Page 91 of He Who Sleeps

“Because our blood is purer,” Emerson said. “Technically there’s thirteen legacy families, the thirteen that He anointed and blessed when he walked the earth.” Emerson looked to them. “Though I understand there’s more than that, families that sprang from individuals he called after, once he had slept.” He sighed. “Regardless of religion, it’s all dogma. But suffice to say that it’s a safe bet those sitting at Elder spots are not part of the original thirteen, aside from Stephan.”

"But if He called families after, how do we know that He didn't just call Petra?" Carter asked, shaking his head. "I think that whole line of questioning is just going to have to wait until I can look into this orphanage and figure it out once and for all. If she is Order, then it's fine, and we can all carry on as one murderous little family. If she's newly called, then we induct her into The Order when the Elders have been deposed."

"Killed," Easton corrected, not even turning around.

"Carter's right," Finn said. "We could talk ourselves round in circles until dawn and still not figure out if our beauty here is Order or not. But if you want to try kissing and bleeding, Emerson, be my guest."

Emerson shrugged. “Just ideas, guys. Trying to be proactive.”

“We aren’t getting anywhere all being in this room, well except on each other’s nerves,” she offered and got to her feet. “And it stands to reason that the study and library would hold much but nothing that he wanted to hide. I’m going to the kitchen to get a drink.”

"Maybe splitting up is a good idea," Finn agreed with her.

"Hold up," Carter made them both stop. "What if we're thinking about this backwards? Am I right in thinking that every time we've been touched or contacted by the God, it's either been at night or while we're sleeping?" The others looked at each other and shrugged. "I wonder if that's because the veil is thinner at night. Or maybe we're more susceptible in a dream state. Completely aside from the question of Petra's origins, what if being in some kind of altered state would allow Him to contact us more easily?"

Jack looked to her and then to the group. “Meditation? I mean it could get us to that more altered state. Skeezie Keezie talks about transcendence through both meditative states and euphoric states, though I think the secondary might be because she wants to nail Petra...” He grinned.

"Well then maybe a couple of you could go and meditate? Or take a nap?" Finn suggested.

“Well that depends on if Easton thinks that’s the best use of our time.” Jack teased.

"At least Carter is using some kind of logic, based on empirical evidence," Easton shrugged, moving onto the next shelf. "Do what you want. There might not even be anything else here to find. Just leave me out of it."

“Technically I was using evidence-based ideas as well,” Emerson said as he leaned against the bookshelf. “We are dealing with a God here, one we all worship, and I kinda think that while Carter is right, science and this world is not the answer...the spectral is,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Maybe a melding of it.” He looked to Carter, then to the rest. “What do you think?”

"Isn't that exactly what I just suggested?" Carter asked. "An altered state of consciousness would be considered spiritual by a lot of people. Many indigenous cultures use drugs to attain that level of communion with their spirits and deities. The two aren't mutually exclusive."

“True,” she said. “I don’t think we need mushrooms or anything...”

Emerson smirked. “So, a nap? Who is coming?”

Rix, who had been on the top of the ladder on the bookshelf, jumped down. “I’m going to go check the attic.” He went to her and kissed her forehead. “Have fun.” He winked and walked off.

"I don't sleep in the day, but if you guys don't have any luck, I'm okay with hitting the weed later," Easton chuckled. "I keep a small stash for when the creative juices aren't flowing. I'm guessing that might be altered enough."

"Were you high when you painted Petra?" Finn asked curiously.

"Hard to say," Easton shrugged. "Each artwork takes weeks or months. I might have smoked once or twice during the time I was painting them, but I have no idea."

That was interesting to her. She smiled at him. “Good to know I’m a muse when you are high.” She winked and then sighed. “I’m going to get my drink, then I think I’m going to go and sit in the solarium and try this meditation thing.”

"Good luck." Easton winked at her. "I'll be here, probably still searching all these thousands of feet of bookshelves."

“I think we need to stop looking in books, and figure out if there’s more hidden caches around the house,” Jack said and looked to Emerson. “You know of any secret passages or rooms?”

Emerson shook his head. “I didn’t know about his little hidden vault in the wall so...”

"There must be blueprints somewhere." Carter slid the book he'd been paging through back onto the shelf and headed for the door. "I'll go boot up my computer and see if I can find the planning applications or who the original architects were. This place isn't that old. They might still have the original floorplans."

"I'll head out to the hardware store," Leo said. "If we need to measure rooms against plans, I'd rather have one of those laser tools."

"Wow... Leo, using your brain instead of your balls...I'm impressed," Easton teased him. "But good thinking."

“Well then that’s a plan.” She smiled. “I’m off. If you find anything...”

“And if you figure anything out...” Emerson said with a smirk.

---