“It’s . . . beautiful doesn’t seem like the right word.”
“It’s not,” Saylor agreed, taking another sip of lemonade. “It’s awe-inspiring and terrifying and lovely to look at, but not beautiful.”
There was a wistfulness in her voice, and I glanced up. “You miss it.”
It wasn’t a question. Saylor’s eyes were practically misty as she looked at the photograph.
“It was all I knew for a very long time. And don’t get me wrong, Pine Grove is very nice, but it’s not . . .” She trailed off, her fingers brushing the edge of the page. Then she cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. “Anyway, that’s the seat of the Ephors. And how many are there?”
Sighing, I leaned back in my seat. “Five. They used to be elected by the Greek people, but now they choose their own successors. And they pass their power on via super creepy kissing, just like Paladins.”
Saylor frowned. “That’s not exactly how I’d put it, but yes.”
When I didn’t say anything, Saylor reached out and closed the book. “You seem distracted today.”
There was absolutely no humor in my laugh. “Kind of have a lot on my mind right now, Miss Saylor.”
“David told me there was an issue at Cotillion practice yesterday. Something with you and Mary Beth?”
A breeze swept through the open door of the sun porch, making the wind chimes ring softly, and even though I wasn’t that cold, I wrapped my arms around myself. “It wasn’t a big deal. But what was you not being there supposed to accomplish exactly?”
Leaning back in her chair, Saylor folded her arms. “Yesterday was actually another training lesson for you. I wanted to see how you did leading the girls by yourself.”
I snorted. “Oh, well, everyone turned on me and started snarking about my boyfriend and David, so that went super great.”
“What about David?” Saylor asked.
“Let’s just say it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that we’re spending a lot of time together, and people have the wrong idea, and . . . ” I trailed off. “Anyway, I can fix it.”
Before Saylor could reply, David suddenly appeared in the doorway, leaning his head out. “Say— Oh. Pres. Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, turning all my attention back to my book. But he walked onto the sun porch, standing in front of me. “Is everything okay? After yesterday?”
I lifted my head then. David’s outfit today was another winner: a shrunken black V-neck sweater over a bright purple collared shirt, with blue and violet plaid pants. I didn’t even know where one purchased plaid pants. Still, looking at him, I smiled. Say what you would about David’s wardrobe—and I’d said a lot over the years—he was always a hundred percent committed to it.
“It was fine,” I told him. “I went over to Ryan’s and we worked things out, so . . . yeah, right as rain. Except for saving both of our lives and this entire town, of course.” I thumped the book in front of me.
David blinked a couple of times, the effect slightly owlish behind his glasses. “Oh, good. Not about us maybe dying, but you and Ryan. That’s . . . that’s good.”
“It is,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I felt like I hadn’t slept in years.
Silence fell and it lasted a second too long before David turned to Saylor and said, “Anyway, wanted to let you know I was home.”
“Anything to report?” Saylor asked, and even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew David rolled his eyes.
“Nope. No one tried to kill me, I’ve had no bizarre visions of the future, and now I plan on making myself some pizza rolls. We good?”
“Go,” she said, waving a hand at him.
But there was affection in her voice, and her eyes followed him out the door.
“You love him,” I said, and she swung her gaze back to me.
“I do.” She smoothed her hands over her thighs, flattening imaginary wrinkles from the linen.
“Even though he’s not your family.”
Saylor laughed, a surprisingly husky sound. “Don’t you love people who aren’t your family, Harper Jane?”
“Of course I do. But you love him for more than the whole Oracle thing. You love him because he’s David.”
Saylor sighed, looking behind her. The sun was starting to go down, and her backyard was filled with soft golden light. Even in November, things were still green and blooming.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I love him because he’s David. That boy can be a pain in the backside, don’t get me wrong, but he has a good heart. And he’s actually handling this a heck of a lot better than I thought he would. Look at him. Whole life turned upside down, and he’s in there making pizza rolls.” She gave a fond snort. “He’s a good boy. So, yes, I love him, whether he can see the future or not.”
My throat felt weird, so I opened the book again, flipping pages and trying to focus on the words in front of me. Ephors were said to have magical powers of their own, but many people thought they were simply draining that power from the Oracles themselves and—
“Harper, do you care about him?”
Closing my hand around my glass of lemonade before it could plummet to the patio, I shook my head. “David?”
“He was the boy we were speaking of, yes,” Saylor answered dryly. “And not just because he’s the Oracle, but because he’s David.”
I made a big show of resituating my lemonade glass on the table, wiping stray droplets from the book. “Of course I don’t,” I said, even as my heart hammered in my ears. “You’ve seen the two of us together. All we do is argue.”
“Passionately,” Saylor said.
“There is nothing . . . passionate about me and David. I’ve spent most of my life despising him and while I’ll admit that this—this situation has made me appreciate him a little more, there’s nothing going on between us.”
I made myself meet her eyes, which wasn’t easy, seeing as how just thinking about him was making my skin feel weird and too tight.
“Nothing going on,” I repeated, but Saylor only squinted at me.
“Do you know, if it weren’t for your respective positions, I’d hope you were lying to me. I’d hope you felt the same way about David he’s felt about you all these years.”
I couldn’t keep myself from snorting. “You want me to loathe him?”
Saylor wrinkled her nose. “Is that really how you think David feels about you?”
I couldn’t have this conversation right now. Not when there were about a million other things going on that were way more important than feelings.
“Please don’t tell me he’s only been writing horrible articles about me because of a secret crush,” I said, getting out of my chair and going to stand by the window. A cardinal flew into the birdbath, a bright splash of red against all the green. Something about that bright red bothered me, reminding me of . . . something. Something in David’s visions. There had been red in that, a wave of it. Blood? The thought made me shudder.
Saylor came up behind me, watching the bird, too, and I suddenly remembered the other thing she’d said. “What do you mean that you’d be happy if we liked each other were it not for our ‘respective positions’? Is Paladin-Oracle romance frowned upon or something?”
She sighed. “There’s nothing expressly in the rules about it, but it’s generally acknowledged not to be the best idea. The relationship between Paladin, Oracle, and Mage is complicated enough without dragging the heart into it. And there’s always the chance that personal feelings can interfere with duty.”
The late-afternoon sun shone on her silver hair as I looked over at her. Saylor was still staring into the backyard, but her eyes were far away.