he spat. “Your spring would have been subject to all without protections if not shielded by my abode. You are a vegoia, a sibylline nymph of the spring, and are as bound to it as I am the Eternal Forest. By my will, you are kept hidden and safe.”
“To never feel a breath of air or warmth of the sun,” she returned bitterly. She glared at him for several long, tense minutes before letting out an irritated sigh. “Stubborn, still. Very well, brother,” she hissed, her eyes glowing as her lithe body began to sway.
“Your ruin comes to you,” Dorinda continued in a gleeful whisper, “brought by your own wood. It shall change the expanse of the Eternal Forest forever, the very order of your domain… but the manner in which it changes is unfixed. It depends on you. Cacus, old Cacu, has awakened. Beware of him, brother. His sight is wide and his form monstrous, though he can appear to be quite fair. He hides himself away beneath the flesh of Earth Mother Cel, but he very much roams within these woods.”
She tilted her head, listening. “I hear him at times, I think… or the echo of his passing.”
Silvas closed his eyes as he attempted to gain control over his surge of annoyance, but he felt dread gathering in his gut. He had hoped that it was not true—that the human had been deceived or intentionally attempted to lead him astray. To have it confirmed sent a prickle of awareness through him as he instinctively reached for his forest.
Though he could not see through the trees, he sensed the pulse of life of all things within the woods at that moment. The trees quivered beneath the force of his power, but there he could not find Cacus outside of a stench of foul, greasy ash on the air that seemed to have invaded his woods, and lingered. That the creature was hiding and traveling within the cavern systems sent a blistering wave of fury through him.
Hissing through his teeth, he met the oracle’s cool gaze and inclined his head in thanks. “My gratitude, sister, for this information. I appreciate that you did not deliver it in yet another terrible rhyme for me to discern as you did last time.”
The vegoia’s lip curved into a hard smile, and she raised one shoulder nonchalantly, her tail twisting along the rocks. “Times change,” she observed callously. “Or rather, this instance requires a change. As entertaining as it has been to lead you about, there is too much at stake.”
“What do you mean ‘lead me about?’” he snarled.
Her smile widened, revealing her long fangs. “I freely admit that many of the rules my kind must obey pertains only to humans when utilizing a sybil, not to greater spirits that inhabit the cosmos. Your arrogance did not deserve such a gift. I admit that watching you struggle like a hapless mortal has been… satisfying.”
Clarity swept over him. Every time he had come to see her, she toyed with him through her elusive riddles. A growl built in his chest as some his fury redirected toward the oracle. “Venomous creature, your intentional deviance has cost me much. Your warning about Alseida I unraveled only after succumbing to her. Do you have any idea of the damage you did?” he shouted.
Dorinda stiffened, loosing an angry hiss. “Do you expect me to feel sympathy? You locked me away! It is the only amusement I have had over centuries of isolation. You deserved every bit of your own personal suffering.”
“And the others who were harmed?”
The vegoia frowned and turned her head away. “Your failures are your own,” she muttered, a flick of her tail sending a spray of water to splash on the nearest wall of the cavern. “I may have been more enigmatic than necessary, but I could not foresee the exact consequences or provide you names then just as I cannot now. That knowledge is hidden even from me. The Fates only let me see a portion of what they devise. You must ask your questions wisely,” she insisted earnestly, her red eyes glowing in the gloom of the cave.
Silvas was ready to spin on his heel and leave his viperous sister but paused at the note of desperation in her voice. “Why do you care?”
“I am concerned,” she whispered, her narrow pupils expanding as she leaned forward over her rock. “I did not utter a falsehood when I said that these events will change the