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Zodak’s breath stilled within him as he saw how every picture formed a giant portrait of him and his new brother. Then, like the digital photograph book when looking into Seer, his eyes landed on an image. He hurried to it and picked it up, staring at it. It was King Rukem’s syphon and it held the coin he’d seen. Who had he syphoned after Rukem? Vex. He searched the pile and finally found it, picking it up. His pulse leapt at finding another coin on it. This one with nothing on its face.
“The coins are all here, she saw all the coins,” he muttered, looking for the rest of the Kings’ syphons. “But they are blank.”
“What are you seeing, brother?” Nidev called.
“She saw the coming coins,” he marveled. “They were in the syphons, but I did not see all of them. Only King Rukem’s.”
“Because of the timeline,” Dalk remembered. “The coins would not be shown until their time.”
When he collected up all thirteen images, he laid them out in the order he’d syphoned the Kings.
“That’s the same order she touched us,” Lore said.
“And the same order we were named the 13 prophetic kings,” Nidev added in awe.
“The coins will come in this order,” Zodak was sure. “And every King is somehow responsible for each coin.”
“Responsible how?” Bishop wondered.
“I don’t know yet,” Zodak mused. “But we need to try to discern the one on Rukem’s.”
“Yes,” Nidev said. “We will all be working on it.”
“How will we know when the coins will come to the other Kings?” Alerik wondered.
“Will it be a week, a month, a year?” Vex echoed.
“Good question,” Seer said, peering at Rukem’s page.
“What about our Bayou Brothers?” Vale asked. “They seem to have a part in this.”
“We we’re all paired with a King,” Spook said behind them.
“But that wasn’t for this,” Feral assured, bringing a chuckle from their Bishop.
“You sure about that Mon Frere?”
“Indeed,” the Seer agreed. “If this is a prophetic thing, then events will come about in a seemingly unplanned manner.”
“But why us with the Kings?” The Hurricane man wondered.
“Originally, we were exchanginggifts,” the Bullets man grumbled. “Protection for our gifted.”
“That is correct,” Nidev said. “Then came the idea of pairings from Bishops’ wife. An exchange of mentoring. The Kings mentored the gifted and the Twelve guided the Kings’ journey into the civilian realm to better learn the subject we were failing in.”
“Not to beat another man’s dead horse, but what exactly was that again?” Bishop asked.
“Matchmaking,” Bullets said. “Their matchmaking skills sucked because they had no clue about all that goes into it on account they’re celibateand have kept themselves apart.”
“You speak like you have no experience with such detachments, marsh brother,” Feral muttered, revealing a disdain to Zodak’s ears.
“I think he’s suffering with blue ball syndrome,” Dalk thought with a chuckle.
“Whatever our marsh brother had was resolved by our gifted Mia,” Alerik said.
“She ain’tours,Vicki. She’sall mine.”
“Mon Freres,” Bishop snapped, his authority a sharp whip. “Keep the pissing contests out of this for now. I want to know what the hell is coming our way. What do these coins mean for us. How do we prepare.”
