Page 15 of Professor and the Seer
“Mom called it a blessing from a god. She just doesn’t know which one.”
“The markings you bear would reinforce that theory and would further explain why all three of you were gifted.”
“You believe in gods?”
“Don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Yes and no. I mean, yeah, we’ve got these powers and tattoos, but maybe there’s a natural explanation. After all, it’s not like we’ve ever met a god.” Although I did hear the occasional voice in my head. Again, not something I felt comfortable admitting because what if it wasn’t a god I heard but my own insanity?
“They exist, but they don’t often show themselves. Especially to humans who tend to kill the things that frighten them.”
“You can kill a god?” I couldn’t hold in my surprise.
“No, but you can damage them. Hurt them enough and a god will be forced to hibernate to recover. Breaking them into enough pieces and scattering them makes it so that they’re more or less dead. Or so the history books claim,” he added with a shrug.
“What do you think?”
“I think there is probably some truth in all of it. Even in the belief that the arcane powers come from a parasite.”
“A bug!”
He chuckled. “More like those with abilities carry a piece of the deity that blessed them. Passed down by a parent. Gifted by the god themselves.”
“If gifted, wouldn’t that god want recognition for it?” I’d never understood why no one could tell us who blessed us on our sixteenth. Most likely our matching tattoos explained it, only no one could translate what they said.
“Not all gods seek attention.”
“I thought a god needed worship to be strong. Don’t they fade away without belief?”
He snorted. “More Hollywood and fictional hearsay.”
“Would I recognize a god if I met one?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Never actually met any in person. Not sure I want to. If history is to be believed, many of them are petty. Even to their avatars.”
“Avatars?”
“A person they’ve blessed and use as their voice amongst people. History has had a few. The most famous being Jesus, the Dalai Lama, Moses…”
“All people who preached the word of their gods,” I murmured.
A firefly suddenly emerged from the woods, a glowing speck that zipped to a spot in front of us before exploding into harmless sparks. Dina’s signal.
“It’s time,” I announced, trying to not cringe.
John squeezed my hand. I’d not even noticed he’d been holding it this entire time, even as I should have given how the world around me had remained quiet.
He smiled at me. “Don’t look so worried. After all, you already said I don’t die here today, which means neither do you.”
It reassured and, at the same time, didn’t because, in that moment, it hit me.
I’m falling in love.
5
John
Something about Frieda brought out the protector in John. Her fragile nature and the way she bravely hid how hard she fought to stay in control touched him. Then there was the way she relaxed when he was near. He knew he didn’t imagine it because the lines of tension in her eased. She even smiled when he bubbled her from seeing the future. When she grabbed his hand that first time, he’d been touched. Not just physically but emotionally as well, because he knew from chatting with her sisters, and in observing Frieda, that she didn’t get close to people.