The Oracle's Prophecy

6

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Finished braiding her blonde hair, Riley, or Lee as her family liked to call her, pinned it back then hid it beneath a knitted beanie fished from her dark blue riding coat. Fastidious to the point of obsessive, she then spent the next few minutes double-checking her weapons. The Sekhem fighting staff hidden in her coat, the shotgun holstered to the hip of her trouser-leg and the hunting knife tucked into one of her high-riding boots. Everything had to be easily to hand. She'd been warned about the dangers lurking in the black-market souks and wanted to be ready in case they decided to seek her out.

Still anxious, her fingers by habit reached for the comfort of her mother's signet ring looped on a necklace around her neck. All the Elders of the Torchbearers had been given one, to press into hot wax when sealing their documents. It was stamped with the Torchbearers lit torch symbol, and the words 'Live Free, or Fight On' were inscribed on the inside of the band.

Along with the wedding ring that hung around Cooper's neck, it was all the two girls had from their mother to remember her by. For this reason alone Riley never took it off.

"What are you so nervous about?" Cooper asked as she sat down next to the fire and began spooning food into a bowl.

"I'm not nervous." Riley replied a little too defensively to be believed, then she blushed. She rarely raised her voice so on those occasions when she did it was clear she was agitated.

"Why'd you think that?" She asked trying to sound calmer.

"You looked worried is all." Cooper answered with a wide-yawn, already grown tired of the conversation. Then she pointed at Riley's neck.

"And you're playing with mother's ring. You know father will be upset if he catches you doing that without your gloves on again."

Riley cursed under her breath as she hid the necklace under her shirt. Then she grabbed her gloves from her coat pocket and put them on. Away from the ranch they weren't to touch anything barehanded, especially metal. Second to touching your skin, metal was the best way for the skin-readers to steal your thoughts.

What was it their father said?

"Cover your skin and never let your mind wonder. For they are watching, and listening and hunting, always."

"You know, if you're worried about today, all you have to remember is this." Cooper pointed out with a smile. "Whatever happens, it'll still beat doing chores."

That was Cooper, outgoing, cheeky and effervescent, the rebel of the family, had been since the day she was old enough to crawl. Riley, on the other hand was much more even-keeled. Whereas Cooper was naturally carefree and could be relied upon to engage her mouth before her brain, her sister was far more cautious. They were almost like the tortoise and the hare from the bedtime tale; one slow and methodical, the other impatient and quick.

They shared other differences too, so many in fact it sometimes felt like the only common thread that bound the two girls together was their identical looks. And they were identical; looking at them you'd think no more perfect copies had ever existed.

"If you really want to know, I was wishing father didn't act so worried about us all the time." Riley finally admitted.

"But worrying about us is his favorite pastime, it'd be mean to want to take that away from him." Cooper responded with a sly grin.