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Her sentences are fragmented, already hard to translate as it is, given her strange accent. She speaks some dialect of Skoropi, but it is practically nonsensical, and some words are missed by my translator.
“Life across the vast darkness,” she murmurs. Images flash around her, black and red and green. “They will unsettle…ah!”
She lets out a sudden sob and the room gasps. Her attendants go to her right away, pulling the sensors from her face and yanking her hood back over her head, carrying her away…
…and the crowdapplauds.
It’s one of the strangest, most disturbing experiences I’ve ever had.
People clapping when this woman is clearly describing a genocide yet to come.
While the other attendants take the oracle back to a separate room, one of them heads straight toward us. We watch intently, and Jokahn stands as if the greet her—but he’s rebuffed as she strides past him to speak with Ravik.
“Faith wants to speak with you,” she says.
“With…with me?” Ravik asks.
The attendant nods. “Quickly—she will need her rest soon.”
“Of course,” Ravik says. He stands abruptly, his tail catching him as he sways on his feet. We’ve all been impacted by the prophecy, whatever it meant. “I’ll be back soon,” he tells Taraven.
“Go, and tell us what you learn,” Taraven says. “We’ll be waiting.”
Ravik tilts his chin, then strides off with the attendant. We watch him go, Jokahn looking somewhat crestfallen that it was nothethe oracle wanted an audience with.
He finally turns to face us again, settling into a seat.
“The surprises continue to excite me,” he says. “First this ragtag group of rebels shows up at Nixeris’ command…and now our oracle seems to have taken a special interest in your pilot? Whatever will happen next?”
Frankie glares at him, her lips in a tight line. “We know exactly what will happen,” she says. “You’ll give us the information we wanted about the Second House’s operations on Liatra, and then we’ll be on our way to investigate. We don’t want to impose.”
“How polite of you,” Jokahn drawls. “Well, then—let’s get to business. What exactly is it that you want?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
??
FRANKIE
Jokahn calls for drinks, gesturing to what I think must be a juvenile Skoropi roaming the room with a platter of drinks. I’m so used to seeing the hulking aliens on Jaya that this is new to me—the slight shoulders, delicate build, and spineless tail throwing me off. They aren’t wearing a shirt and are flat-chested like the others, but they’re decked out in different clothes with gold makeup across their eyes.
They walk over with a gentle smile, holding out a platter of drinks like the ones Taraven distills on Jaya, amber and pink liquid dotting the tray. Taraven takes one, but me and Malix both abstain; I still don’t trust this guy enough to drink from an open glass in his home.
“Thank you, darling,” Jokahn smiles.
Skoropi waitress.
Cool.
Or, at least that’s what I think until they join us in the pit.
“I would like to introduce you to my newest bride, Driga,”Jokahn says. “She is my finestcaltantrainer and will provide you with mounts to cross the Three Lakes to the ancestral temple—as Nixeris and I agreed.”
“She…?” I trail off, blushing. “Forgive me—I’ve never actually met a Skoropi female.”
Driga rolls her eyes. “Most haven’t,” she says. “It is a function of our cultural order; the Second House dislikes females roaming around freely.”
“And what do you think of that?” I ask.
