Page 50 of Death of the Glass Angel
Removing the hand from his eyes, Talon glanced over the cards. “Not much of a show.”
Exhaling, Felsin’s shadowed lids lowered. “I’m not doing this for show.”
“Here,” Janus sat forward, evoking candles around the edge of the table and a large crystal ball at its center.
Felsin examined his decorations and shot her an amused smile before sliding his cards into a circle. “Happy?”
“Better,” Talon murmured.
Felsin carefully selected a card and flipped it over, revealing a woman in a white dress standing atop an ocean, the water splashing over her feet.
“The Priestess of Faerdain,” Felsin said.
“What does that mean?” Janus quickly asked.
“Intuition. Inner voice. An alluring woman.” Felsin explained.
Janus chortled. “Not me, then.” She stared at the ceiling, trying to think of anyone she knew who fit the description.
Talon was staring at her intently when she looked back down. His cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked away.
“Cards’ meanings aren’t always apparent,” Felsin warned.
“What else?” Janus asked.
Flipping the second card over revealed an upside-down tower of brass topped with an enormous clock face. “The Clock Tower.” He murmured, grimacing.
“I know that one,” Talon said. “Destruction, or horrible agony, right?”
“Unavoidable catastrophe. “Felsin confirmed.
A rush of fear swept over Janus before dissipating. Horrible agony had already ruined her life. What more could await her?
“Alright.” She said.
Felsin flipped over another card and pushed it forward. A skeletal figure peered out from tattered black robes, a scythe clutched in bony hands. “Death.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I need an explanation for that one,” Janus said.
Brow furrowed, Felsin hesitated before selecting the final card and turning it over. Gasping softly, Janus reached forward to touch it and snatched back her hand.
Emotions caught in her throat. Twisting vines, thorned and flowered, painted an unusual pattern across a glossy black card. The rosebush card—the same Gemellus had used for his odd little test.
“Illusion,” Felsin said softly.
“That’s the rosebush, isn’t it?” Talon asked, crossing his legs. “What’s a playing card doing in a fortune teller’s deck?”
“The illusion card was used for fortunes long before gamblers changed its name.” Felsin corrected.
“Where did you even get that?” Talon marveled. “Do you know how much I’d pay to get my hands on one of those?”
“I didn’t realize you were a gambler.”
“A damn good one, thanks.”
“If you’re good, you don’t need this.”
“Clearly, you’ve never gambled,” Talon said. “The best know to always have a trump card.”
