Page 68 of Death of the Glass Angel
Alfaris beckoned Janus to the sitting area. “Now, what could have possibly brought you to me?”
Strangely at ease around the old man, Janus’s words came easily. “I was hoping you might help us.” She gratefully sank into one of the cushions. “Assassins have tried to kill me twice. On the second, they almost got Felsin, too.”
“Troubling.” Alfaris sat opposite her.
“I was hoping you might have a lead on them.”
“Why would a hermit know such things?”
Felsin leaned on the back of Janus’ seat. “We both witnessed the same thing during the attacks. A glassy-eyed. . . mirage.”
Alfaris’ expression didn’t change much, but Janus noticed his eyes widen slightly. “Let’s see, then,” He leaned forward. “They laid in wait for you at the inn and Felsin at a tavern. Then they struck both of you at once on the mountainside, disguised as your guards.”
Janus moved to affirm his words but paused. Who had told him the details?
“Meaning they know a great deal about us, and our plans,” Felsin said.
“It’s certainly curious.” Alfaris continued, face softening. “Who has something to gain when you lie dead? Or rather, what can they not reach while you yet live?”
Nothing. The answer repeated itself in Janus’ head, knocking against her skull. She was a princess of nothing and had sway over nothing. Had offended nobody.
“Which brings us to you,” Janus said. “The only link we could find was our mentors—you, and Gemellus.”
“Is that so? Perhaps you should stop looking back.” Alfaris stood. “And try looking forward.” He offered Janus a hand. “Come with me.”
Accepting the offer, Janus rose and peered up the spiral stairway before following the old man upstairs. After a long climb, they reached the tower’s top floor, and a magnificent sight stole Janus’ breath away.
There was no ceiling. A sky of black intermingled with otherworldly blues and purples, dotted with stars and moons. Gold metal rings spun between them, connecting planets in an intricate sphere that rotated in a slow orbit.
Janus gaped at the starry sky, and Felsin chuckled as he joined her. “I wore that expression my first time, too.”
Alfaris stood beneath the cosmos. “Has Gemellus told you much about me?”
“He’s never mentioned you,” Janus said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Alfaris laughed breathily. He took her shoulder and stood behind her. “Look up. What do you see?”
A nagging sensation bit into Janus. Hadn’t Felsin asked her that already? She glanced behind her to see him grinning at her.
“Stars,” Janus answered.
“The seers of Yuri Llaqta were the first to glean the stars, centuries ago,” Alfaris said. “From their patterns, they devised the tarots, and saw fate unfold.”
A metal ring whooshed overhead, and Janus reflexively ducked. “Are you saying my future is written up there?”
“In a sense. If you only know where to look.”
Watching the rings orbit one another, Janus pressed her lips together. That letter, nearly ten years ago, had mentioned a fortune. The Tower. Death. Illusion. The same fortune Felsin had pulled for her a few days ago.
An irrevocable change, a catastrophe, will be brought about by someone’s death.
Eros’ death soon followed that letter. Had that been the fate Alfaris saw?
Was it going to happen again?
Panic welled in Janus’ throat, and she backed up, bumping into Felsin. She hastily stepped away. “Talon’s never going to believe any of this is real.”
“He’s a cynic.” Felsin agreed. “I’d have to perfectly foretell his entire day to convince him. And even then, he’d be skeptical.”
