Tarotmancer, page 2
“It’s fine. I prefer it black.”
Unless you were at least comfortably well-off, sugar and milk, even goat’s milk, was a precious commodity. Without certification, getting such a luxury in the den would draw unwanted attention.
Harper set down each cup and slid into the chair opposite. “You wanted to talk?”
Getting right to the point. He liked that about her. “I have a proposition for you.” He told her about the intel he’d received on the mask and that he planned on…appropriating it that night.
“I’m not a thief.” Her eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed.
“I know, I know,” Red said. “But I could—” He didn’t want to say ‘use’, although that’s what he was doing. “I mean I would feel safer with you along.”
She lifted her cup to her lips. “Oh?” She took a sip and eyed him over the rim.
Red knew people of culture considered it impolite to eat before the host, but he hadn’t had a satisfying meal in a week. And the eggs, thick slices of ham, and fresh biscuits were calling to him, so he started in, and after a few moments Harper followed suit, not upset. Red didn’t worship any gods, so there was no grace said either and Harper offered none. Gods were for others, the wealthy and devoted who, it seemed to Red, could not deal with their own demons. Most Gifted worshipped the Vine, but Innrone seemed to have no one deity.
“As I was saying, I suspect you could tell me if this was a safe venture?” Red asked.
“Since when is any thievery safe?”
Red laughed between mouthfuls. “Well said.”
They ate in silence from then on and it wasn’t until Harper had cleaned her plate that she pushed it aside and brought out her deck. Fascinated, Red put down his fork and watched as she laid out five in a cross pattern and put three others to her right facedown.
“The Lady of Lies. The Deceiver. The Piper.” She turned over the five. “The Knot. The Jack. The Prisoner.” Harper frowned as she turned over the last three. “Ace of Wands. The Reaper.” She looked up. “Who told you about this mask?”
“That rat, Felix.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Now why would he do that?”
“I had a talk with him after that incident. I suppose he figured giving this information would keep me from killing him.” At Harper’s look, he said, “But I had no plans to.”
Harper made no sign of whether she believed him but went back to the cards. “You know what the Reaper means, I assume?”
“I’m going to die?”
“Not necessarily,” Harper said. “It can mean a significant change or a new beginning. The Ace of Wands in this position is saying in the simplest terms that you lack direction.” She lifted her gaze to him again. “Should I continue?”
“Yes.”
“You saw the Lady of Lies and the Deceiver earlier and what they mean,” Harper continued. “Everyone knows the story of the Pied Piper and how he led the children away.” She tapped the card with the Knot. “This means that you are going to be in a situation that is impossible for you to escape without great cunning.”
Red tried hard not to smirk. Great cunning was something he had in droves.
“I wouldn’t recommend you go forward with your plans,” Harper said.
It was not what Red wanted to hear, but why ask the advice of a diviner if you would not follow it?
Something happened then. Red didn’t know what, but Harper’s expression went blank, as though she were no longer in the room but somewhere far away. Her pupils grew large, swallowing the deep brown of her eyes.
Then she screamed.
“Harper!” Red lunged across the table and grabbed her by the shoulders. A shudder passed through her body, and she seemed to come back to herself. There was fear in her eyes for a moment as they locked with his, and her mouth moved as though there was something urgent she needed to say.
“Harper!” Marcel rushed into the room with a meat cleaver clutched in his hand. “Get away from her, you bastard!”
“Shite.” Red knew there was no way he could explain in time. He released Harper and planted both hands on the table, pushing back. Marcel brought the cleaver down and missed Red’s arm by a hairsbreadth. In moments, Red took his second form, came to his feet, and let out a guttural growl.
“Demon!” Marcel cried.
Red crouched into a fighting stance and readied himself for the next attack when Harper’s voice halted everything. “Marcel, stop!”
“Harper? What did that freak do to you?”
“Marcel,” Harper chided, “you know better than that.”
It surprised Red when Marcel’s cheeks flushed. The big bad cook was reacting as though Harper were his mother! Red would have laughed if he didn’t believe that would reignite Marcel’s anger.
“I thought he hurt ye,” Marcel said. “Look at him!”
By then, Red had regained his human form.
“I swear, Harper, he was a demon!”
“He’s not a demon.” Harper’s voice was calm. “He’s a shape-shifter.”
Had Harper seen his second form? Not that it seemed to matter to her. His respect for the woman increased tenfold.
“And I’m not hurt,” Harper said. “A vision took me.”
Marcel grunted. “Well, as long as you’re a’right.”
Harper didn’t reply, but her expression revealed she was not all right.
Marcel set a malicious gaze on Red and pointed the cleaver at him. “Mind yourself, demon.”
When they were alone, Red approached the table. “Are you all right? What did you see?”
Harper drew in and expelled a deep breath. “Darkness. I’ve seen nothing like it before.” She wrapped her arms around her chest. “It was living darkness. It was fear and anger. Anguish and loneliness.” She shuddered.
