Prophecy of the Twins

“Lawrence, hear to me nearly, ” the foreseer’s voice rasped as she leaned over the bombarded table in the candlelit chamber. I sat there, heart pounding, feeling the weight of every choice I’d ever made pressing down on me. The air was thick with incense and the unmistakable aroma of old magic, and as her eyes — mysterious pools of argentine — met mine, I knew that nothing would ever be the same.

“ Who are you? ” I managed to ask, my voice slightly steady ...