"I can't allow this folly," Ashan said. "Maybe you truly believe this is right, but we can't take the chance. You expose us all to slavery, David, not just yourself. No."
The minister looked justifiably bewildered, and not just by the sudden popping in of supernatural guests. I was thinking his brain had skipped right over that part. The human race was absolutely stellar at plausible deniability. "But I haven't asked for any objections, " he said faintly. "We don't do that anymore. Really, this is most - "
Ashan ignored him. Ignored me, too. He was focused only on David, and if David was a glorious bright star, burning with potential, Ashan was his polar opposite: leached of color; pale as an undertaker; grim as impending death. He was even wearing black - a severe suit, with a black tie paired with a white shirt. His idea of formal attire, I guessed. It might have even passed, if it hadn't been for the bitter expression and the cold, cold fire in his teal-blue eyes.
"You have no place here," David said. I felt the power of the Earth rising up in him, rich and thick and irresistible; Ashan was a Conduit, yes, but this was David's territory, David's home ground, in a sense. Ashan was an intruder, uninvited and unwelcome. "Leave us."
Ashan slowly shook his head. "I don't come for myself," he said. "I come for all of us, to ask. Don't do this, David. Don't destroy us again, for your personal satisfaction."
I'd expected assault, not a plea, and especially not a plea that had the ring of sincerity to it.
David didn't respond. He gazed at Ashan, fire in his eyes, but he didn't lash out.
Ashan said, even more quietly, "I also didn't come alone." He didn't move, not even his gaze, but I felt the shocking flare on the aetheric, and suddenly there was a presence beside him. It was human in shape, but not human at all - a wild power, barely contained by flesh. His skin was hot red, shifting with patterns of color, and his eyes were the pure white of the hottest flame. I'd never seen him take human form before, but I knew him.
The Fire Oracle had left his protected home in a crypt in Seacasket. I hadn't even known he could.
With a whisper rather than a flare, another presence shaped itself out of the air on Ashan's other side. Milk-glass skin, a vessel containing fog and ice. The Air Oracle was only barely human as well, and androgynous in form. Two of them. The Air Oracle had no fixed abode that I knew of, but still, it took a major event for it to manifest so publicly.
I knew, without even asking, that it had never happened before. Not in all the history of the Djinn.
Another surge of power, this one familiar, so bitterly and sweetly familiar. My daughter, Imara - human and far more than human, beautiful and unreachable and remote. She looked sad, but sure of herself - a mirror of my face and form, but with a totally individual core she'd inherited from both me and her father.
She was standing with the others, against us.
David closed his eyes, and I knew it hurt him as much as it did me. When he opened them, his eyes had gone dark, almost human. "You're sure," he said. "Imara?"
I thought for a few heartbeats that she might defect, might throw her support to us, but then she bowed her head. "I'm sure," she whispered. "Too dangerous. So much at risk. You can't, Dad. You just . . . can't."
Silence. The audience was whispering. I couldn't imagine what they were making out of this. Lewis had moved Cherise out of the line of fire, in case there was going to be any, but somehow I knew this wasn't going to come to fireworks. Not this time.
David slowly turned back to me and said, very simply, "I do."
My mind went blank for a second, and I felt the seductive flow of power wash over me. Half done. This was an exchange of vows; his was powerful, but not complete without my consent. The minister nervously cleared his throat, eyes darting from David, to me, to Ashan, to the three Oracles.
"Do you, Joanne - " His clerical voice was about half an octave higher than it ought to have been. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Do you, Joanne, take this man - "
"Wait," I said.
All of the Djinn - even Ashan - let out a sigh, and David's grip on my hand tightened painfully. His eyes went wide, and his skin bone-pale.
"Jo - "
"Just wait," I repeated. "Ashan, the Oracles - you admitted yourself that you don't know what will happen, David. How can we do this? How can we change the rules like this when we don't even know what's coming for us?" My voice broke. My heart broke. I was watching the fire die in him, and it hurt. "It isn't about us. It's about them, all of the people who depend on us!"
"I'm willing to take the risk," he whispered. "Believe in us, Jo. Please. Believe."
His hand came up to trace my cheek, and I felt tears well up in my eyes and burn trails down my cheeks. His fingertips came away wet from my face, and he raised them to his lips.
Please.
I might have changed my mind. I can't swear that I would have, or I wouldn't; the fracture between my head and my heart ran right down to my soul.
I didn't have time to find out.
The aetheric caught fire. At first I thought it was David, erupting in frustration and anger at me for what I'd done, but then I realized that it wasn't him at all.
We were under attack.
David spun away from me. So did the other Djinn, all facing outward, blindly seeking the threat. "You know what to do," David shouted to Ashan. "Protect the Oracles!"
A silver scar formed on David's right cheek, then darkened, and the infection I'd seen earlier at Ortega's house began to spread its tendrils again under his skin, moving frighteningly fast.
"David!" I grabbed for him, but he spun away, avoiding me. Doing his job. Dispatching his waiting Djinn according to some plan he hadn't shared with me. . . . Lewis was moving, too, shouting at the Wardens. Everybody had a plan, it seemed, except for me.
I felt the black wave sweep over me. It wasn't meant for me; it was centered on David, but even the edges of it made me feel faint and sick.
He collapsed against me, shuddering, and I felt a scream trying to rip loose from him. I was the only thing holding him up, the only defense he had left.
The Oracles vanished, leaving gusts of hot wind in their place that fluttered the pale layers of my gown. David's weight pulled me down. It seemed as though he was growing heavier with every passing second.
Ashan stood there, immobile, impassive, perfect.
"Help!" I screamed at him, and grabbed his hand. It felt like cold marble. "Damn you, he's your brother! Do something!" The two of them were the same, united by purpose and power, if not by the ties of blood that humans understood.