Free Dragon Stones by James V. Viscosi

was to discreetly record everything that transpired during a session, but she doubted the twins had brought anyone in to write down their nefarious plans.
    She heard a gentle rapping at the door as she was pulling on her boots.  Not the twins, she thought; they wouldn't bother to knock.  She finished adjusting her clothing, stood, and went to the door.  "What is it?" she said.
    A voice from the other side said:  "I heard you moving around.  Would you like some food?"
    "Yes, please."  Tolaria had had nothing to eat since arriving at the castle; at first she had simply refused all the meals that the twins had sent up to her, and then she had spent an unknown length of time lying insensate in bed.  Now she was ravenous, and willing to abandon her hunger strike.  It hadn't accomplished much anyway.
    She stepped back as the lock turned and the door opened.  A guard entered, bearing a tray of bread and cubed cheeses, dried fruit and meat, and a clay flagon.  He brought it to the table near the window and set it down, watching as she descended on the food with the abandon of a starving beggar, ripping off hunks of bread and mashing them around pieces of cheese, washing the huge mouthfuls down with gulps of water from the flagon.
    "I'm sorry the food is a bit stale," he said, apologizing for something that Tolaria hadn't even noticed.  "I was told it would be a long time before you woke up, but I was starting to think they had killed you."
    "How long was I unconscious?" she said, her words muffled by a mouthful of bread.
    "A day and a half."  The guard hesitated, glancing at the door.  "I've heard that you are an oracle."
    "I am."
    "Is it true, what they say?"
    She stopped eating, looked at him.  "I don't know.  What do they say?"
    "That if you harm or waylay an oracle, you'll go mad."
    Tolaria had hoped for this opportunity; the twins were too worldly to influence, but she could play up the possibility of supernatural retribution with this man and let him spread the word among the guards and servants.  Eventually, someone might decide the risk was too great and help her escape.
    "Well?  Is it true?"
    She opened her mouth to encourage his fears, and said:  "No, it's not true."  Then, startled by her own words, she took a drink of sour water from the flagon.
    "It's not?"
    "No.  It is a common superstition, and encouraged by oracles for our own protection, but it has no basis in fact."  She turned back to the table and put her hands on either side of her head.  Why was she saying these things?
    "But everyone has heard stories about highwaymen who rob an oracle and are struck blind, about kings who imprison oracles and lose their minds.  Aren't those stories true?"
    "No.  They are apocryphal at best."
    Now he looked confused.  "What does that mean?"
    "It means they are of doubtful origin, and probably false.  The events likely never actually occurred, and if they did, their correlation to the attack on an oracle is merely coincidental."
    Why was she telling this man the truth?  Why was she answering him at all?  She put a piece of jerky in her mouth, chewed it worriedly, hoping he would stop asking questions.
    The guard watched her eat for a little while, then said:  "How do I know you're not just telling me this because you want us all to go crazy?"
    "You don't.  But I would rather be set free than remain a prisoner, so why would I lie?"
    The guard pondered this, scratching his stubbly beard.  At length, he said, "Why would you tell the truth?"
    "I don't know," Tolaria said.  She had lost her appetite and pushed the tray away from her.  "I'm not hungry anymore."
    "Keep it.  You'll want more later."
    She looked up at him.  "I would still appreciate it if you'd help me escape."
    The man scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable in her presence now.  He probably thought she was mad.  "I don't know if you're telling the truth or not, but the princes would have my head if I let you go, and that's for