Drip. Drip. Drip...
Blood dripped from Tish's nose to her upper lip and down to her chin. Her blood and Percy's blood mixed together until she couldn't tell which was whose.
The Oracle held Tish's gaze. "What you did there, breaking the dome," he said, his eyes glinting with something akin to pride, "I never expected that of you! That was quite a feat, you know?"
Percy writhed and twitched under her trembling palms. "But you see, Teresa," the Oracle continued, "we can do this all day. You can try healing him and I can kill him. See who wins in the end."
The Kroskoslavs had gathered around them again, like tall trees blotting out the sun and making everything dark. A few were laughing. Tish couldn't tell whether it was from the sickness or from pure glee.
Tish couldn't speak. She didn't want to waste her energy on words.
"You should understand by now that nobody is coming to save you," the Oracle informed her conversationally. "The Benevian Prince and his army have been compromised, and as for the dragon..."
His smile widened. "He will soon be torn to pieces. The world will go back to how it should be. Till then, you'll be kept here," he insisted. "Help these kind townsfolk in every way you can." A pause, and then he added, "Don't worry, you won't die. I'll get you out of here after two or three days."
The townsfolk hummed with approval. "You must learn what it truly means to be a Saintess, the depth of the sacrifices you must make. And if you don't," he looked down at Percy, his eyes full of pity, "someone else has to pay the price."
"Why are you doing this?" Tish had to ask. Her voice came out raspy, and she tasted metal and salt on her tongue.
"Because you interrupted me," the Oracle said softly. "You saved the Dragon and set everything in a mess, Teresa."
"I've never—!"
"You took the arrow for him," the Oracle cut in. "Don't you remember?" His eyes widened. "Oh, you don't even remember!"
Tish was clutching the blade the Oracle had shoved into Percy's chest. She started pulling it out slowly while healing him, making sure he didn't bleed out. But her mind was somewhere else.
She could remember every time Rudra had rambled on about his dream. His dream, or so she and probably everyone else had thought.
"You are really going to kill yourself by saving me."
Rudra had said it, and Tish hadn't laughed or joked about it. The very idea of her saving a narcissistic, selfish bastard like him had been so otherworldly that she had recoiled from the thought that he could even dream of it.
And here she was, facing someone probably much worse than Rudra himself, confirming that it had happened.
"Alaka," the Oracle insisted. In his momentary shock, he let her heal Percy. "The castle. Don't you remember anything at all!" He let out an incredulous laugh. "Because of you and your stupid decision, the rest of us got thrown back into the past!"
"Then why doesn't anyone else remember?" Tish snapped. "Why is it only you and him?"
"We are not the only ones," he grinned. "You'll see. And meanwhile—" He stood up. The townsfolk parted a little, watching the Oracle with awed expressions. "You'll serve the people in need the way they want you to. And once the Dragon is dead, you shall fulfill your destiny."
Serve them how? Like Saintess Anastasia had? Getting consumed by them? Tish couldn't bring herself to ask. The feeling of Davin's teeth was still vivid in her memory.
"And what is that?"
At Tish's question, he looked pleased. "Finally. You're asking the right question!" He spread his hands. "Your destiny is—"
"Cabbage!"
A blur of black fur and horns rammed into the Oracle from nowhere.
"Between his legs, Konstantin! Between his legs!" Tish heard Nayan Dev barking orders to... who?!
She sat there dazed, watching the Oracle grunt with his eyes squeezed shut, cupping his groin. The others looked just as confused, until they heard the sound of hooves. Of one horse. On top of it sat Nayan Dev. She had something in her hand. Half of a marble face, crudely broken, with one carved eye still staring. Saintess Anastasia's.
"Fetch!" She threw the broken face in the direction of the nearest wall. Chaos broke out. "No, Saintess Anastasia!" Many ran to catch it, muttering prayers. "Goddess Lāva will cu'lse us!"
The horse trampled through the crowd, which had been momentarily disrupted by the chaos. Nayan halted the horse before Tish. "Get the fuck up! We don't have time!"
Tish moved before her brain could catch up. She pulled Percy up with her and made him sit behind Nayan.
"Teresa, don't!" The Oracle grabbed her arm. "You're doing it again! Making wrong decisions!"
Nayan grabbed Tish's other hand. "Konstantin! One more time! CABBAGE!"
This time Tish actually registered who Konstantin was. It was the goat. Right! That was its name! She vaguely recalled Rudra and Nayan frantically searching for it in the forest before Mamon had caught up with them. She also recalled the goat loitering around the town. She hadn't imagined it had joined the ranks of the Parthan soldiers.
The goat enthusiastically rebounded, hitting the Oracle in the groin again, so hard that even Tish winced.
The Oracle spluttered, "This fucking—"
"Go go go go!" Nayan hauled Tish in front of her and pulled the reins. The horse lurched forward. "Konstantin! Don't fall behind!" The goat bleated cheerfully.
The horse wasn't fast with three people. But at least they were making progress. Or so she had thought.
The townsfolk had finally pulled themselves together. They hurled themselves in front of the horse with pikes and shovels. Too many to ignore. Percy had unstrapped his belt to hit the nearest ones trailing behind them. Nayan was swinging her sword. But the overwhelming number of the crowd made Tish dread that Nayan, too, would get trapped in Tish's hell, along with Percy.
And she would have to watch Nayan get tortured as well.
But then they heard a low rumbling, like lightning behind clouds. Too close. The last of the daylight vanished as a huge shadow covered the sky. Tish looked up to see Rudra's underbelly as he flew so close that the roof tiles went flying. People screamed and scattered.
Nayan patted the rightfully anxious horse. "Don't worry! He doesn't eat horses!" With that, she kicked its side. "Go, go!"
The horse lurched forward again, and Tish fell back against Nayan's chest. Rudra didn't stop. He flew away over the crowd.
"What..." Tish uttered. "What is happening?"
"Mamon and his soldiers have been drugged," Nayan said, fast and urgent. "We heard the noises, but we couldn't come sooner. I'm sorry!"
"How did the goat—"
"I don't know! Ask Rudra!" Nayan said, frustrated. "You must heal the Benevian soldiers so they can fight the townsfolk. Rudra won't be able to hold them back!"
"Why?"
"Because he has other battles." Nayan looked above, her face a little pale. "And I don't think those will end very soon."
Tish followed her gaze. In the sky, Rudra was so high he was barely bigger than a drop of ink, red and black. But he wasn't alone.
There were other things. Black wings, grey beaks. They looked like birds, but too big to be birds.
Tish realised she had seen one of those before. She had seen it just last night. Rudra had almost died fighting one.
And now there were three of them circling him in the sky.