Page 71 of Death of the Glass Angel
“What did you see?” Felsin knelt beside her, taking her hand.
Taking a breath, Janus recounted the starlit visions. Her, the tower, the dragon. . . everything.
Felsin’s eyes darted around. “You saw Talon’s shadow, but not yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I see you, up there, I see your shadow, too.” He paused. “Sometimes, it takes the lead.”
A faint memory danced in Janus’ mind. ‘Do I speak to the princess or her shadow?’
Talon had one, too?
Unsettled, Janus peered back at the stars. They remained silent, unmoving. Answers would be better found by fishing through Alfaris’ things, by finding the remainder of the letter from Gemellus.
But dare she cross a man who had the power to do the impossible? Whose magic should not exist?
“Janus,” Felsin prodded gently. “What you saw. . . I think I have, too.”
She gasped. The pieces fell into place. The tower had been her. The great horned dragon matched the pattern on the rosebush card—illusion. Death marked Talon, the blow dealt by a woman’s hand.
This was the same fortune Felsin had pulled but days earlier. The Tower. The Priestess. Death.
And Illusion.
First, it had claimed Eros. Now, Talon would meet his end by Janus’ hand.
* * *
Janus finished tying her saddlebags and shifted to watch Alfaris run a hand down Taniyn. The horse gravitated to the old man, happilynuzzling its broad head against him. Someone once said you could trust those with whom animals felt comfortable. Janus wondered how true that was.
“Alfaris,” Janus asked.
“Yes?”
“Why did you show me that?”
“The stars show us paths. Signs,” Alfaris explained. “Fate is not a script.”
“But I don’t understand. How can you see it at all? I’ve never heard of this. . .” Janus shook her head. “Magic.”
“Few can grasp what lies beyond.” Alfaris smiled wanly. “The glance behind steals away the chance to change the foretold end. And you, Janus, more than anyone else, cannot turn your eyes forward.”
Janus frowned. “You’re as cryptic as Gemellus. No wonder you two are friends.”
“Nonsense. I’m far more direct than he is.” Alfaris gazed up at the darkening sky thoughtfully. “You are shaken. I am sorry if I frightened you.”
The old man seemed genuine. Kind. But the letter Janus found said otherwise. “What did that letter mean?”
Alfaris tilted his head down. “On your path, there is a great pine split in half from a lightning strike. When you reach it, turn west and travel about a mile.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Perhaps something will be waiting for you there.” Alfaris patted Taniyn, ignoring her. “Fair travels, my lady.” He tucked his hands together, hiding them beneath his robes, as he returned to his observatory.
Felsin offered her a hand. “He’s always like that.”
Dragging her gaze from the observatory, Janus let Felsin help her onto Taniyn’s back. “How can you stand it?”
