Fated (The Soul Seekers #1)(36)
“The first few days will prove difficult, as you will soon see. Sugar is a powerful substance and highly addictive. But it won’t be long before you start to feel better, stronger, and healthier in body, mind, and spirit. The results will be so pleasing, I’ve no doubt this new way of eating will become second nature. But if not, if you find the opposite to be true, I’m afraid you must find a way to live with it. There is really no choice in the matter.”
“But … why?” My face scrunches in a way meant to convey that not only do I object, but I also doubt the validity of what she just said. It reminds me of the carb-free cult all the celebrities embrace before a big shoot, regarding the bread basket as their number-one enemy. “Other than my injuries, which are almost all healed, I’m healthy. So I really don’t understand what difference the occasional Coke or candy bar can make.”
Paloma pushes away from the table and heads up the brick ramp to her office. Motioning for me to take a seat at the square wooden table, as she fills a small copper pot with bottled water, sets it on a single burner, and busies herself with pinching off bits of dried herbs hanging from a multitude of overhead hooks.
She rolls the pieces between her forefinger and thumb, singing a soft, lilting tune I can’t quite decipher. Then she drops the tiny herb balls, one by one, into the pot, adding a small dark stone she retrieves from the soft buckskin pouch she wears at her neck.
The rock landing with an audible plop, when she says, “We hail from an ancient line of shamans.”
I stare at her back, face scrunched in disbelief. “Shamans?” I shake my head, trying to tame my annoyance, reminding myself to be patient, to give her a chance. Surely that’s not what she meant. “I thought you said we were Seekers?” I frown, doubting I’ll ever get used to the random things she says. From the moment I arrived I’ve been in a state of perpetual confusion, and I’m beginning to doubt it will end.
Paloma shrugs off her cardigan, drops it onto the counter beside her, returning to pot stirring when she says, “Shamans, medicine men, healers, Light Workers, seers, mystics, miracle workers, those who know, those who can see in the dark—” Her shoulders rise and fall. “Different names for what is essentially the same thing at heart.” She glances over her shoulder, ensuring I heard before she gets back to stirring. “Shamanic concepts date back thousands of years—its origins have been traced to Siberia when a shaman’s primary role was to care for the community. To maintain the well-being of the tribe by providing healing when needed, tending to the weather to ensure the availability of crops and food, leading sacred ceremonies, serving as the primary link between this world and the spirit world, and more. It was a revered and sacred role—a calling of the highest order. Fanned out across several continents, separated by great bodies of water with no way to communicate—their ceremonies and rituals were found to be shockingly familiar. Though unfortunately, in later years, when we all became civilized,” she forms air quotes around the word, “shamans were persecuted and forced into hiding. They were deemed witch doctors, sorcerers, accused of conjuring evil. They were said to be dangerous, when really they were just misunderstood by those too ignorant to look past their own narrow concepts of how the world works. Ignorance is one of the greatest evils known to man.” She turns to me, her dark eyes flashing. “With ego and greed trailing a very close second and third.”
She tends to the pot, giving it a few more stirs before placing a strainer over the top and pouring the brew into a mug. Then, grabbing a pair of small tongs, she lifts out the wet, steaming stone and places it on the table before me.
“Over the years, the role has evolved, and the name along with it. Among our kind, we are now known as Seekers. We are Seekers of the truth—Seekers of the spirit—Seekers of the light—Seekers of the soul. And it is our job, our calling, our destiny, to keep things in balance—a balance that requires us to walk in the spirit worlds just as easily as we walk in this world. There was a time when keeping the balance was much simpler, but those days are gone. And, to answer your original question of why, the ability to walk between the worlds depends on your commitment to purifying yourself, both inside and out. Which, my sweet nieta, begins with your diet.”
She peers into the mug and inhales deeply. Then, deeming it ready, she places it before me and says, “And now you must drink.”
I screw my mouth to the side and stare hard at the mug. Not entirely on board with her agenda but not wanting to reject it outright and end up like Django either. The horrific image of my father’s battered, bloodied head hanging from a spike and screaming to get my attention providing all the motivation I need to empty the cup until there’s not a single drop left. Surprised to find the liquid offers a comforting warmth as it slips down my throat, and though the aftertaste is bitter, I don’t really mind it.
“There is much more to the world than it seems,” Paloma says, returning to her seat. “It is actually made up of three worlds—the Upperworld, the Lowerworld, and the Middleworld. Each of those worlds consists of many dimensions—including the Middleworld, which is the one you are used to—the one we reside in during our normal, daily lives. Though most people never look past the surface—never realize it’s populated by unseen forces that influence their lives in ways they could never imagine. What you see is not what you get, nieta. In each of those worlds you will find many lovely, compassionate beings available to help you on your various quests. They’ll appear in the form of animals, humans, mythological creatures, even something as simple as a blade of grass is able to help us. Everything has its own energy—its own life force—and someday you will communicate with the earth and its elements as easily as you communicate with me—all in good time.” She looks at me, her fingers steepled, fingertips pressed tightly together. “I know you might feel a little overwhelmed by it all, it’s a lot to take in. That’s why it’s important for you to remember that you are never alone. I will serve as your guide, though I’m not so much here to teach you as to help you retrieve what you already know deep down inside.”