Eye of the Oracle - By Bryan Davis Page 0,197

and all three settled on the blanket in a tight circle.

Paili set a double fudge, two-layer cake in the center. Fifteen candles lined the frosted perimeter. “I know you didn’t ask for a cake,” she said as she struck a match, “but what’s a birthday without cake and candles?” She cupped her hand around the match to keep the cool breeze from snuffing out her efforts.

As soon as the last candle came to life, Patrick and Paili sang a hurried version of “Happy Birthday.” Shiloh then leaned forward and blew out the candles.

Patrick clapped his hands. “All fifteen in one blow!”

Shiloh pushed back her hair and smiled. “I think the wind helped me.”

A twig snapped. Gabriel floated higher and gazed at a nearby thicket. Nothing moved. Maybe the breeze had knocked down a limb. He edged close to the thicket and peered through the leafy branches of a head-high bush. A man crouched behind it, and a raven perched on his shoulder.

Gabriel zoomed back to Shiloh and swirled his energy over the blanket. The flashlight was still in the basket! He dove inside, stretched his energy into a thread-thin line, and penetrated a tiny hole in the flashlight’s casing. He bridged the battery’s current to the bulb several times, making the light flash repeatedly, but how could they possibly notice? He streamed out again and wrapped himself tightly around Shiloh. Maybe somehow he could communicate the danger from mind to mind.

“And now for your gift!” Patrick withdrew a small, velvet-covered box from his jacket pocket, and, carefully lifting the hinged lid, presented it to Shiloh.

As she pulled out a delicate gold chain, a wide smile spread across her face. An octagonal bronze pendant dangled at the bottom of the chain with a marble-sized white stone glimmering at its center.

“Shiloh!” Gabriel shouted. “You have to hear me! Morgan is coming!”

Paili ran a finger along the chain’s links. “Do you like it?” she asked.

Shiloh leaned over and kissed each of her parents. “I love it! Thank you!” She settled back and examined the gem in the pendant’s center. “What is this? A pearl?”

After draping the chain around her neck, Patrick hooked the fastener. “It’s a rubellite, the rarest kind. It was once red, and it suddenly turned white almost a year before you were born. It’s a family heirloom my sister gave me a long time ago.”

Gabriel laid his hands on Shiloh’s cheeks. His fingers flashed like scarlet beacons. “Danger is near, Shiloh! You have to run! Now!”

Shiloh’s eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly.

“Is something wrong?” Patrick asked.

Shiloh lowered her brow. “I’m not sure. I have a funny feeling, like someone’s calling me.”

“Really?” Paili touched Shiloh’s hand. “Is it an audible voice?”

Shiloh closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m probably just tired.” She rubbed her thumb across the smooth stone. “So you got this from Irene? The lady in your stories about the dragons?”

“Yes,” Patrick replied. “It represents our life essence. Irene ”

The man burst out of the thicket. “Stay where you are!” He drew a sword from a scabbard and ran toward the birthday gathering.

Gabriel unfurled his wings in front of Shiloh and flashed his energy field with all the power he could muster, but how would that stop a charging swordsman? Without electricity, he was nothing but an invisible ghost! He scanned the skies. The closest electrical line hung at least a hundred yards away. Too far to tap into its power!

Leaping in front of Paili and Shiloh, Patrick spread his arms. The intruder halted and pricked Patrick’s throat with the point of the sword. Paili jumped up, but Patrick lifted his hand, signaling for her to stay away. He angled his head back. “Palin!” He swallowed hard. “What is the meaning of this?”

A female voice answered Patrick. “You know the meaning, Valcor.”

Stepping aside, Palin lowered the sword. A slender, dark-haired woman appeared from behind a tree. Her ghostly form seemed to float, though her legs moved in a normal cadence. “You didn’t send me a card with your change of name and address,” she said. “I was worried that I would never find you again or meet your lovely daughter.”

Patrick glared at her. “Morgan. How typical of you to pollute the pristine meadows like a walking weed.”

A scowl flashed across Morgan’s face, but she quickly replaced it with a broad smile. “Poetic, as always, my old friend, but your insults are misplaced. I have a wonderful birthday gift for Shiloh, and I

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