Hall of Shadows [The Celestial Chronicles #2]

Chapter Eight: Jasper Silverbird

"Or would, if you could not control them, but he would!"

-Douglas Steward, "The Atom"

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Soundtrack of the chapter: Brotherhood by John Dreamer

Media: Beautiful banner of Jasper by Nour

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Chapter Eight: Jasper Silverbird

"You could've killed her," Jasper scolded as he examined Cady. "What were you thinking?"

Zoroth shrugged. "Trying to save her?"

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Decanates, they never admit their mistakes."

Zoroth folded his arms across his chest. "What do you know about Decanates, Oracle?"

"Oh, more than you know." Jasper felt for Cady's pulse. "Plus, what on earth were you two thinking, waltzing into the Hall of Spirits like that? You two are suicidal."

"The High Priest of the Hall of Games sent us here. Do we look like we have a choice?"

"Then the High Priest is dumb. This is an impossible mission, to impersonate as an Oracle. No wonder your Ascendant is exhausted."

Zoroth felt suspicion rise again. This boy knew far too much about Walkers than an average Oracle. His eyes fell to the pouch in which Jasper had drawn his card weapon. But then again, for him to possess the Gilded Tarot, he must have descended from an ancient bloodline.

"My mother was a Walker," Jasper suddenly said, breaking the silence. "She died in the Great War, just like the rest of her kind."

"Oh." Zoroth was at a loss of speech. "I'm sorry."

Jasper didn't seem to hear him, for his gaze was transfixed on Cady. "And I never expected to find one alive, especially after sixteen years."

"Aren't you going to turn us in?" Zoroth asked.

Jasper tucked Cady under a thick quilt before he rose. "Do I look like an evil person?" He raised an eyebrow at Zoroth.

"A little," Zoroth admitted. "It's not every day we come upon an Oracle who doesn't hate Walkers. It's suspect worthy."

Jasper walked toward a tall cabinet and threw the doors open. He started rummaging through the curious assortment of dried herbs, humming a soft tune under his breath.

He grabbed a couple of sachets and a root with a peculiar flower. "For ten years I have lived alone, I have learned not to care for politics. I have nothing against Walkers. So why would I harm one in need of help?"

"Thank you," Zoroth said. "For keeping this a secret."

"I'm a Physician," Jasper said without even looking up, busy grinding the herbs together with a pestle. "I don't jeopardize my patients' safety."

Zoroth sat down, deep in thought. He watched Jasper roll up his sleeves, exposing his Oracle tattoo which glistened in the dancing lamplight. He wasn't sure if this Oracle was trustworthy. For all he knew, Jasper could turn them in to Raphine Sanguinis anytime.

Silence consumed them, save for the steady pounding of pestle against mortar.

He decided to give Jasper a chance. If he betrayed them, Zoroth will tear him into shreds and feed him to the sharks.