The Society of Imaginary Friends
Chapter 24

The next morning, Valerie was shaken awake by Kanti. “We’ve overslept! Come on, guys, get up.”

Cyrus rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Relax, we’re up.”

“Relax? How could I have forgotten about Henry like that last night? It was like I was drugged or something. Did they use some fairy spell?”

“I don’t think so. It was a celebration of life,” Valerie said. She smiled at the memory. It was the first party she had ever gone to, and it made up for every birthday that she had never had the chance to celebrate.

“Anyway, Putrefus sleeps in, remember?” Cyrus added.

“I’m no better than my parents, forgetting what’s important just to go to some party,” Kanti muttered angrily, her bushy eyebrows drawn so closely together that they almost met in the middle. Then, louder, she said, “Whatever, let’s get going.”

“What’s with her?” Cyrus whispered to Valerie as they hurriedly packed their gear. She shrugged. She was starting to get used to Kanti’s mood swings.

Outside, bright light beat down on the tent and rolled off the desert in waves. The Roaming City was full of movement. In the daylight, Valerie could see that all the robes worn by the members of the Oracle were different colors.

Cyrus noticed Valerie examining them and explained, “The colors have to do with how experienced they are at prophesying. The white robes are for the newest apprentices, but other than that, I don’t know what the colors mean.”

Sibyl, wearing a silvery robe, fluttered over as they finished packing. “I’ll take you to Pythia’s Temple. Putrefus should be there by now. Maybe we can persuade him to deliver your prophesy with a little enticement. I brought you his favorite pastry. It might sweeten him up,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, handing a fluffy muffin to Valerie.

“Thanks, Sibyl. That’s so thoughtful of you.”

“And can we hurry? Not to be rude, but it’s so important,” Kanti said, apprehension written on her face.

Sibyl led them through the streets of the Roaming City. It was very different from Silva, where every building was unique. Instead, all of the tan huts were indistinguishable from each other until they came to the door of one brown building that was several times wider and taller than all of the other huts.

“This is the temple of the founder of the Oracle, Pythia. She is one of the most ancient creatures on the Globe, born when Conjurors still lived on Earth. She established this city as soon as she moved here in order to train others who possess a gift for prophesying. She has instructed hundreds in her craft and in her code of honor. She taught us how to use our powers to give the worthy insight into the future, so Conjurors could shape their lives and this world in a positive way. She also created the code we live by, to help those in need and to resist using our powers for profit,” Sibyl said. “Of course, some of us revere the code more than others.”

Valerie had a pretty good idea who Sibyl was referring to. Putrefus didn’t embrace the code with quite the same fervor that Sybil did.

“Will we meet Pythia?” Cyrus asked.

“That’s very unlikely. She rarely leaves her bed,” Sibyl replied, her eyes filled with grief. “Pythia is coming to the end of her days.”

“I’m so sorry,” Valerie said, putting a gentle hand on Sibyl’s shoulder. Sibyl squeezed her hand and then led them into the temple.

The inside of the temple was as unassuming as the outside. The walls were bare, and the only decoration was a spiral staircase at the back of the room that swept up to the second floor. The temple was filled with a quiet bustle as the Conjurors in their many-colored robes went about their tasks. In the middle of the room were three concentric circles. At the center was a three-legged stool. Valerie noticed that no one stepped inside the circles.

“No one can enter the rings unless they are delivering or receiving a prophecy,” Sybil explained. “The space inside the rings is holy.”

“There he is,” Kanti said, nudging Valerie and distracting her from her examination of the room.

Putrefus, wearing a deep purple robe, stood by a window talking to a small group of Conjurors wearing blue. Putrefus said something, and then the group looked over at Valerie, Kanti, and Cyrus and didn’t even try to hide their laughter.

Valerie took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” They walked over to Putrefus with Sibyl lingering behind them. “Good morning, Putrefus. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Valerie. I heard that you’re the most gifted member of the Oracle in the city.”

“You heard correctly,” he said.

Valerie saw Kanti trying to stifle her laughter, and she nudged her hard in the ribs. “I brought you breakfast. I heard this is your favorite,” Valerie said with a smile, handing him the muffin. “I would be so honored if you would deliver my prophecy. The need is great, for, you see, there’s a boy in trouble and I have to save him. May I count on your compassion?”

“I already ate,” Putrefus said, tossing the muffin to one of his friends. “So if I help you, what’s in it for me?”

Valerie turned to Cyrus, confused. “I thought we didn’t need an offering.”

“You don’t!” Sibyl burst out indignantly. She had been hovering a few yards behind the group, but now she pushed herself forward so that she was standing inches away from Putrefus. “It is our duty and privilege to help those in need.”

