Read Online Prophecy of the Sisters by Michelle Zink - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Zink
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to the lake.
I hurry to catch her and am breathless when I finally reach her side.
“Won’t you answer?”
She sighs, looking over at me as we walk. “Yes, all right? I’ve done it before. I’ve been doing it since I was a child. Some
people do it without realizing it, thinking they are dreaming, for example. Others can do it on command. Many, actually. Many
people in my world anyway.”
She says this as if we are not walking side by side on the very same ground, as if she occupies some strange corner of the
universe, invisible and unreachable to me.
“In your world? Whatever do you mean?”
She laughs a little. “Are we not from different worlds, Lia? You live in a grand house, surrounded by the family and things
you hold dear. I live in a small house governed by Mrs. Mill-burn, with only the company of other spiritualists and those
who pay us to describe the things they cannot see.”
Her words silence my questions. “I… I’m sorry, Sonia. I suppose I didn’t realize it wasn’t your home, that the woman, Mrs.…
uh, Mrs. Millburn was not your… relative.”
Even from her profile, I see the flash of anger in her eyes. “For goodness’ sake! Don’t pity me! I’m quite content with the
way things are.”
But she does not sound content. Not really.
We finally reach the rise, that last invigorating moment when we step onto the top of the hill making me feel, as always,
that I have stepped into the sky. Despite all that has happened on this ridge, it is impossible not to appreciate the majesty
of the view.
“Oh! I didn’t know there was a lake here!” In Sonia’s voice is the awe of a child, and I realize she mustn’t be much older
than I. She takes in the view — the lake, shimmering below us, the trees swaying in a breeze too soft for autumn.
“It’s well hidden. Even I don’t come here much, actually.”
Because my mother fell from this cliff,
I think.
Because her broken body lay on the rocks of the lapping lake below. Because I simply cannot bear it.
I gesture to a large rock set back from the edge. “Shall we sit?”
She nods, still unable to remove her eyes from the call of the water below. We settle side by side on the boulder, the hems
of our skirts touching over the dusty ground. I have questions. But they are unfathomable things, dark shapes that swim just
below the surface of my consciousness.
“I knew you were coming.” She says this simply, as if I should know exactly what she means.
“What? What do you —”
“Yesterday. At the sitting. I knew it would be you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
She looks right into my eyes in the way that only Alice ever has. As if she knows me. “Lately, when I try to hold a sitting,
I close my eyes and all I see is your face. Your face and… well, many strange things I don’t usually see.”
“But we have never seen each other before yesterday! How could you possibly see my face in your… in your visions?”
She stares toward the lake. “There is only one reason I can think of.… Only one reason why I would see you, why you would
come.”
She turns her face from the lake, looking down and avoiding my eyes as she removes the glove covering her left hand.
She lays the glove across her lap, pulling the sleeve of her gown up over her wrist.
“It’s because of this, is it not? Because of the mark?”
It is there. The unmistakable circle, the slithering snake.
Just like mine. Just like the one on the medallion.
Every cell in my body, every thought in my mind, the very blood in my veins, seems to go still. When everything begins moving
again, it is in a great rush of shock.
“It cannot be. It… May I?” I reach a hand toward her.
She hesitates before nodding, and I take her small hand in mine. I turn it over, knowing without looking a second longer that
the mark is the same. No, not quite the same. Her mark is not red, but one shade lighter than the rest of her skin. It
I hurry to catch her and am breathless when I finally reach her side.
“Won’t you answer?”
She sighs, looking over at me as we walk. “Yes, all right? I’ve done it before. I’ve been doing it since I was a child. Some
people do it without realizing it, thinking they are dreaming, for example. Others can do it on command. Many, actually. Many
people in my world anyway.”
She says this as if we are not walking side by side on the very same ground, as if she occupies some strange corner of the
universe, invisible and unreachable to me.
“In your world? Whatever do you mean?”
She laughs a little. “Are we not from different worlds, Lia? You live in a grand house, surrounded by the family and things
you hold dear. I live in a small house governed by Mrs. Mill-burn, with only the company of other spiritualists and those
who pay us to describe the things they cannot see.”
Her words silence my questions. “I… I’m sorry, Sonia. I suppose I didn’t realize it wasn’t your home, that the woman, Mrs.…
uh, Mrs. Millburn was not your… relative.”
Even from her profile, I see the flash of anger in her eyes. “For goodness’ sake! Don’t pity me! I’m quite content with the
way things are.”
But she does not sound content. Not really.
We finally reach the rise, that last invigorating moment when we step onto the top of the hill making me feel, as always,
that I have stepped into the sky. Despite all that has happened on this ridge, it is impossible not to appreciate the majesty
of the view.
“Oh! I didn’t know there was a lake here!” In Sonia’s voice is the awe of a child, and I realize she mustn’t be much older
than I. She takes in the view — the lake, shimmering below us, the trees swaying in a breeze too soft for autumn.
“It’s well hidden. Even I don’t come here much, actually.”
Because my mother fell from this cliff,
I think.
Because her broken body lay on the rocks of the lapping lake below. Because I simply cannot bear it.
I gesture to a large rock set back from the edge. “Shall we sit?”
She nods, still unable to remove her eyes from the call of the water below. We settle side by side on the boulder, the hems
of our skirts touching over the dusty ground. I have questions. But they are unfathomable things, dark shapes that swim just
below the surface of my consciousness.
“I knew you were coming.” She says this simply, as if I should know exactly what she means.
“What? What do you —”
“Yesterday. At the sitting. I knew it would be you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
She looks right into my eyes in the way that only Alice ever has. As if she knows me. “Lately, when I try to hold a sitting,
I close my eyes and all I see is your face. Your face and… well, many strange things I don’t usually see.”
“But we have never seen each other before yesterday! How could you possibly see my face in your… in your visions?”
She stares toward the lake. “There is only one reason I can think of.… Only one reason why I would see you, why you would
come.”
She turns her face from the lake, looking down and avoiding my eyes as she removes the glove covering her left hand.
She lays the glove across her lap, pulling the sleeve of her gown up over her wrist.
“It’s because of this, is it not? Because of the mark?”
It is there. The unmistakable circle, the slithering snake.
Just like mine. Just like the one on the medallion.
Every cell in my body, every thought in my mind, the very blood in my veins, seems to go still. When everything begins moving
again, it is in a great rush of shock.
“It cannot be. It… May I?” I reach a hand toward her.
She hesitates before nodding, and I take her small hand in mine. I turn it over, knowing without looking a second longer that
the mark is the same. No, not quite the same. Her mark is not red, but one shade lighter than the rest of her skin. It
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