Then she reached for a deck of cards resting on a cloth the color of ashes, embroidered in silver thread that shimmered like spiderwebs. Her fingers moved without hesitation. No pause. No doubt. She drew three cards and set them down in a line, face-down. Then she opened a small box, inside, black candles waited. She placed them one by one around the cards.
Her voice came soft from behind the mask.
“Light one candle for each card you wish revealed.”
I blinked. My pulse had started to crawl up my throat. “You want me to light them?”
She didn’t nod. “Yes. It must be you.”
The first match snapped uselessly, but the second flared to life, trembling between my fingers as the scent of sulfur rose. I held my breath and leaned in, lighting the candle to the left. A small, flickering flame. Soft. Fragile. But the second it caught, the room felt different. Tighter. Like the walls had drawn in just a little closer.
She turned over the first card.
It pictured a dagger. Ornate. Sharp. Red droplets falling from the blade like drops of paint.
“I see great pain in your past,” the seer murmured. “Pain that cut deep. Pain you carry still.” I didn’t respond. “And greater pain in your future.”
My heart sank. I don’t know what I’d expected. Maybe not a quiet, painless life, but hearing it from her, from someone who hadn’t lied so far,stung.
I wanted to scream. At her. At the gods. Atsomeone.
Give me a break. Let me breathe.Let me heal.
But no.
More pain.
Great.
I picked up another match with shaking fingers. Struck it. Lit the second candle. The wick hissed, then bloomed into flame.
She turned the next card.
Two doves. One white. One black. They faced each other, beaks just touching, wings spread wide like they were caught mid-motion, about to fight, or about to embrace. It was hard to tell.
“Pain, but also love,” the seer continued.
Another match. Another flame.
She turned the third card.
A cage.
Dark iron, crooked bars. Bent inward, not outward. Like whatever was inside had given up trying to escape.
The air shifted again. It was subtle at first, a pressure building in my temple, pressing behind my eyes. The candlelight seemed too bright. The shadows too thick. My pulse quickened, the sound of it loud in my ears. The seer’s voice dropped, almost swallowed by the silence.
“I see one who is struck. A friend. She’s waiting for you.”
I stared at the card, at the cage. “A friend?”
She nodded once. “She’s been waiting a long time.”
The blood in my body slowed. I could feel it. Like it had turned to syrup. There was only one person it could be. I grabbed the card and stared at it. Licia, was trapped?
“Can you see her?” I whispered.
“No. But I can feel her. She’s like me.”
