Page 7 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
“How much for a reading?”
“Ten pieces.” It was the highest price Harrow ever asked for, but the woman’s clothing told her she could afford it.
The customer balked at the price momentarily but soon reached into the pocket of her dress and deposited ten gold coins on the table.
“Let me see your hands, please.”
The woman held out her hands, and Harrow clasped them, turning them over so her palms faced up. She studied them—soft, unlined—allowing the Water to rise with every breath. “What’s your name?”
“Rosemary.”
Harrow closed her eyes, repeating the woman’s name in her mind as her power rose steadily higher, its current rushing through her blood.
Out of nowhere, an unexpected wave of darkness overtook her like a flood, and her awareness was swept away. Images and sounds flashed across her mind. She saw a circle of caravans in a forest clearing. A group of women gathered around a fire. A shadow streaking across the full moon.
And then she saw fire, and she heard screams.Familiarscreams.
Harrow jerked her hands back from Rosemary’s and opened her eyes. The vision faded as she looked into the concerned face of her customer. Her heart pounded and her palms shook, but she tried not to betray how rattled she was.
“Is everything all right?” Rosemary asked.
She had just seen memories, ones she’d never been able to access before. Of all the times for her mind to open to her, why now?That shadow on the moon…She’d seen the same thing in her scrying bowl a month ago, not realizing it was a memory. But what was it?
Of course she’d heard the stories of the Fire Queen’s fabled incorporeal assassins, but she’d always thought them to be rumors. Everyone did. It helped that no one could agree on what they were. Formless, ghostly warriors? Beings capable of killing with a single touch? It was too fantastical to be real. The genocide of her people was terrible enough without needing to invent invisible, invincible foes to be responsible for it.
But then, what had really happened that night?
Rosemary had begun eyeing the exit as if debating whether to flee. She likely believed Harrow’s sudden tension was in relation to her reading.
“Everything’s fine.” Harrow shook her head roughly. “My apologies. Let’s continue.”
With some hesitation, Rosemary nodded.
Harrow closed her eyes once more. She was almost wary of sinking fully into her power again, but thankfully, this time nothing unusual reached out to her from the darkness.
When she was ready, she reached for her Seer cards and shuffled them. The methods human fortune tellers used were usually in imitation of the Seers, so Harrow was free to use these methods without fear of revealing herself.
For a reading, six cards were dealt from the deck of twenty-four. Each was a different type of water with a variable meaning, depending on how it was drawn.
“Rain, Waterfall, Snow, Spring, Wave, and River,” Harrow read as she placed each card, taking time to listen to what the Water told her. “Wave and River are powerful cards, and their placement as the final two is telling.”
“Telling how?”
Harrow studied her customer, deciding how much to reveal. She tried to limit the number of true readings she gave out, withholding specific details to lessen the chance of her identity being discovered. She couldn’t lie outright, however. It went against everything she was to be dishonest about what the Water told her. But the risk of exposure always lingered, and she had a duty to herself to survive, too.
Rosemary was different from her usual customers, however. The Water had told Harrow a great deal, and she sympathized with the woman’s plight. She decided to throw caution to the wind and tell her everything.
“You’re pregnant.”
Rosemary leaped out of her chair, eyes round as saucers. “I’m what?”
“Pregnant, dear.”
“Are—are you sure?”
“Very.”
Those saucer-like eyes filled with tears.
