ready to leave.”

“There is nothing so lovely as a contented Sibyl.” One of the creatures spoke in a woman’s voice as it knelt next to the red seat and pressed its head to it.

“Everything in this chamber has been carefully chosen, cleaned, and given intent by the Sibyl. In this place, even the air is peeling away the crust of negative energy around you and it can feel uncomfortable to have the equivalent of a chemical peel done to your soul.”

“Before you enter an audience with the Sibyl you must wash in pure water, and then herb water, you must wash in smoke and light. You must pray for three days and fast. She is holy and her words are sacred. Such words should fall on ears that are clean and open. You must be made ready,” a creature that was stroking the wall recited.

“I wash them in smoke, and she clears them with salt water.” Bas smiled faintly and glanced at him, “The rites have changed over the centuries. Even if they hadn't, my sister chooses to do things differently and there has been no one to tell her she can’t. No one can intimidate her into obedience, she’s been burned, beaten, and stabbed, and she isn’t afraid of death. The Sibyl doesn’t break and she only bends when she wishes to. Her health is fragile, but she is strong.”

The witch watched the creatures with a look of sympathy or pity on his face. “Let them get settled in the room for a moment before we ask them what they know of reaching through dreams, Eli. When I found my sister and I sat at her bedside, I felt like this. It’s an ache for connection.”

Eli shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he waited. The air seemed to shimmer and he decided to take a seat. Somehow he felt more solid and steady almost immediately. The weight of their situation felt lighter. He glanced at Bas who was smiling smugly.

“What?”

“There weren’t supposed to be seats in here but she insisted on it. She knew exactly what she wanted to keep people from feeling too uncomfortable here with her.”

“There is a purpose to the preparations, your Grace! Please respect the customs and rites of the Sibyl!”

The oddly accented voice sounded just this side of frantic and Eli sat up straighter, “Did they? Whoever ‘your Grace’ was, did they respect the rites?”

A stream of angry words in a language he didn’t understand come from the creature.

Bas rubbed his face, “No. It was a King and he had no respect for the rites or for the Sibyl. He called her a foriegn w***e.”

“What language was that?”

“German, but an older dialect. Father made me learn a handful of languages. German, French, Italian, classical Greek, and Latin. I wanted to learn Spanish instead of Greek but he insisted you can get by with Italian and Greek was important. I suspect the Bathim remember things from the ancient Sibyls.”

“If the rites are important, should Genevieve be making people-”

The laughter that poured out of Bas didn’t sound right in the stone room and the hair on the back of Eli’s neck rose. The witch sighed and wiped at his eyes, “I suppose we could give people the choice to perform the rites so that they feel more comfortable in her presence here. I don’t know how that Sibyl handled a King’s disrespect but I know Sibbi wouldn’t have tolerated it.”

“The Sibyl speaks the truth, it is perception that varies.” The Bathim sounded smug as it spoke in a woman’s lilting voice.

“I’ve heard Sibbi say that before. I’m not sure that she’s ever tried to mislead someone, though I know she’s been tempted.”

“Our Sibyl would have sent him running out of the room, the way she did with Harm.”

Bas grinned, “She might have, but that could have ended poorly in some situations. If our Alpha wasn’t as patient as he is, or as thoughtful…” He noticed the way the Bathim were all focused on him, “Sibbi says he’s ‘measured and just’, and I’ve never met a man I trust and respect more. That’s why she chose to serve and to become the Sibyl of Germain. This pack strives to give her safety and peace, they look after her health. 

“It upsets her that some of her freedoms have been limited. She can’t drive anymore. Father said she wasn’t permitted but after he died… I thought it would be fine as long as she didn’t listen to music while she drove, but… The Sibyl heard something that she needed to speak about and Sibbi nearly drove into a pole. She had and lost the same argument with the Alpha she had with our Father.”

“You have a couple of incidents at the wheel and they get so upset.” Genevieve’s amused but slightly huffy voice came out of one of the creature’s mouths.

Eli wanted to laugh. 

“We should begin.” Bas took a deep breath and moved to sit on his sister’s seat. “Lie down on the bench, Eli and let them speak.”

As he lay down the stone creatures took up positions flanking Bas. The room was silent except for the sound of water and the smoky air seemed to shimmer above him. 

