Page 49 of Inextricably Tied

“If we’ve run out of trails to follow…” she starts again. “We could try the Convent.”

Agony blinks. “What’s a Convent?”

“It’s where banshees go once our abilities initiate.” She sinks down in her chair. “A religious school where we live together. Follow the tenets. Strengthen our skills.”

In the early days of their partnership, Harbinger mentioned the Convent. It’s never been a bright spot of conversation, but Flint knows enough. It’s the place where Harbinger spent a portion of her adolescence, and not somewhere she’s keen to go back to.

“We don’t have to go there,” Flint counters. “We’ll find something else. We can try the schools again —”

“We’ve tried them. Twice already.”

They all fall silent, racking their brains for another option. Harbinger looks wearily to the ceiling.

“I want to do it before I talk myself out of it. Rip the bandage off.”

Flint waits to see if she’ll change her mind. Instead, the phone rings. Harbinger checks the screen.

Unknown number. OID. Again.

She tosses the phone back on the table. “At least the Convent has no cell service.”

SIXTEEN

Flint

It’s the furthest they’ve traveled yet. Red dust billows out behind the SUV as dusk falls over the desert. They’re closer to Faerie than they have been in a while, but it’s little more than clouds in the distance. Harbinger directs Flint with a grim expression, past the wooden sign erected by the road.

Shrine of the Sacred Oracle.

The rock formation towers over them when they pull up. Holes cut into its face for windows, fitted with an amalgam of stained glass. Flint carries their luggage in one hand as Agony’s eyes catch on stars pricking through the darkened sky. The three of them stand back from the heavy wooden door, Flint and Agony watching Harbinger from either side.

Another minute passes. Agony shifts in the dirt before he leans forward to look at her. “Are you gonna knock?”

Harbinger’s gaze stays narrowed on the door. “They know we’re here.”

And with that, the door creaks open, revealing a tunnel lit by torches and an older woman with the same skeletal markings as Harbinger.

The woman’s loose black robes brush the dirt as she walks, stopping before them with a dour expression. Unlike Harbinger’s fingers, this woman has black marks scorching in and around her eyes. No one speaks. They stare at each other until Harbinger breaks first.

“You don’t look surprised.”

The woman doesn’t look happy, either. “We knew someone would disturb our peace.” She lifts both palms toward her eyes, bringing her hands down to her mouth where she fans her fingers forward. “So say the Oracle.”

Harbinger’s mouth twitches like she’s biting something back. Resisting words. Resisting the gesture.

The woman’s scowl deepens. “Why are you here?”

Harbinger’s boot scuffs against the ground, grinding the ball of her foot into the dirt. “I’m working a case. We’re…” she gestures beside her. “Working a case. I need to speak with some of the Seers.”

“We don’t allow outsiders.”

Harbinger’s mouth pulls into a reticent smile. “That’s not true.”

The woman’s eyes harden. “We don’t allow outsiders with no respect for our purpose.”

For a moment, Flint expects Harbinger to turn on her heel, to flip both middle fingers as they head back to the car. Instead, she inhales. “We’re talking about death, Auspice —”

“That’s Diviner Superior to you, little girl.” Diviner Auspice’s expression sharpens, honed on Harbinger like a blade, torchlight flickering behind the weight of her voice. “Have you forgotten our customs so quickly?”