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I paused, bracing myself. “What’s up?”

“It’s your sister.”

Gods, just when she’d gotten me to calm down about Orpheus she chose to bring up the only other subject guaranteed to upset me again. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for checking on her last night.”

She waved a hand. “It wasn’t a problem. By the time I got to her room, she was already asleep.”

I frowned. “That’s weird. She was pretty upset when she left. I’m surprised she was able to sleep.”

“That’s the thing. She’s been sleeping a lot lately.”

“Isn’t that pretty normal for someone who’s having problems like hers?”

“Of course, but the sleeping isn’t the issue. It’s the lack of dreams. Orpheus and I are concerned she may have permanently lost her abilities as an Oracle.”

“Why now? She hasn’t had a prophecy in months.”

“Yes, but Imbolc is coming up. As the Oracle, she’ll be expected to deliver a prophecy for the coming year. Especially with the treaty signing happening that night.”

I recalled Orpheus’s reaction earlier. “So that’s why Orpheus changed the subject so quickly earlier when Tanith asked about Maisie. He’s worried she won’t be able to deliver.”

As an Oracle, Maisie took the images from her dreams and painted them to translate the symbols into prophecy. But for several months, she’d been totally blocked. The dry spell began before she’d been kidnapped, but Orpheus and the Council were worried that after the trauma she’d endured they might never return.

Rhea nodded. “That, and he’s worried that if Tanith finds out how erratic Maisie’s been lately that she’ll delay the signing—or worse.”

“I don’t know how he’ll manage to keep Maisie’s state hidden from the Despina. It’s not like her troubles are exactly a secret.”

“Mages in our inner circle are aware of your sister’s situation but it’s not like anyone on the Council is going to run to Tanith to gossip about it. Beyond these walls, Maisie’s situation isn’t common knowledge. Orpheus is so determined for the ceremony to go off without a hitch he’s controlling all the information going out to the mage masses. The annual prophecy is the centerpiece of the entire Imbolc ceremony. He’s worried that without a positive prophecy some mages will take it as a bad omen for the peace process.”

“That’s silly,” I scoffed. “If Orpheus just explained what happened to Maisie—”

“It’s not that simple, Sabina,” she interrupted. “Some mages are having problems adjusting to the idea that the vampires are our allies. They’ll see Maisie’s lack of prophecy as further evidence that we should not trust the vampires.”

“But who wouldn’t want peace between the races?”

“It’s not that they don’t want peace. It’s that they don’t believe vampires are capable of it.” She shrugged. “Centuries of animosity aren’t easily overcome.”

“I guess that’s true. But I’m still not sure what Orpheus thinks I can do about Maisie.”

“I just don’t get it,” Rhea said, absently, almost to herself. “She used to have them all the time. Her accuracy made her one of the most powerful Oracles in the world. But ever since—” She stopped short.

I filled in the words she’d been about to say. “Ever since I came to New York.” Rhea looked ready to deny. To apologize for the truth. “Don’t bother.” I held up a hand to stop her. “We both know it’s true.”

“Regardless, I’ve done almost everything I can think to help her regain her visions.”

“Almost everything?” I frowned.

“There’s an ancient rite the Greeks used to use called ‘dream incubation.’ I mentioned it to Maisie, but she refuses to do it because it involves a tiny blood sacrifice and being given a potion to summon sleep.”

Given Maisie’s reaction to seeing a little pint of blood in my apartment, I couldn’t imagine the words “blood sacrifice” had gone over much better. “Do you really think this incubation is the key to helping her?”

“I believe so. The Greeks used it to cure all sorts of ailments—both physical and mental. Besides, it’s the only option we have left.” Rhea peeked up at me between her lashes. “Orpheus and I were hoping to convince you to speak to Maisie about it.”

I sucked down a deep breath. The air felt sharp in my lungs. On some level, I knew it was only a matter of time until I was asked to intervene more directly with the Maisie situation. Up until that point, I’d tried to stay on the periphery of the drama. It’s not that I didn’t care what happened to her. More like, I had no clue how to help her. And, frankly, my own internal conflict where Maisie was concerned held me back.

The truth, the deep-down-I’d-never-admit-this-to-anyone truth, is that I blamed myself for everything that happened in New Orleans. And Maisie served as a flesh-and-blood personification of my own failures both as her rescuer and as her sister.

It didn’t help either that while Maisie was busy fading away, everything in my life was looking up. That’s where the real guilt lies. I had an amazing partner, a great pad, my magic lessons were going well, and overall things pretty much were awesome. Sure, I had a few nagging complaints, but who didn’t? I certainly didn’t have the sort of challenges Maisie was facing. All of which added up to a massive case of survivor’s guilt on my part.

So I should have wanted to help her. To make amends, if nothing else. But something held me back, which I suspect was tied to the fact I could barely stand to be in the same room as my sister.

Still, even I wasn’t immune to the pleading look Rhea aimed at me. Plus, if I’d learned anything in the last twenty-four hours, it was that peace was not a sure thing. The cynical part of me was not shocked at all by the recent developments. That side always wondered when the other shoe would drop and we’d all wake up from this dream of peace. But the other part—the stubborn one—refused to allow a couple of stumbling blocks to ruin everything we’d worked for.

I didn’t want to contemplate the alternative. But I knew one thing: I couldn’t go back to that life of constant uncertainty and violence. I wanted—no, I needed that treaty signed so I could finally put the past behind me and relax into a safe, happy future with Adam and everyone else I cared about. So, yeah, I’d find the murderer despite my misgivings about Alexis and how Slade was being treated. And, yes, I’d do everything in my power to convince Maisie to try the dream incubation. To refuse either challenge would feel too much like surrender.

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