A lilting voice spoke softly, “Can you feel me, brother? At the edge of dream? Can you hear me?”

The slight sadness of the voice made his heart ache. 

“You want to try to feel Grace, Eli. As you fall asleep, think of her and try to hold your connection as if it were a thread.” 

Between blinks, Eli was in the house he usually wandered through and he realized he was asleep. It startled him awake.

Bas snorted. “I need to show you how to lucid dream first and I need to be able to join you. I could see you but I could feel the barrier between us.”

“Was her brother able to feel her?” Eli frowned trying to adjust himself on the uncomfortable stone bench.

“If they had the same connection Sibbi and I have, yes. It gets difficult when we try to pull each other while we’re awake. When one of us is asleep it’s… it’s like when you push into a pack member’s mind. When we’re awake it’s like trying to pull the other out of their body.”

“It’s why you had the seizure.” 

“And why she had them when I tried so hard to reach her before we met, yes. Hers were more violent because she fought me.”

“Grace needs to be asleep too.”

“It would be easiest if she were but we can practice it until the moment is right. Close your eyes, Eli, and know that you will sleep and you will dream.” Let me in, Eli. 

Bas’ voice in his mind made him shiver. It felt different than a pack member but the same all at once.

Because I am a pack member, but I’m also a witch. The amusement was clear. Try envisioning the house, show me what the dream is.

It took a few moments but Eli brought the house into his mind’s eye. He remembered the dreams. Pacing through looking for something endlessly. This time Bas was at his side.

“Can you feel Grace? Is there any room that you feel drawn to?” The witch looked at him with golden eyes.

He began searching through the house. Finally, he stopped and shook his head, “How can I feel her? It was Genevieve that told me-”

“How did it feel when you met her? When you touched her for the first time? Draw on that feeling.”

Taking a breath, he focused on it. The electric sensation the moment he laid eyes on her and caught a whiff of her scent. He’d touched her back and felt it again. Eli opened his eyes and she was there in front of him for the briefest of moments. The frightened and confused look on her face made him reach out toward her and she vanished.

He woke with an ache in his chest.

“It was a good first try.” Bas sounded pleased. “Better than I hoped for. She must have been dozing.”

“She was afraid, Bas.” Eli sat up and put his head in his hands.

“She has good reason to be.”

“Of me!” He lifted his head and looked at the witch’s still golden eyes.

“They’re telling her bits and pieces of what you are and of what they are. Sibbi is being kept drugged and she can’t do much to help. She can’t even help herself. When they let her wake she’ll try to mitigate the damage being done but until then you have to be calm and focus yourself. Things bleed over whether you want them to or not. What do you want your mate to feel? Your strength and solidity or your fear and anger?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded and focused on how much he wanted to protect his mate. His chest ached and it took several moments for the words to make a dent. He mulled them over before he spoke.

“What do you mean Genevieve can’t help herself? Are they hurting her?”

“Remi and I will need to draw straws for who gets to tear Lloyd Fitzgerald’s head off of his body and who will have to content themselves with ripping off his arms. She has some awareness of what he’s doing, she can feel his weight-”

The stone creatures lurched to their feet making terrible sounds that made him clap his hands over his ears in self defense.

Bas held up his hand and they stopped. “My sister is a pacifist. The Sibyl does no harm. The shadow of the wolf, however, is much less concerned about that. She comes to the surface at times but never in defence of herself.”

“Only for you and for Remi.” Eli closed his eyes and tried not to think about his mate having to endure what Genevieve was enduring. “I want to try again. I need to see Grace and find out where they are. We’re going to bring them both home. Do we have to keep trying from here? Now that I know how, can it be done from anywhere?”

The witch drew a deep breath and for a moment he swayed, “The walls are thin. Grace and Justice are found together. Mercy…” Bas shuddered and the stone creatures grabbed hold of him and eased him from the stone seat. “The Sibyl calls for Mercy.”

Eli stared at him for a moment. “Is that someone’s name?”

“It may be. There are layers of meaning, I can feel it but I can’t see it clearly.” Bas took a deep breath, “In this room, the walls between my sister and I are thinner than paper. I think I can open up Remi’s connection again, at least partly, once we’ve finished. The Bathim pressed it down and she’s kept it that way to protect him.”