We gathered in the living room after dinner, the overhead lights dimmed to something more comfortable. Horace had claimed his usual spot on Winter's shoulder, his twelve eyes blinking in lazy sequence as he dozed. My skeleton crew was having another elaborate tea party in their custom apartment, the soft clinking of tiny porcelain providing background music to our conversation.
"So," I then immediately lost my nerve. "Um. There's something I need to tell everyone."
Winter gave me an encouraging nod from where she sat between Zane and Rook on the massive couch we'd moved in last week. Fenric perched in his preferred armchair, tablet balanced on his knee, ready to document whatever fresh disaster I was about to propose.
"I've been having dreams," my voice gained strength. "About the Oracle."
The reaction was immediate. Rook's amber eyes sharpened, his body going rigid with alertness. Zane straightened, his mismatched gaze focusing on me with laser intensity. And Fenric… was, well, Fenric.
"Absolutely not." Fenric's voice was flat, final. "Whatever you're about to suggest, the answer is no."
I blinked at him. "You don't even know what I'm going to say yet."
"You're going to propose something involving direct contact with an imprisoned entity of cosmic proportions whose consciousness is fragmented across thousands of bone shards sealed in a vault that has been hidden beneath Bureau headquarters for centuries." Fenric's fingers flew across his tablet as he spoke. "The security clearance alone would require…"
"Fenric," Winter interrupted gently. "Let him explain."
But Fenric was in full bureaucratic panic mode now, his usually perfect composure cracking around the edges. "The Vault Beneath isn't just classified, it'sforbidden. There are protocols in place…"
"Protocols that don't account for an Oracle actively reaching out," I cut in, frustration bleeding into my voice. "These aren't random dreams, Fenric. It's communication. The Oracleis trying to tell us something important about the Harbingers, about Winter's choice."
"And you want to waltz down there and have a chat?" Rook's growl made the windows rattle. "With a being powerful enough to end entire timelines?"
"Not exactly waltz, no," I ran a hand through my curls, trying to organize my thoughts. "I think I can temporarily restore the Oracle to who they were before the corruption. Before they became the sterile arbiter of fate. If Winter anchors me through her mark…"
"No." Fenric stood abruptly, his tablet cluttering to the floor. "Absolutely not. I will not authorize an expedition to a maximum-security vault to perform unauthorized necromancy on a cosmic entity of unknown intentions!"
Silence fell over the room. I'd expected resistance, but the vehemence in Fenric's voice caught me off guard. This wasn't just bureaucratic caution, there was real fear there.
Zane was the one to break the quiet, his voice carefully neutral. "What aren't you telling us, Fenric?"
Fenric's jaw worked as he stared at his fallen tablet. When he finally looked up, his silver-blue eyes held something I'd never seen before. Vulnerability.
"The Vault Beneath isn't just a prison," his voice was so soft, so unlike him. "It's a containment system. The Oracle's bones aren't just locked away, they're actively suppressed. Every ward, every seal, every binding is designed to prevent exactly what Milo is suggesting."
"Why?" Winter leaned forward, Horace adjusted his grip on her shoulder to maintain his balance.
"Because the last person who attempted communication with the Oracle didn't survive," Fenric retrieved his tablet with shaking hands. "Agent Miranda Thorne, forty-seven years ago. She was found in the vault three days later, completely drainedof life force. The Oracle had attempted to possess her body as an escape vessel."
My stomach dropped. "But that's different. I'm not trying to channel them completely."
"You're proposing to create a bridge between their consciousness and ours using Winter as an anchor," Fenric's voice rose with each word. "Do you have any idea how catastrophically that could backfire?"
I felt the weight of their gazes, saw the fear in their faces. But I also felt something else. The bone shard Winter carried pulsing with gentle warmth in response to the Oracle's mark on her forehead. They were connected now, had been since that day the mini-skeletons delivered their gift.
"The Oracle doesn't want to escape," I said with growing certainty. "They want to help. I feel it in the dreams, this overwhelming sadness. They never wanted to become what they were forced to be."
"That doesn't make them safe," Zane pointed out, though his tone had lost some of its edge.
To my surprise, it was Rook who spoke next, his voice thoughtful rather than dismissive.
"If the Harbingers are planning something big," he spoke slowly, "and they've gone quiet to prepare for it, we need every advantage we can get. Information about their weaknesses, their plans, their power source."
Zane nodded slowly. "And the Oracle would know. They created the system the Harbingers inherited."
"See?" I felt a surge of hope. "If we can reach the Oracle before they were corrupted, before they became the emotionless arbiter, we might learn how to stop the Harbingers entirely."
Fenric was shaking his head before I finished speaking. "The risks are astronomical. The protocols alone…"
