“They always say that, in the beginning. Until they grow tired from moving city to city. Until they travel below the Mountains and are confronted with the evil of their people face-to-face.”
It’s true that Luca has not traveled with Gomorrah long enough for him to reach the Down-Mountains. It’s difficult to picture him wearing anything but his structured, crisp Up-Mountain clothes. I smile at the image of him roaming the Forty Deserts in his velvet vest.
Nevertheless, I also cannot picture him leaving, and I don’t feel like continuing this discussion with Kahina. “I was wondering if you’d do a reading for me,” I say.
“About your new friend, perhaps?”
“Yes.” It was only a week and a half ago that Kahina saw nothing in my romantic future, but that seems to have changed. Would she see Luca’s name written in my tea leaves now?
“I’ll grab the coin pot,” she says, though it’s across the room on one of her shelves.
“No tea leaves?”
“I have a good feeling about the coins.”
“I’ll get it.” I stand and pluck it off the shelf. It’s covered in glossy black paint and red symbols that match those on the coins inside. It rattles as I hand it to her. I love the sound of the coins, of the anticipation of what might fall out.
Kahina rubs the bottom of the jar in circles. “Your friend Luca? It’s hard for me to picture him. Perhaps because I’ve never met him...” she says and then gives it to me hesitantly. “Picture him and give it a go. But I can’t promise the reading will be detailed. He seems quite cloudy, in my mind.”
I shake it a few times before turning it over. A single dark coin falls out, barely the size of my fingernail. On one side is a wolf’s claw and on the other, the three streaks made from a claw tearing through earth or flesh. I don’t have the gift of fortune-work, but, even to me, the coin feels cold and dead.
Kahina takes the coin hesitantly, as if not wanting to touch it. “You were thinking of Luca when you shook the jar?”
“Yes.”
“There’s no hint of him on this coin. I cannot see him in your fortune at all.” Her face softens as she watches mine. “I’m sorry. Were you hoping I would?”
“I’m confused, I guess,” I say. The kiss aside, I’ve been with Luca the past several nights, and I’ll be with him again for many more. How could his fortune be so distant from my own?
“This coin means impending doom,” she says. “The Were’s Claw.”
My heart stutters for a moment. “You don’t think...another illusion—”
“It’s difficult to say when everything is so cloudy. You know I cannot tell fortunes for your illusions. Perhaps the Were’s Claw references the wars brewing around us. Or perhaps it does refer to Luca, and I’m having trouble seeing it.”
I frown. If Luca is about to encounter trouble, the chances of it being associated with me are low. He spends his free time befriending assassins and the like, and I can hardly be the only person his personality has—at some point—rubbed the wrong way.
“Do you see anything more?” I ask her.
“It’s unclear. Perhaps the vision is clouding because Luca is an Up-Mountainer, and the entire fate of this area balances on the edge of a knife. It feels as though Gomorrah cannot move fast enough to outrun what will happen if the Up-Mountain city-states are no longer united. It could mean a war here.”
“Luca isn’t mixed up in any of that.”
“I’m not certain,” she says. “But you should be concerned about his safety. The fortune in this coin feels very imminent. Tell him to be wary. The Were’s Claw does not simply warn of danger. It promises it.”
* * *
When Nicoleta and I visit Villiam that evening, Chimal and Agni also await my arrival inside his office. The atmosphere, even just upon entering the room, is tense, as though they were in the middle of an argument before we arrived. Cups sit in front of each of them, filled with red tea that has long gone cold.
“Sorina,” Villiam says, his gaze shifting to Nicoleta questioningly, “we’re hoping you have reconsidered your decision about Hawk. The more I’ve spoken to Chimal, the more it seems that Hawk would prove invaluable—”
“I’m not changing my mind about that.” I pull up the fourth chair at the table and take a seat. They all watch me with apprehension. “But I have a compromise. You say you need someone with abilities the Up-Mountainers won’t expect. I propose Nicoleta.”
“The stage manager?” Chimal furrows his thick eyebrows and inspects her skinny frame. “Forgive me, Nicoleta, but I didn’t realize you had any jynx-work.”
“She’s stronger than ten of your men combined,” I say for her.
“But not reliably so,” Villiam adds.
