Book Five: Chapter 220

“Prison,” the Oracle corrected as if reading Cyrus’ mind. “You may use fancy words for it, but it is still a prison.” A dark shape moved behind the mist as the Oracle came near the glass. “It has been many years since we last spoke in person.”

“It has.” Cyrus licked his lips, which had suddenly gone dry. “I have a question of a delicate nature.”

“Indeed.” The Oracle shifted in his enclosure, his glowing eyes visible through the mist. “Just think of the journey it has been to bring you to this point.”

“So you know the question I want to ask?”

The Oracle chuckled. “Perhaps. But I am not ready to answer it yet. Indulge me. I would hear about your reasons for asking it.”

Cyrus frowned. “You can’t see what brings me here?”

“There are many places on this planet that obscure my vision.” The swirling mists parted, briefly revealing a pair of damaged wings. “You have recently steeped yourself in such a place, like a fine tea. I would hear of it that I may