But some moron invented the legend of three Seers, so for thousands of years everyone who passed into Heaven kept asking to see the third Seer, which really started to piss off the creator to the point that He decided to make a third eighteen years ago. Cass was born a day later, which makes us the same age. You probably have a million questions now."
I raised my brows, my mind still churning the details. Yep, I had lots of questions, but they had nothing to do with her. What did God look like? What was He like? Did every deceased soul get to talk to Him?
"Any questions? Don't be shy," Patricia said.
I strained my mind to come up with something that involved her and was very proud of myself when it did. "How were you created exactly?"
Patricia tapped a finger against her chin, thinking. "Uh, can't really remember. Must have slipped my mind. Anything else you wanna know?"
"What's God like?" I blurted out.
"Can't tell you," Patricia said.
I frowned. "Why not?"
She waved her left hand about. "Because we have rules and I'm not breaking them."
"Fair enough." I nodded, slightly disappointed. I mean, what was the big deal? She could at least give me a hint or two.
"You'll meet Him soon enough," Patricia whispered.
My head shot up. "What?"
"She's an idiot," Cass said, patting my hand. I regarded Patricia intently, but she turned away, hiding the expression on her face. My heart started to hammer in my chest. A Seer's someone who can foretell the future. I wondered whether she had just made a general remark or whether she saw my imminent death. Now that wasn't a promising outlook.
"She's actually the second most useless Seer I've ever met," Cass said, pouring herself more elderberry juice.
"Who's the most useless?" Thrain asked, amused.
"My aunt Krista. That lot couldn't predict the future if her life depended on it." Cass downed the glass in one big gulp and placed it back on the table. Her face turned dead serious, and I knew she was about to disclose why we came here. "Hey, Patty, what do you know about voodoo?"
Patricia blinked, taken aback. "What I've seen on TV, like piercing needles into a doll and falling into a trance with your eyes rolling back while talking with a weird voice in an ancient language."
Whoa, was that what would happen to me? I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. I thought being a witch meant brewing the odd love potion and speaking out a curse or two.
"That's not voodoo. It's called being possessed," Thrain said, still grinning.
"Oh." She nodded. "Right. Okay, then it's just the needles and the doll. And I remember something about chicken and blood, but that's gross."
Cass smirked. "And there I thought you might actually know something useful , like how to help a voodoo priestess get in touch with her powers."
"Is she one?" Patricia jumped up from her seat and walked around the table, stopping behind me. I felt her smooth hands on my shoulders, then on my cheeks and on my shoulders again. "I can feel her powers. She has been marked."
I held my breath, waiting for her to reveal more, but she remained quiet.
"By what? And shouldn't you have seen that the moment she entered your property?" Cass asked, impatiently.
Patricia's hands remained glued to my shoulders as she whispered, "By something very powerful." I felt Thrain's sudden tension. It passed on to me as though we were the same being. Words unspoken hovered at the back of my mind. I knew they were his, I could almost grasp their meaning and yet they kept slipping my perception.
"Could you be more specific?" Cass asked, irritated.
Patricia shook her head. "That's about as far as my powers go. Ask me in a few days when I turn eighteen and I might be able to help more."
Cass scoffed. "That's awesome news, particularly since we don't have any time to spare. Dallas is dead in less than a week unless we can figure out how to unleash her powers."
"Give me some credit," Patricia snapped, her eyes sparkling. "At least I can tell
I raised my brows, my mind still churning the details. Yep, I had lots of questions, but they had nothing to do with her. What did God look like? What was He like? Did every deceased soul get to talk to Him?
"Any questions? Don't be shy," Patricia said.
I strained my mind to come up with something that involved her and was very proud of myself when it did. "How were you created exactly?"
Patricia tapped a finger against her chin, thinking. "Uh, can't really remember. Must have slipped my mind. Anything else you wanna know?"
"What's God like?" I blurted out.
"Can't tell you," Patricia said.
I frowned. "Why not?"
She waved her left hand about. "Because we have rules and I'm not breaking them."
"Fair enough." I nodded, slightly disappointed. I mean, what was the big deal? She could at least give me a hint or two.
"You'll meet Him soon enough," Patricia whispered.
My head shot up. "What?"
"She's an idiot," Cass said, patting my hand. I regarded Patricia intently, but she turned away, hiding the expression on her face. My heart started to hammer in my chest. A Seer's someone who can foretell the future. I wondered whether she had just made a general remark or whether she saw my imminent death. Now that wasn't a promising outlook.
"She's actually the second most useless Seer I've ever met," Cass said, pouring herself more elderberry juice.
"Who's the most useless?" Thrain asked, amused.
"My aunt Krista. That lot couldn't predict the future if her life depended on it." Cass downed the glass in one big gulp and placed it back on the table. Her face turned dead serious, and I knew she was about to disclose why we came here. "Hey, Patty, what do you know about voodoo?"
Patricia blinked, taken aback. "What I've seen on TV, like piercing needles into a doll and falling into a trance with your eyes rolling back while talking with a weird voice in an ancient language."
Whoa, was that what would happen to me? I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. I thought being a witch meant brewing the odd love potion and speaking out a curse or two.
"That's not voodoo. It's called being possessed," Thrain said, still grinning.
"Oh." She nodded. "Right. Okay, then it's just the needles and the doll. And I remember something about chicken and blood, but that's gross."
Cass smirked. "And there I thought you might actually know something useful , like how to help a voodoo priestess get in touch with her powers."
"Is she one?" Patricia jumped up from her seat and walked around the table, stopping behind me. I felt her smooth hands on my shoulders, then on my cheeks and on my shoulders again. "I can feel her powers. She has been marked."
I held my breath, waiting for her to reveal more, but she remained quiet.
"By what? And shouldn't you have seen that the moment she entered your property?" Cass asked, impatiently.
Patricia's hands remained glued to my shoulders as she whispered, "By something very powerful." I felt Thrain's sudden tension. It passed on to me as though we were the same being. Words unspoken hovered at the back of my mind. I knew they were his, I could almost grasp their meaning and yet they kept slipping my perception.
"Could you be more specific?" Cass asked, irritated.
Patricia shook her head. "That's about as far as my powers go. Ask me in a few days when I turn eighteen and I might be able to help more."
Cass scoffed. "That's awesome news, particularly since we don't have any time to spare. Dallas is dead in less than a week unless we can figure out how to unleash her powers."
"Give me some credit," Patricia snapped, her eyes sparkling. "At least I can tell
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