Fated

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.”
    I glance around the room, taking in shelves filled with tonics, potions, all manner of herbal remedies—while others are crammed with books, rattles, an assortment of crystals and rocks, and a red-painted drum. And though I try to keep an open mind, try to do my best to play along, I have no idea what she means. I’m the kid of a traveling makeup artist—everything I know I learned from a movie set, the Internet, or direct, hands-on experience. Though I never learned anything like this. I’d never even heard of shamans or Seekers until I came here.
    I shake my head, start to protest, but she’s quick to silence me. “Trust me, nieta —all the knowledge you need is already within you. It’s your ancestral legacy—it’s in the blood that flows through your veins, it’s the pulse in your heartbeat, and it’s my job to help you discover it. It won’t be long before you move between the Upper and Lowerworlds as easily as you move through this Middleworld. You will learn to navigate all the various dimensions until you know them quite well. When the time is right, you will make the trip physically, but for now there are several steps that must first be completed. So this journey, your first journey, will be a soul journey. It will feel like a dream, though I assure you it’s real. It will prove to be both profound and revelatory, and one you will not easily forget. Its purpose is for you to connect with your spirit animal—the one you will grow quite close to and come to rely on. He will show himself three times, that’s how you’ll know it is him, and so you must pay very close attention. This is the first and last time you will drink this brew, and the things you see and experience are never to be revealed to anyone but me. This is imperative in ensuring your safety. So tell me, nieta —how are you feeling? Are you ready to make the journey?”
    I struggle to answer. Struggle to slog through the words. My head’s filled with fog, my mouth stuffed with cotton, allowing nothing more than a muffled groan to creep forth.
    And the next thing I know, my fingers fold around the small black stone, my face meets the table, and my soul leaps from my body, traveling faster than sound.

fifteen
    I stand before a tree—a very tall tree with a large, gaping hole gouged in its trunk. A tree that I recognize from the time Jennika and I went zip-lining in the Costa Rican cloud forest.
    But this time, instead of climbing the inside ladder to reach the platform above, I duck into the hole and tunnel deep into the earth. Careening along a root system so far-reaching and complex, it reminds me of long, spindly, tangled-up fingers with no conceivable end.
    I’m enveloped in darkness—a dank wind slapping hard at my cheeks, stuffing