“You may as well ask how to kill the sky, or the wind.”
“But there
“The answer to that question is shielded even from us.”
“Shielded by Willem Van Lente’s own will.”
“Perhaps you should ask him yourself.”
“We can’t,” Bethany said. “He’s been dead for centuries.”
“No. Willem Van Lente yet lives.”
“He’s alive?” Bethany demanded, incredulous. The oracles didn’t reply, presumably because they’d answered that question already.
I blurted out, “Where is he?” Bethany tried to stop me, but it was too late.
“At last, it speaks,” the first voice said.
“The mighty warrior has returned,” the second said.
“Returned in the guise of a man,” said the third.
“A man that is not a man.”
I stared up into the darkness. “What are you talking about? What does that mean?”
“It has forgotten.”
“It has forgotten what it is.”
“It remembers nothing of its past.”
“I’m not an
“It does not even know what it is.”
“It is a threat, that is what it is.”
“No,” I said, “you’re wrong.”
“It is a danger to all who live.”
“You’re wrong!” I shouted up at them. “I have an amulet now. I’m not a danger to anyone anymore.”
The oracles remained silent for a long moment. I thought maybe I’d gotten my point across. Then, out of the darkness came a booming voice. “It thinks it has a choice. It does not.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded. “What am I?”
“An abomination.”
“A menace.”
“It is a combination of elements that were never meant to be combined.”
“As long as it walks upon this world, as long as it dwells among us, it puts us all in peril.”
“No, you’re lying!” I yelled. “God damn it, if you know what I am, tell me!”
“We have answered your question.”
“Like hell you have!”
“Then seek out the Mistress of the Dead,” the first voice said.
“The Mother of Wraiths,” the second said.
“She knows,” the third said. “She knows all who have passed through the dark that separates the cities of the living from the cities of the dead.”
“You mean Reve Azrael?” I said. “How does she know what I am? What’s the connection between us?”
“We have answered your question.”
“Tell me!” They remained silent, which only made my blood boil more. “Tell me, God damn it! You think I’m dangerous now? Keep pissing me off and you’ll see just how dangerous I can be!”
Bethany grabbed me by the arm. “Don’t,” she said. “You’ve got to keep it together. This isn’t why we’re here.”
I was beginning to understand why the vampire clan elder had wanted to kill the oracles. I wanted to wring their necks myself, but Bethany was right. This was getting us nowhere, and we didn’t have the time to waste. “They’re wrong about me,” I told her, but doubts were already starting to sneak into my mind. How could I be so sure? Everything about me was wrong, my aura, my scent, my memories. I was so wrong even death wouldn’t take me. What if the oracles were right? What if I really was something awful?
Bethany let go of my arm and looked up into the darkness. “I’m sorry about my friend. He didn’t mean it. Please, we need your help.”
“It is too late,” the first voice said. “The sands have run out.”
I looked over at the table. The sands of the hourglass had emptied into the lower half.
“No, wait, please,” she begged them. “If Willem Van Lente is still alive, you’ve got to tell us where to find him. He’s the only one who can stop Stryge.”
“Your time is up.”
“Your questions have been answered.”
The candles extinguished, plunging us into darkness. Behind us, the doors swung open on their own.
“Please, you’re our last chance!” Bethany cried into the dark. “You have to help us!”
No one answered.
Thirty-five
“Did the oracles help?” Philip asked as Bethany and I returned to the Escalade.
I crawled into the backseat. “It was a colossal waste of time.”
“I figured,” Philip said.
“They weren’t exactly forthcoming, but I wouldn’t call it a waste of time,” Bethany said from the front passenger seat. She was more optimistic than I was, but I didn’t see any reason for it. The oracles hadn’t given us anything but gibberish and bad attitude. “They said Stryge’s body was in a tomb somewhere to the north.” She gave him the five names the oracle had supplied, but he’d never heard of them.
She pulled out her cell and got Isaac on speakerphone. She ran the names by him, too. “Do they mean anything to you?” she asked. “Were they in any of the books?”
“No, but hold on a moment, let me get to my computer,” Isaac said. The sound of tapping keys came over the speaker. “I put the names into a search engine, but it’s weird, none of them have anything to do with New York City. Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa is a Benedictine abbey in the Pyrenees. Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert is a medieval abbey outside Montpellier. Trie-en-Bigorre is a Carmelite convent near Toulouse. They’re all religious sites in France.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Bethany said. “Stryge’s body has to be here. The Lenape Indians hid it somewhere after the battle.”
“Maybe they shipped the body to France instead,” I said. “It’s a lot harder to join the head and body when they’re on two separate continents.”
“Impossible,” she said.
I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “Fine. Here’s something that’s more possible: the oracles don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
She ignored me, turning back to the phone sitting open in her hand. “Are you sure there’s no connection between those names, nothing that applies to New York?”
We heard Isaac’s fingers on the keyboard again. “This might be something. It’s from a Web site of New York City walking tours. Listen to this. ‘Throughout the grounds, visitors will find the authentic hallways, chapels, and gardens that once stood in such famous French cathedrals and abbeys as Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa, Saint-Guilhem- le-Desert, and Bonnefont-en-Comminges. Each structure was disassembled brick by brick before being shipped to New York and reassembled in the 1930s as a public museum.’”
“Where is this?” Bethany asked.
“Fort Tryon Park, up in Washington Heights,” Isaac said. “It’s the Cloisters. That’s where Stryge’s body is. They built the Cloisters right on top of his tomb.”
Bethany nodded. “Of course, Washington Heights. That must be where the battle took place. ‘To the north.’
