View source for Hub2 Ember: The Fortune-Teller

I hate rain. Don't get me wrong -- I love evenings, and cloudy days. I love thunder and lightning and the howling wind, swaying trees and crashing waves and all the drama a big storm brings. But dull drippy rain? There's no fun in that, and it sure makes flying miserable. I had everything set up for some good revenge on that jerk Haegrin, and I just wanted to get there in time to see it go down. Pranked his room real good over at the Devil's Tail Inn, and I promise you the innkeeper is going to be mighty angry with him. Walking in the rain, though? I might just barely make it in time for the fun part, but I was too soaked through to fly.

A chill wind blew through the street, bringing another wave of heavier rain with it, brewing a little more storm in my soul. Why did I feel torn? I wanted to get to the Inn, but I was dragging my feet and glancing up every little side street and alleyway. Already, two people had stopped to ask me if I was looking for something or had lost my way. I was starting to think I had. I came through the main town square, and the west road caught my eye. I stood and stared up it, like something wanted to pull me that way. I shook my head like I was trying to shake out the cobwebs, and stubbornly headed up main street towards the Inn. Immediately, I felt wrong. Mulling over it, feeling darker and darker, I kept stomping through puddles, no longer checking all the alleys. So, when someone spoke to me from a dark doorway, I was caught by surprise.

"Your path lies a different way, trickster," she said. "But you knew that already." I'm not sure why I thought she was talking to me, but I did. I stopped and looked, fascinated. She was an old lady, the living definition of the word "hag" in the flesh, but wearing a well-tailored dress. It was obviously beautiful and of fantastic craftsmanship, but must have been a dozen years old and had been worn plenty. She smiled, as though she too had once been beautiful, and beckoned for me to enter. I told myself I was only following her in to get out of the rain. Yeah, that was it.

Inside were all the usual trappings of a fortune-teller. I'd seen them before, all the same tricks, and I wasn't about to be taken by them. I was waiting for the funny one-eyeball look and the offer to draw some cards, but she simply motioned to the chair, and asked me, "Now, why aren't you on the west road already? You'll need to hurry. Go ahead and dry out your wings, I'm pretty sure I have a scrap of cloak back here that would fit you."

Well, that was puzzling. Being hopelessly unable to reach the inn at this point, I went ahead and did as she said. She found her bit of cloak, thin oiled wool, and draped it over my shoulders.  It was short and light, enough to keep some rain off my wings without getting in the way too much. She eyed me with approval, smiling again, and there was a familiar little twinkle of mischief in her eye. "Fly, tricker."

So I flew. Back to the center of town and up the west road. Somehow, my personal little soul-cloud felt better as I went. Of course, I told myself that was because I was less wet and had scored a cloak for free. I was cruising up the street, not really knowing what I was looking for, when a little shop caught my eye. Before I had really decided what to do about that, I'd already turned and dodged in the door, between an entering patron's feet, and into the corner behind a display.

"Certainly, sir, I'll fetch that order right now." The shopkeeper shuffled off into the back. My eyes darted around. It was a clothing shop, and my cloak blended right in with the walls. I slipped quietly closer to the counter. There was a young courier standing there, waiting. He checked the paper in his hand, probably the order form for whatever he was picking up. The shopkeeper came back out with a small bundle.

"Here it is, order number fifty-seven, three items, courier pickup. Would you mind looking these over to verify you have the correct order?"

The courier nodded, and the shopkeeper, who was probably also the tailor, opened up the package. Out came a beautiful flowing dress, a more practical tunic, and soft leggings -- all just my size. Tiny little person with wings size. The courier nodded, "Yes, this looks right." The tailor packed the items back up, but I was having trouble paying attention. The scene before my eyes shifted, like I was seeing it from a different view, and suddenly I knew I had seen it before. This room was in my dreams last week, but I was over there, standing on the counter, talking to the same tailor and being measured, ordering those clothes, but it wasn't me. Those colors would never work on me, but pale soft skin and auburn hair, green eyes and shimmery wings...

The courier was leaving when my dream faded away again. I jumped and ran out to follow him, through the storm, dodging people and horses, flying almost blind just to keep up. In the end, he only went back to the courier's guild and, from what I could see from the windows, he filed the package for another courier to take somewhere. I camped by that window to keep it in my sight, but somehow drifted off some time after midnight. By the time the sun rose, the package was gone, and I had missed it.

I curled up in the mud, under my new old cloak, and cried my own little rainstorm for a while. I felt better when that was done. Another lead, and I was so close to finding her this time. What had that courier said before I arrived? What if I had gone straight there? But, walking, it would not have been much sooner that I arrived.

Hauling myself out of the mud, I headed up to the inn. It was after noon by now, and I might at least catch some stories about last night. What I found, when I arrived, was the aftermath of a fire. The whole inn had burned, not to the ground, but enough to have claimed quite a few lives. The neighboring buildings were charred, and the roof had fallen in. The common room was badly damaged. One of the guards caught me standing inside, looking shocked, and came over.

"Mage accident," he said. He looked at me like he wasn't quite sure whether to look gruff or sympathetic. "Did you know someone staying here?"

I looked up at him. "I was staying here...sort of. Only, I was out last night."

"Lucky you," the guard said. "You picked a good night to miss." He turned away, heading back upstairs, presumably to supervise the clearing of debris. I headed back out through the window, and back up to the alley where I had met the old fortune-teller. She was waiting for me in her doorway.

"Glad you're okay, trickster. By the way, you're going to need these." She held up a tiny pouch. I flitted by and sat on the edge of her table, in front of the chair where a client would normally sit. She came back in smiling her smile, and put the bag down in front of me. When I opened it, I found a tiny set of runes. They were of incredible workmanship, with each rune beautifully carved in a different color stone. Even more startling, they were sized for my hand. I poured them out and held them for a moment, just learning the sensations of how they felt in my hand. They seemed worn, but in a warm and comfortable way, like a favorite pair of boots, or a quiet moment with an old friend.

I reached out and cast them on the table in front of me, then looked up at her. "What do I see?"

She walked me through a first reading, and a second, and a third, telling me stories about each rune. Over the next few weeks, she taught me more than I knew could fit in my little head. Most of it was telling the fortunes. Some about how to draw people in, and how to make a living at it. A little about looking and speaking the part. And the whole time, she kept that little smile, and I felt like I was finally doing something right.

After three weeks, she told me I'd learned all I could for now. Go out and practice, she told me. She said I'd learn by doing, and that I should tell as many fortunes as I could.

"Stay well, trickster. And listen to your heart next time."

I left with a little wave, like I was popping out to pick up a few things for lunch and would see her again in no time. After I went in whatever direction felt right, and when I got there, I did like she said. Anyone who'd spare a coin got a fortune.

I passed back through, two months later. I came in the same way, through the center and up the road, and looked for her little alley. The street was there, just liked I remembered, but there was no doorway where her doorway had been. There was just a flat side wall with a window, looking in to a stuffy old shop. I went around front and inside, to ask the shopkeeper about her. He just shook his head and said he'd never heard of her. No one had.