Page 20 of Fang Fiction

“Me toooo,” Flora half sung. “You know, we’ve always had this policy that any human who made their way into Bar Between could visit the Isle at their own risk, and once the books got big I was a little worried we’d be, like, overrun with fans?? But you’re the first one who’s actually made it here.”

“Wow, a dubious honor!” Tess laughed, and Flora did too.

“So which book is your favorite?” Flora asked. “Who’s your favorite character? Oh my god, are you a total Callum girl?? You seem like a complete and utter Callum girl.”

“Seriously? Ew.”

“What, you’re too good for a hot vampire?”

“No, nothing like that!” Tess laughed and took another sip of the incredible wine. “He just seems like—I don’t know. Like you can’t trust him. Like he would just…take what he wanted. No matter what you said.”

Flora tilted her head, giving Tess a long, appraising look. “And you want someone who’ll always listen to you.”

“Right.” Tess blushed, feeling like she’d shared too much. “Anyway, it’s Felix for me! Classic romantic, love and devotion, blah blah blah.”

“Eh, he’s not as great as you think.” Flora groused. “He dated my sister for a minute, like fifteen years ago? Before the Isle. He was super romantic and everything, but at some point it’s like oh my god, stop reciting poetry and pick a fucking restaurant.”

“Fern dated him?!” Tess was utterly agape. She leaned in, conspiratorial. “So can I ask, whoever August Lirio is, they’d have to be magical, right? To have a way of knowing what’s happening on the Isle? Like, do you think they’ve been in here??”

Flora shrugged. “To be honest, everyone comes through here at some time or another. I’ve thought about it, but we get so many people, from so many different worlds, there’s no way to know.” She took a sip of her wine and smiled. “It’s pretty cool, though. August Lirio could have been in my bar. I could have served them a drink! And since it’s my job to keep an eye on the Isle with vision portals, sometimes I try to see if I can figure out what’s gonna happen next in the books, but it’s never worked.”

“I’m sorry, vision portals?” Tess frowned.

“Oh—like this.” Flora moved her hands, and a little circle appeared in the air between her and Tess—like a small floating screen rimmed in blue light, showing the street in Vinegar Hill where Tess had just been standing. “I can see what’s happening in any world connected to the bar. Cool, right?”

“So you’ll be able to see me?” Tess asked, her voice small. “On the Isle?”

Flora nodded. “But I can’t actually do anything there. So if anything goes wrong, I won’t be able to help. You’ll just have to get to the crystal bridge as fast as you can and come straight back here, okay?”

“Oh.” Tess swallowed. “Of course.”

“Okay then!” Flora laid her hands over Tess’s, and Tess felt suffused with warm energy. “Let’s read your tarot and get you on your way.”

“My tarot?” Tess was confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re embarking on a journey,” Flora said matter-of-factly. “We need to find out what you’re seeking.”

“No.” Tess disagreed. “I’m just delivering a message. I’ll probably be right back here in an hour.”

Flora looked at Tess for a long moment but said nothing. Then she smiled.

“Let’s just see what the cards say, okay?”

Flora opened a drawer beneath the bar and took out a gorgeous deck. The cards looked at least a hundred years old, ornate illustrations printed on thick stock, accented with foil that caught the light as Flora shuffled, the cards flying through her fingers so quickly they looked like one big blur.

“Have you had a reading before?” Flora asked, her eyes never leaving the cards.

“Only with friends, like at parties and stuff,” Tess murmured. “Never with an actual witch.”

“That you know of.” Flora winked. She put the deck of cards down in front of Tess. “Okay, they’re warm—I need you to cut the deck twice, with your left hand. Think about where you’re going. Think about what you’re leaving behind. And think about what you need.”

Tess tried to do what Flora said, but in truth, her mind was a swirling mess. The past twelve hours had completely flipped around her understanding of reality, and she wasn’t sure how to locate herself in it at all, let alone what she needed to get out of it. She thought about Joni, and the hope she felt when she opened the email from Dr. Vázquez asking if she wanted to come back to Columbia, and the smell of antique books. She thought about the shock of watching Octavia feed, the revulsion of Rick’s hand on her shoulder, about a doorway appearing in the wall of this strange bar, a flash of blue light, a chance to be free. She cut the deck twice with her left hand and looked at Flora.

“Good,” Flora said. “Now restack the deck with the same hand—put whatever pile you want on top. And draw a card.”

“Just one?” Tess asked, and Flora nodded. Tess considered the piles for a moment; Tess’s left hand had faltered when cutting the second pile, the one now in the center, so it held only a few cards. For some reason, Tess felt that she ought to draw the card from this pile instead of the others. She restacked the deck accordingly and flipped over the card on top.

“The eight of swords,” Flora nodded. “Tell me what you see.”