Page 23 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
Or maybe he just didn’t want to.
The sharp tip stabbed him in the chest, and lightning struck.
…
Harrow was more distracted than she’d ever been. And to make matters worse, her fortune-telling booth was busier than she’d ever seen it. Hours before the gates opened for evening performances, there were customers lingering outside—mostly women. Every one of them had come to consult the psychic. The very distracted, overtired psychic.
All week, Harrow had been consumed by thoughts of Raith.
She thought about his bronze skin and silky hair, how he cocked his head when he didn’t understand her, and how she’d discovered he had a sweet tooth and loved any sugary snack she brought him.
She thought about the times she’d made him smile. She thought about the fewer times she’d heard him speak. She recalled the intensity of his stare, and her stomach would flutter and her heart would race, and it would take all her control not to rush and see him right then.
Every night, she visited Raith instead of sleeping, and it was starting to catch up with her. She would zone out mid-conversation with others, and people had started asking her if she was feeling unwell.
She looked forward to those visits too much to care. She planned them all day, hoarding extra food she thought he might like and finding stories to read him and even planning what she would wear, for the Goddess’s sake. She worried constantly about him sitting alone in his cage, at the mercy of whoever found him there.
She was…obsessed.
And right now, readings were the last thing she wanted to do. But she did them anyway, as was her duty as a Seer. And her customers were so eager and receptive to her guidance that she began to get suspicious.
As her sixth client in a row ducked into the tent, wringing her hands nervously and staring eagerly at Harrow, she began to piece it together. The woman’s pale skin and elegant costume were remarkably similar to another customer she had served on one of her first days in Allegra.
The newcomer perched on the edge of the chair. “How much for a reading?”
“Ten pieces.”
The woman didn’t even blink before she dropped the coins on the table.
After stashing the money, Harrow held out her hands, indicating the woman place her own in them. She turned them over, studying the lines on her palms. A Seer saw those lines like rivers from a bird’s-eye view, snaking their way through the land to merge with the great ocean. “What’s your name?”
“Brianna, ma’am.”
Ma’am?A wealthy human did not offer titles of respect to an Elemental. “Why did you consult me today, Brianna?”
“Well, someone told me how you helped them, and I was hoping you might do the same for me.”
“Someone?”
“My friend Rosemary. You told her she was going to have a son. She’s so happy. She’s talked of nothing else since.”
Harrow sighed. Attracting attention was not smart. Humans that told fortunes mostly dabbled in the art, stumbling upon the occasional grain of true intuition. People visited them for the fun of it, perhaps hoping to receive some outside assurance their life wasn’t as meaningless as it felt. They didn’t line up outside the gate before opening hours, happy to pay anything, receptive to any advice they were given.
No—they did that only for Seers. Or had done that.
Harrow hadn’t been able to withhold vital information about her pregnancy from poor Rosemary. But now, here was Brianna and every other woman from the city, lined up and desperate for Harrow’s knowledge. Would they suspect what she really was?
Would they care?
These women were likely wives of wealthy, entitled businessmen—not the easiest of roles to fill. Such men expected their wives to be like delicate shadows, flitting around behind them, cleaning up their messes, offering their bodies at their husbands’ convenience. If Harrow could inject a little hope into their empty lives, maybe it wouldn’t matter to them who she was.
Deciding to trust Brianna, she shuffled the cards and laid out a reading. She told Brianna that her husband was unfaithful, but her youngest daughter would make a full recovery from the illness she currently suffered from, and if Brianna chose to leave her husband, she would face several years of struggle before finally finding a new life for herself and her children.
When Brianna left, an extra five pieces left on top of the ten she already paid, another customer came, and Harrow did a reading for her, too. And then another, and another.
But all the while, she never stopped thinking about Raith.
Finally, the main event in the big top commenced, and Harrow closed up shop for the night, eager to make it there in time to catch Malaikah’s performance, the finale of the show. But first, there was something she needed to do.