Red wasn’t certain if he should ask, “Why do you think you saw it?”
“The cards,” Harper said. “They linked my vision to your reading. This thing, whatever it was, entwined with the destiny that will come about if you continue.”
Red didn’t like that at all. But in his life, he’d never backed down from a challenge. Only cowards did that. And he was no mere human. He refused to be afraid, even if this living darkness was stealing about. He was Red, the greatest thief in all the Riven Isles.
“Thank you for your words, Harper,” Red said. “I won’t ask you to come with me.”
Harper looked at him, her expression unreadable. “I’ll come.”
Red grinned. “Thank you. I’ll up the cut just for you.”
“I want nothing.”
“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion. “But why?”
“I have my own reasons,” she said. “I will tell you if I have another vision or if the situation changes.”
“All right then,” Red said. “I’ll come for you at new morning.”
“Fine.”
He asked nothing more. He understood having your own reasons for doing something and Red respected Harper enough not to ask for further explanation. It filled him with confidence as he left the den, but somewhere, deep in his soul, there was a bit of something that he could only describe as a seed of doubt.
Chapter Three
Harper lay in the darkness as the first hour of the morning approached. She had a good idea of when Red would arrive. The den was still open, and Harper heard the muted sounds of merriment. Those of the common folk might stay until sunrise, then stumble on home to either an empty, lonely bed or a furious wife waiting with whatever kitchen tool she favored to deliver a vicious crack across his noggin. The more well-to-do would curl up with lovers like a languid cat and return home if they were so inclined. All these thoughts came to her and filled her mind. Anything to forget the darkness.
It was ironic that she was lying in the dark. She supposed she should light a lamp, but her visions seemed more focused without light. But tonight, no visions had come, which disturbed her. Tired of sweating atop the coverlets, Harper got up and dressed. After feeling her way to the door, she exited her room. The sounds of revelry filled the hallway. The light was dim, so her eyes didn’t need to adjust. She walked downstairs into the common room.
It was familiar to her, but there was something different. Harper couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but—
“Good morning.”
“Shite!” Harper drew her knife, turning on her heel and slashing, barely missing Red’s chest. He somehow leaped back in time.
“Holy hells!” he said.
“Don’t steal upon me like that!” She took in several sharp breaths.
“I’m sorry.” His expression was one of shock.
“No, no,” Harper said. “It was my fault. I let myself go deep in thought.”
“I shouldn’t have come up behind you.”
She didn’t see that anyone had noticed the incident. “Let’s step outside.”
The night air was oppressive. Not surprising because Innrone was near one of the four lakes that formed the Piper’s Keys, and when it was hot, a mist would rise from them, although no one knew how. Some claimed it was supernatural. Harper was certain there was a real-life explanation. Although the north end of the city beyond the forest was Cryssil Lake, where they said the air was always cool and smelled of sea salt, the lake was fresh water. Harper wished she could go there someday, but people seldom ventured into the forest alone.
“What were you thinking about?” Red asked as they walked away from the den.
“I don’t know.” It was true. She didn’t know what was bothering her. She hadn’t thought to do a reading before his arrival.
“Have you had visions?”
“No,” she said. “Which is strange.”
“But not necessarily a terrible thing?”
Harper wasn’t amused. “I’ll do a read the first chance I get.” She eyed the street. “Do you have a horse?”
“No.”
She lifted a brow. “You were going to leave the city and walk to the forest?”
“Yes.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Do you know how long that will take? Wait here.” Harper stepped into the alley alongside the building.
“Wait, where—”
Harper ignored him and continued. Behind the den was a ramshackle shed lit by a single hanging lantern. The scent of new straw and animal musk wafted from within. Harper lifted the lantern off the hook and stepped inside. The old mottled-gray donkey perked her ears up as she recognized her.
“Hey, Jennie-girl.”
Pops demanded they take care of and walk her. She was a beast of burden, as was common, but every so often, they used her for travel.
Harper hoped Pops realized she was the one who had taken her. It was likely he would, because if anyone other than she, Pops, or the brothers tried to, the donkey would raise a right good fuss. Harper took the bridle and fitted it over her head. “Come on, Jennie-girl, we’re going for a ride.”
She led the donkey back out of the alley.
“An ass?”
“A donkey,” Harper corrected.
“Oh.”
“Here, hold on to this.” She handed him the lantern before mounting, but he hesitated.
“Don’t worry, she’s gentle with me. She won’t bite you…unless you annoy her.”
Red passed the lantern back and mounted behind her and settled himself. Harper squeezed Jennie-girl’s sides with her ankles.
“I’m glad no one can see us.”
“Why?” Harper said. “She’s a good girl. I figured a thief would know horses are expensive.”
“Of course,” Red said. “Sorry again.”
He was silent as Harper navigated Jennie-girl through the streets, filled with voices and movement. The wealthy seldom came into the city after dark. At night, Innrone belonged to the laborers and servants, the revelers, carousers and, of course, the less-respectable denizens of the city. Harper was a part of it all, so she had no fear.