“I’m very busy. Why don’t you ask one of the lower level Oracles to deliver your prophecy?” Putrefus said, turning away disdainfully.

Before Valerie could react to Putrefus’s rejection, a sudden hush fell over the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing and fell to one knee with their hands over their hearts. To her surprise, even Putrefus grudgingly knelt.

Valerie followed the gaze of everyone in the room and saw an ancient woman in a red robe at the top of the staircase. Slowly, she descended, stair by stair. She moved as if each step took great effort, but when she reached the bottom, she spoke in a voice so booming that Valerie couldn’t fathom how it came out of her small frame.

“She’s here!” The woman announced, pinning Valerie with her stare. “At last, I can deliver my final prophecy.” She wound her way through the kneeling group and stopped in front of Valerie. Up close, Valerie could see that her darkly tanned face was covered in dozens of deep wrinkles. Her pure white hair hung to her waist. “I have waited for you. Your need called to me across the universe, across the centuries. I was so afraid you would not make it to this place to hear your prophecy until after I was gone.”

A murmur of astonishment rushed across the room. Valerie was mesmerized as she stared into the woman’s blue eyes, the widest she had ever seen. This couldn’t be anyone other than Pythia.

“Guess you weren’t too good to deliver Val’s prophecy after all. Turns out she was too good for you,” Kanti whispered to Putrefus. Putrefus grunted, but he didn’t reply.

Pythia clasped Valerie’s hands in her own and pulled her gently into the circles in the middle of the room. Then she sat on the stool in the center, sighing with relief as she rested. Only then did she release Valerie’s hands.

Valerie knelt before Pythia, whose eyes darted around the room, as if she was watching a scene unfold before her eyes, trying to absorb every detail. Then, all of the frailty that Valerie had seen in the old woman dropped away, and before her stood not an old woman, but a force of nature, the Oracle. She exuded power, and it hummed inside of Valerie more strongly than she had ever felt before, causing her entire body to tremble. Pythia now sat board-straight, and her voice echoed as she spoke.

“Before your eyes, two destinies unfurl.

Both are full of adventure, love, and loss.

The path you choose will impact both of your worlds,

But be forewarned, each choice has a cost.

“The cry for help across the universe

Is your own brother’s frightened, desperate peal.

Answer his call to save a life that’s cursed.

A family divided now can heal.

“When sister and brother unite power,

Though war may rage with those who seek to rule,

The ones who wield fear will now cower,

Though they try to use you as their tool.

“When blood calls blood, answer its thrumming call.

Know that with one false step we all will fall.”

As Valerie listened, her heart seemed to expand in her chest. Did this mean Henry was her brother? That she wasn’t alone in the universe, as she had always thought? Terror and joy clashed inside of her. She had one family member left after all, but he was in terrible danger.

But before she could process her emotions, she saw Pythia slump on her stool. She swayed, and Valerie leapt up and caught her before she crashed onto the floor. The hush in the temple transformed into an uproar. The Conjurors rushed to the edge of the circle, but no one stepped inside the rings.

“Help! Someone help her!” Valerie cried in horror. Then she leaned down and whispered softly, “I’m so sorry.”

“Do not fret, child,” she replied weakly, putting her hand on Valerie’s face. “I’m content. I foresaw what would happen if you never heard those words, and it was terrible. But I lived long enough to tell you, and the future of the Globe is in your hands now. I know you have it in you to follow the path that will save us all.”

Cyrus and Kanti had ventured inside the circle and were now beside her. Kanti, like Valerie, was crying. Sibyl sped through the crowd, fluttering through the air at a speed that Valerie wouldn’t have believed she was capable of. In seconds, Sibyl was by Pythia’s side.

“Tell me what you need. Anything, and I will do it,” Sibyl said, her voice trembling.

The woman in her arms seemed peaceful, her blue eyes unfocused as she smiled softly. “There is nothing to be done, my Sibyl. It was you who foresaw my end. Is this not how you pictured it?”

Sibyl gently took Pythia out of Valerie’s arms. She cradled her close. “This is how I saw it. With you in my arms,” she said, and tears spilled out of her eyes. “I can’t bear for you to go.”

“I’ll be waiting for you when your time comes, precious one.”

“I love you, Mother,” Sibyl replied.

With a faint smile on her lips, Pythia’s eyes fluttered closed. Sibyl released a melancholy wail that echoed off the walls. It was heartbreaking. “Pythia has departed us forever,” she said to the room, and her cry of pain was echoed by dozens of other voices. “The circle is broken. Enter and help me to prepare her for the beyond.”

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