Callida took in their surroundings continuously. Up the stairs, through the double doors, down a dark, gothic hallway…. They passed several display cases holding various objects, many of them weapons that she might have found interesting were she not preoccupied building a map in her mind’s eye. They passed five doors spaced between branching passages on each side of the long hallway, eventually turning right at a T. There were no more doors on the left-hand side, but they passed three doors on the right and more display cases before turning left down a very short passage to a grand pair of double doors. The doors creaked open as the Guardians in front of her tugged the circular handles, and Callida flinched at the sudden explosion of light in front of her. Compared to the dark hallway, this room was blinding.

As her eyes teared up and adjusted, clerestory windows and skylights came into view above her, and a wall of windows to the west opened to allow the setting sun to light the room on fire. An abundance of shiny, mirrored objects lining the walls only bounced the flaming light further, layering the brilliance of the sunset with its many reflections. It was stunning, and Callida might have been awed, except, just in front of the western wall, there was a stone-topped ceremonial table… like the one she’d been strapped to and violated on in the Griffin Tribe temple.

She became dizzy, identified her hyperventilation, and quickly quelled her breath. She had to stay sharp, now more than ever, and it was only a table. Alone, it couldn’t hurt her. More urgently, there were about a dozen Guardians scattered throughout the ceremonial chamber, lining the walls. There were thirteen Guardians, to be precise, plus the three that had escorted them in for sixteen total. Unlike their spiritualist escorts and the Oracle, the Guardians about the room had patches of their monastic orders embroidered on their cloaks. Callida couldn’t see what was on the patches between the lighting of the room and her distance from them, but it seemed interesting that their garments were distinctive in this manner, almost like a military with their rank marked on their clothes. That was not a comforting comparison. Militaristic monks? What next?!

“Shall we proceed?” Vanha asked, and Callida realized a moment late that Vanha was speaking to her, her arms outstretched expectantly.

“They’re sleeping,” Callida made up an excuse to only partially expose Tajam, providing access to his chest without removing him from the sling or surrendering him entirely.

Vanha raised an irritated eyebrow but didn’t argue, instead reaching a hand out to the baby’s chest. “Oh. Oh, yes. Another confusing one. This one is like a dragon but without wings. Less serpentine… and more… lizard-like.” She stepped back to make room for Haluton to step forward. He merely agreed with Vanha by nodding once.

“May I?” The old Oracle Guardian stepped forward with a hand outstretched.

“You’re also a spiritualist?” Callida asked, recoiling for unknown reasons and then suppressing her irrational response.

“In a different way, yes,” they answered, their voice husky and appearance uninformative such that Callida still had no idea if they were male or female. “May I?” they repeated. She nodded, watching closely as the Oracle touched a pair of fingers to her son’s chest. “A different kind of dragon,” they declared. “A komodo.”

“Isn’t that impossible?” Vanha questioned and then bowed respectfully when the Oracle turned to look at her without answering.

“And the other infant?” The Oracle turned again to Callida, and Callida exposed Ddalu’s chest for the Oracle. Again she watched them closely. “Also a reptile: a crocodile,” they declared, and Vanha and Haluton stepped forward, eager to see what the Oracle had identified.

“How is this possible?” Vanha asked with much more reverence than her earlier query.

“The Primordials must see it fit to restore the Lost Tribes at this time,” the Oracle answered with tonal neutrality that set alarm bells off in Callida’s head for reasons she, yet again, could not explain. “May I examine your other children?”

Callida agreed but hovered protectively as the Oracle confirmed Probus to be a lion, Tiaki to be a shark, and Manasik to be a snake. “Can you tell me how this could happen?” Callida asked when they’d finished. “How is it that my sons aren’t…? I’m a wolf. Their father is a wolf. They should be wolves, right?”

The old Oracle remained quiet for a moment. Callida could see wheels turning in their head, calculating a reply. To her surprise, the Oracle turned to Rogue. “You are the father?”

“Yes.”

“What is your name?”

“Qiangde Yudha.”

“You have been identified as a wolf?”

“Yes.”

“But you are half dragon.”

Rogue’s eyes blew wide and then narrowed suspiciously. “What makes you say that?”

“Are you not half dragon? What is your ancestry, Qiangde Yudha?”

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“What does my ancestry have to do with anything?”

“Such children can only be the product of a powerful heritage, and Yudha is not a common name,” the Oracle stated simply. “The line of the ancient Dragon Tribe King was reported to have been broken. Do you claim that the line continues, or do you claim the name only?”

Rogue began to bounce with the boys becoming cranky on his back, using the action as a way to stall for an answer. “Are you certain that there was only one Yudha line to break?”

The Oracle raised an unamused eyebrow. “That line was always narrow. A single man’s death along with his family resulted in the ancestral line fading from existence. If you are not willing to be transparent about your heritage, my ability to help you is limited.”

