On Christmas Eve Valentino took Sergio, Isabella, and the twins down into the valley (where it was only a little warmer) to the San Francis de Assisi Chapel. The Muggles there looked haggard and worried, barely sparing glimpses for the strangers to their town.
The candles in the chapel burned brightly and evergreen garlands were strung everywhere. The wind swirled snow passed the stain-glass windows, but not even their howling could compete with the sheer desperation of prayers within the chapel.
The Muggles may not know exactly what was going on farther south, but that only made their fear worse. They knelt and bowed their heads, fingering their rosaries and their lips moving silently in prayer. Isabella had never seen a less jolly Christmas.
"Il Gesù Cristo, mi ha misericordia," the dark-eyed woman sitting next to Isabella mumbled. Her head was bent and she rocked back and forth, clutching her prayer beads to her lips. "Il Signore ha misericordia."
The choir began the familiar tune and Isabella joined the rest of the congregation in singing Adeste Fidelis. After the service was finished and the rest of the village hurried out into the snow, bundled in scarves and overcoats, the woman still sat there. She had not moved the entire service, nor had she ceased her whispered prayers.
When everyone else was gone, Valentino touched the woman's shoulder. She started, as though unaware she had not been alone.
"Pace," he told her. "You are safe here." The woman made no response save to shake her head.
"It is all right," Valentino tried again. "You are a witch, aren't you?" The woman closed her eyes tightly and nodded. Without warning, her eyes snapped back open, bright green and glowing.
Sitting up straight, she put her hand in a drawstring bag at her hip and pulled out a handful of pewter stones, which she cast on the pew beside her.
Without looking at the stones, she began to recite:
"Tonight the snake bites
Tonight the boy fights
Tonight the wand lights.
Soon the lioness goes
Soon the black darkness grows
Soon the sun's bright cock crows."
Valentino stumbled back. This was no witch, this was an oracle. The seers of Delphi worship only their god Apollo and Hecate the Magnificent. They were able to foretell the future without the aid of crystal balls or tea leaves required by their less gifted cousins. The oracles were mysterious, eccentric, and frightening.
This one blinked and her eyes were dark once more. Immediately she hunched over and examined the cast runes.
"The snake," she said, pointing to one of the pewter tiles. "Deceit. The Hero" - another tiled rune - "in connection with the snake. The wand... power? Or combat? The lion who is not a lion... the darkness not unknown... the dawn that follows night." The oracle scooped up the runes and tucked them back in the bag. Her rosary swung from her neck as she stood and retrieved a walking stick. Upon the staff a great carved python curled with bright gemstones for its eyes. Seeing the four of them standing, staring at her, she glanced over them. Her eyes lit upon Isabella and she murmured yet again, "The lion who is not a lion."
Then the oracle shuffled down the aisle and out into the night, disappearing into darkness.
"A Delphic Oracle in a Catholic Church," Valentino said, crossing himself. "No wonder she was praying for mercy."
AN: This will be my last post before Christmas. I hope you all have happy holidays.