Even on the sturdy jennet, it would take a quarter hour for them to leave the city behind and arrive in the woods. Harper was fine with the silence between them, but Red was not.
“I meant to say how impressed I am by your power.” Harper heard genuine interest in his voice. “Have you had it all of your life?” He amended, “If you don’t mind talking about it.”
“I don’t mind at all.” It wasn’t like it was a secret. “Yes, I’ve had this power as long as I can remember.”
“Self-taught?”
“Mostly,” Harper said. “There was an elderly soothsayer in the city who gave me lessons before she passed away. She also gave me my deck.”
“Mm,” was Red’s response.
“What about you?”
He chuckled. “No, I haven’t always been a thief.” He was silent, and Harper figured that was all she would get from him.
“I’m self-taught.” Was that bitterness she detected in his voice? “I’m surprised I got this far without being hanged.”
“You could find some other way?”
His laugh was softer. “This is all I know.”
“What about your family?”
“What about your family?” Red’s tone was almost accusatory. “Sorry.”
Harper figured it was a sore subject, so she let it pass. “Pops is my family. He and his sons are my brothers. I don’t remember who my actual parents are, although….”
“Yes?”
“My first memory is of being in a gambling den. There were men around the table playing cards.” They had reached the edge of the city. Harper hadn’t noticed the time passing. “There was a man closest to me who called me his good luck charm.”
“Maybe he was your father or uncle?”
“It’s possible. I don’t know since someone killed him.” She recalled standing on tiptoe, trying to see over the table’s edge to watch the group of men move the cards with deft fingers. Lamplight flickered off the piles of gold and jewels. The faces were blank, their voices silent, for although Harper heard the murmuring, their lips didn’t move, or at least not until they prayed to some god for a good hand.
“The man beside me won the pot,” Harper continued. “A man sitting across from him revealed himself to be one of the Gifted.”
Harper recalled the man across the table, raising his hand with his arm extended, his palm out. There was a flash of yellow light and a scream of fear and pain.
The man next to her was on fire.
“Damn to the nether-hells.” Red’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Harper said. “I don’t even remember his face.”
They rode in silence.
“I lost my family,” Red said finally. “I was very young and had to live by my wits. I had no one to take care of me.”
“Now I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. They didn’t speak again after that.
* * *
The owner of the manor clearly preferred his privacy, as there was a lengthy lane that stretched out before them between the road and the manor house, but also the man stupidly showed his wealth by lining said lane with glowing torches. The light burned soft white within glass orbs, which sat atop ornate brass poles. Harper couldn’t identify what made the unearthly glow. It wasn’t fire.
“Wil-o-wisp.” There was a bitter edge to Red’s voice. Harper knew wil-o-wisp were living beings of magic, so it would take a magician of substantial power to seal them within the orbs. It was an unnecessary cruelty.
“Wish I had the power to free them.” Harper’s eyes didn’t leave the glowing orbs. “A sorcerer could shatter the orbs, or a witch whose specialty is the elements.” Whatever sympathy she might have had for Red’s intended target evaporated.
“Go off the road.” Red pointed to the darkness to their right. Harper had seen it too, in the house’s corner. When they moved off the road, the wil-o-wisp light followed them for a time.
Harper’s cards whispered.
“Wait.”
“What is it?”
Harper closed her eyes, breathed, trying to listen—
She’d always been able to hear them, and when many of them spoke, Harper could easily discern what each was saying. This time, it was a cacophony of words and sounds, below her range of hearing. “Something is wrong.”
“Maybe you should stay out here?” Red suggested.
“No,” Harper said. “I’ve never heard the cards—” She halted, expecting the scorn of someone who didn’t know her.
But all he said was, “All right.”
He turned the lamp down to a flicker, and they eased through the trees until they reached the open space where the manor sat. Harper tied Jennie-girl to a nearby tree.
Red was standing still. “I don’t smell any horses.”
Harper’s eyebrow went up in the darkness, but she didn’t comment. The cards were filling her head with frantic whispers. Despite that, she followed Red, crossed the clearing to the side of the house. He stopped and laid his hand against the brick. Harper wasn’t sure if she should say anything, but when she opened her mouth, Red said, “It’s empty.”
Did he have the Gift? He’d not said. They continued to follow the wall to the rear of the house.
“Bring the light up,” he instructed. “It’s all right if it shows.”
Harper adjusted the lantern flame as Red produced a pair of lockpicks. She watched him at his work until she heard a click. It was then she realized the cards had gone silent. Red opened the door and stepped inside. “It’s likely safe to up the lamp,” he said as Harper followed behind him and closed the door.
The lamp revealed a small rectangular table and four chairs. Harper held the lamp higher and turned full circle. Shelves lined with jars of various shapes and sizes. “Are you sure no one is here? Not even servants?”