Rogue’s eyes met Callida’s briefly, her own bewilderment finding its match. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rogue opted to withhold information, and Callida was torn in her reaction to that choice. Tactically, revealing less was safest, but she was also starving for answers that the Oracle seemed to possess.

“Hm,” the Oracle pursed their lips and stepped away. “And what is your heritage, General Yudha? It is well known that you are the product of a wolf and lion. What makes your ancestry so powerful?”

“Absolutely nothing. I descend from a humble line of soldiers,” Callida said unhelpfully.

“So be it,” the Oracle muttered and turned away, their hands entering the sleeves of their cloak again. Callida grew ever more nervous, imagining all the things one might hide inside such billowy sleeves. “I must deliberate with the Guardians about how this can be. You may wait here for your answers,” the Oracle suddenly said, and Callida defensively shielded Rogue as the entire group of Guardians turned to exit through another door across the way, following the Oracle.

One of the Guardians passed closely, side-eyeing the Yudha family as he went, and Callida got a good look at the patch on his cloak: a dagger, choked by a thorned rose vine. The same patch. The same order as the Guardians in the Griffin Tribe temple. The ones who’d kidnapped her… tortured her… violated her… nearly killed her.

And it connected. The same motif as Ustrina’s seal… the dowager targeting unborn babies… seeking political power by any means necessary. What was the real symbolism of roses and a dagger? Was it only a coincidence that two murderous entities shared the same images? Were they connected in more ways than their symbolism?

Regardless of the swirling suspicions, all doubt surrounding the source of her unease vanished instantly, and Goldie’s snarling became a warsnare vibrating in Callida’s chest. The moment the door closed behind the last of the Guardians, Callida stripped the sling holding the twins to her chest and transferred them to Rogue’s.

“It’s time to run.”

***

Horrified and triggered with five small children under a year old now strapped to his body, Rogue allowed Callida to guide him back the way they’d come with her naked sword in her hand. He was hopelessly turned around, but Callida seemed to know where she was going as the hallways diverged and twisted. Nothing looked familiar until the double doors came into view. Soon they were in the courtyard again. It was still devoid of life, and now Rogue could sense the eeriness hanging in the silence. It seemed so obvious now, and he shuddered from that looming sense of unease. They stuck close to the walls, heading in the direction that their horses had been taken, looking for the stables.

“Pst!” Someone hissed, and Callida wheeled around so fast, Rogue startled. “Please, do not hurt me!” the voice squeaked from somewhere… below? He followed the line of Callida’s sword to its tip now resting against the crook of someone’s neck — a middle-aged woman — a Guardian standing in a window well at his feet. He jumped back. “Please, I came to help you!”

“How?!” Callida demanded in a harsh whisper.

“The others plan to kill you. They predicted that you would come eventually and have set a trap. I played along, and I know their plans. But I will not help them. They have shut the portcullis, so there is no escape that way. But there is a back exit. It is difficult to find if you do not know the way, but I will take you to it.”

“Why are you helping us?”

“Because I believe in the prophecy,” she said, fearfully glancing at Callida’s sword. “Please. There is not much time. They will be looking for you by now.” Hesitantly, Callida lowered her weapon, and the Guardian smiled, beckoning for Rogue and Callida to follow her. “Come. This way.”

Callida helped Rogue drop into the window well without jostling the babies around too much; her own drop into the well behind him was much more graceful. He stepped through the window into a small kitchen area, and they blindly followed the Guardian through a series of confusing hallways and rooms, hiding in corners whenever human movement could be heard nearby. The terrifying feeling of being hunted made time do strange things. Mere moments seemed to last hours while minutes flew by in instants. Keeping the toddlers on his back quiet was the most stressful thing he’d ever done in his life, but somehow, they made it to the small door at the bottom of a long, narrow flight of stairs without being caught. The door opened into the forest, and the sunlight was now almost gone.

Rogue immediately headed for the refuge of the trees, turning in confusion when he realized that Callida wasn’t following him. “Aren’t you coming?” The next moment felt like an eternity. “Callida?” She looked back up the stairs, the pounding of approaching footsteps sounding behind her. She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Callida?!”

“Run, Qiangde. Just run. I’ll catch up.”

“But–”

“No questions asked.”

He froze, hearing the order to run in a different voice... And her hair was mostly black but streaked with silver, and her skin a shade darker, and her figure curvier, and eyes more slanted, and….

By the time he got to the door, it had been shut and locked from the inside with Callida disappearing through it. “Callida!” He started pounding on the door, begging her to open it and come with him. Then, someone beyond the door shouted, a muffled cry of surprise that soon became one of anguish. There was a blood-curdling scream, the clang of steel hitting stone, and Rogue jumped back when something crashed with a heavy, fleshy thud against the wood in front of him. The babies on his chest startled as he did, and they began to cry. Some paternal instinct kicked in, flooding his mind with fear and his body with adrenaline…

… so he ran.