The last space at the end of the vast hallway is so shrouded in shadow that Violet does a double-take when she realises someone has set up another deck of asteros cards. No one else seems to have noticed; this stretch of the underground hallway is empty.

“You.” The woman points at Aleksander. “Stay for a reading.”

Aleksander glances at Violet and she shrugs. She’s already seen her fate in a pack of cards, and she’d rather not show it to Aleksander.

“Free of charge,” the woman adds.

Aleksander rubs the back of his neck and Violet can see that he’s wavering. She gives him a nudge towards the table and smiles.

“I can look after myself for a bit,” she says.

He touches the side of her face, just once. Violet’s cheeks warm, and she’s suddenly grateful for the dark.

“I’ll only be a moment,” he promises.

She watches him go, her own smile lingering.

A man in a black silk shirt comes to stand next to her. “They say if you see an asteria naked, you’ll be cursed for three generations.”

Caspian Verne has swapped out his formal wear for a dark leather jacket and darker jeans. It’s a casual look, and yet on him it’s still infuriatingly suave.

“So you’re extremely cursed, then,” she says.

His mouth twitches. “Indisputably. I’m glad to see you made it, Violet.” Then he peers at Aleksander’s retreating figure. “And what interesting company you’ve brought with you.”

“Aleksander?” she says, surprised. “We’re just—I mean—”

“It’s okay, we all have our sins.”

She brushes aside the comment. “I actually came here on a mission. I want to talk to you about something.”

“Funnily enough, so do I.” Caspian gestures to the labyrinth of underground rooms. “Take a walk with me, Everly. Unless you can’t bear to be parted with your white knight.”

Violet rolls her eyes. “He’s not my knight.”

But she glances at Aleksander all the same. He’ll be fine without her; it’s only five minutes. Besides, while she and Caspian have made casual chit-chat over the various gatherings and run-ins over the last year, they’ve never spoken properly. Not until now.

“Tell me, then,” she says. “What wisdom can the great Caspian Verne impart?”

Caspian’s smile glitters in the darkness.

Aleksander approaches the asteria with a healthy amount of scepticism. Normally, they’re around during Fidelis’ various fairs, plyingfortunes and favours, quibbling over the best decks and competing for the most elaborate costume. Most use masks to disguise their day-to-day appearance, but Aleksander’s seen enough of them to know that behind the disguise is usually the butcher, or one of the agriculturists. Ordinary people, pretending they have a hotline to the gods.

This woman wears no mask. Instead, her face is painted in simple gold lines, slashing across the contours of her cheekbones and extending into her hairline. The rest of her outfit is simply a black slip that belies how cold it really is down here. Her eyes meet his and every single hair on the back of his neck lifts.

Wordlessly, she starts to spread the cards.

The asteros deck is as simple as her outfit, with matte black backs, like someone painted over the original illustration in a hurry. But they have the telltale glitter of reveurite dust that marks them out as genuine.

It’s been a long time since Aleksander’s visited an asteria, even for fun. He touches each of the cards, wondering which astral holds his fate in their hands. Will it be Nemetor, carrying his staff of infallible wisdom? Or Etallantia herself, gentle patron to the scholars and their assistants? At this point, he’d even settle for the trickster twins Mirael and Finrael.

He makes to turn over three cards, but the asteria holds up one hand. Instead, she keeps laying them out.

“There are only supposed to be three—” he starts.

The asteria cuts him off with a single look, and continues until there are seven cards in front of him, spread in a semicircle. Seven astrals. She spreads out her hands in a clear gesture:now you may see your guides.

The first card is Fillea, a decidedly uninspired card. The astral of choices stands with her back to him, her arms outstretched to indicate the forked path before her. He doesn’t need an asteros card to tell him that there are choices to be made.