Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(7)
“So, how do we start?” I stare at the crystal, eager to get going on the long list of questions crowding my head.
“First, I want you to close your eyes and imagine yourself surrounded by light.”
I stay as I am, lips screwed to the side, doubting the validity of that.
“Whenever you engage in any sort of divining activity, even if you are merely divining the answers within you, you need to protect yourself.”
“Protect myself from what exactly?” I frown, unsure where she’s going with this.
“From dark entities. Lower spirit forms.” She locks eyes with me. “You may not see them, but they’re always lurking, ever-present. They can be found in every dimension of the Middleworld, and they thrive off the energy of others. Which is why you must always take great care to guard against them, and never allow them the chance to latch onto you. They are tricksters. They are capable of causing great harm and will use any opening you give them. So let’s not give them one, okay?”
That’s all I need to snap my eyes shut and envision myself surrounded by a brilliant white nimbus of light.
“Good.” Her voice is soft, pleased. “Now we need to determine which direction indicates a no answer, and which way indicates a yes. So, we’ll start by posing a few simple questions, ones in which we already know the answer, and see how it responds.”
I lower my gaze, staring intently at the small amethyst stone that’s carved into a point at its tip. Trying to keep my voice serious, I say, “Is my name Daire Lyons-Santos?” Watching in amazement as the pendulum begins to sway on its own. At first moving in a slow back-and-forth motion, though it’s not long before it begins to form a clockwise circle, despite the fact that my fingers haven’t moved.
“I think it’s safe to assume that clockwise means yes.” I glance at Paloma who nods in agreement.
“The pendulum should slow on its own, and once it does, you may bring it to a complete stop before venturing a question that you know will result in a no response.”
I focus on the pendulum. So caught up in the excitement of training with Paloma again—of accessing the magick that lies at my fingertips—I decide to ask it a question that will not only result in a resounding no but that already has me laughing when I say, “Pendulum, tell me—am I in love with Cade Richter?”
I press my lips together, trying to keep from grinning, but it’s no use. It’s too ridiculous to contemplate. Besides, Paloma told me to ask a question that will result in an unequivocal no, and the question of me loving Cade definitely fits.
I stare at the pendulum, my mirth quickly turning to confusion when it starts to swing clockwise again. First looping slowly, then swiftly picking up the pace, until that amethyst stone is whirling at a dizzying speed.
Desperate to stop it, I grasp it hard in my palm. Squeezing so hard, its sharp, pointy tip slices the pad of my finger, eliciting a thin stream of blood. “Clearly it’s not working,” I say, my voice lacking the confidence of my words. “Either that, or it has no sense of humor and it’s out to teach me a lesson—”
My rant interrupted by Paloma saying, “The pendulum has only one purpose—to reveal the truth that lives inside you. That is all, nieta.”
I frown, not one bit amused.
“You must never forget that Dace and Cade are a split soul, which makes them two halves of a whole.” Her voice is as gentle as the hand she’s placed on my knee.
“Yeah, two very different halves,” I snap, the words as sharp and bitter as I currently feel. “Dace is good—Cade is evil. Dace I…” I pause, not quite ready to admit to the L word just yet, even though Paloma’s the one who told me we were destined for each other. Starting again when I say, “Dace I care deeply about—Cade I hate.”
I drop the pendulum onto the blanket, and wipe my finger down the leg of my jeans, leaving a light trail of red. Then I reach for the row of feathers, choosing the eagle, the one for sending prayers, eager to move on with the lesson.
“So, how does this work?” I wave it before me. Wanting to move past the pendulum debacle and staring in dismay when Paloma takes it from me and forces the pendulum back in my hand.
“You must try again, nieta. Ask another question this time—one that will definitely result in a no.
“I already did! What’s the point?” I cry, instantly regretting the harsh tone—but, seriously, what is she getting at? “Trust me when I say that me loving Cade is about as ridiculous as it gets. It’s revolting. Grotesque. Completely unfathomable. It’s what nightmares are made of. It’s my own personal version of hell. It’s the definition of no!”
I shake my head and scowl. Muttering a stream of angry words under my breath as Paloma sits patiently beside me, waiting for me to get back to the task. But there’s no way. I’m too tightly wound. Too inflamed by her reaction—choosing to believe some stupid pendulum over what I know to be true.
We sit like that for a while—Paloma in silence, me an angry, fuming wreck. And then it hits me—she’s holding something back.
“What are you not telling me?” I eye her with suspicion. “What’s going on here—what’s this really about?”
I rise to my feet, knees shaking so badly I fight to regain my balance. “Tell me!” I insist, the words hissed between clenched teeth. “Just say it, whatever it is. Because I promise you, whatever I’m thinking is way worse than the truth could ever reveal itself to be.”