Chapter One
Innocent, the cards whispered. They were going to execute an innocent person.
Harper was barely out of infancy when the cards had first spoken to her. They did not speak as a person would, although they murmured words beyond her understanding. Other times she saw things, visions that sometimes frightened her.
She heard them whisper this time and hurried down the crowded street towards the market square. Their voices, which she had learned to distinguish over the years, continued to guide her.
The citizens of Innrone filled the streets even at this early hour. Most of whom hadn’t slept or were about to take to their beds after either work or pleasure. The affluent came much later or sent their servants out for whatever it was they needed.
The market square itself stood at the intersection of Merchant Row and Copper Street, which made up the business district. Depending on how far you walked, the prominent shops were closer to the square, but as you traveled farther, that’s where you found the less-reputable merchants.
Harper avoided executions. Why would she want to watch someone die? But when a young girl running errands for her boss nearly knocked Harper into the dirt and explained she was going to the hanging, she heard the Lady of Lies say innocent. As Harper approached market square, she threaded her way through to the head of the crowd.
At the center was a somewhat new knee-high circle of white limestone bricks with an uncomplicated design. A fountain once stood there, but there was nothing left but crumbled pieces of blue-veined marble. The city officials weren’t willing to import the rock a second time, since rising from the rich dark earth was an offshoot of the Celestial Vine. From its roots at Jack-In-Irons to the island of Morwynne, its branches and offshoots were the source of all magic and held the fragile island together.
The central stalk was wide but supple and healthy green, growing twelve feet tall in whatever time it took. Smoother than a baby’s arse, as people liked to say. Cordons made branch-like extensions, slimmer than the trunk but enough to support the weight of a teenaged boy. The ones who dared make the climb proved this. Smaller canes and shoots cascaded down in a shower of darker tendrils. It had appeared right in the middle of the noon rush. The sound of stone breaking was like lightning striking many times, and the earth trembled underneath the terrified crowd. The offshoot broke through, continued to grow as it reached into the sky.
Opinions of this happening varied. Some said it was the Vine giving its blessing to Innrone. Others had more disturbing guesses. That it served as a warning for all the people partaking in unlawful or immoral activities in the dark alleys of the square. Harper didn’t know either way. Customers asked her a few times, and she gave the same answer. She’d never been able to make a divination about the Vine. Besides being the source of magic, it also birthed the magical creatures, who were more powerful than Harper hoped to be.
Three people stood in the loam. One held the reins of the mare upon which the thief sat with the rope around his neck. A second man was to his left and an old woman near the horse’s flank. Harper guessed she would slap it on the rear to get it going.
They’d slung the rope over a lower cordon. Harper pushed closer, recognizing the man holding the reins as the local junker, although the well-to-do liked to call his wares antiques.
“Master Jessen!” she called.
He turned upon hearing his name. “Hello, Miss Harper. Come to see the spectacle?”
Harper did not consider an execution a show, but she didn’t say. “You are about to execute an innocent man.”
“What’s that?” He crossed his beefy arms across his chest. “He was in my shop nosin’ around and next thing, a few small trinkets gone.”
“You saw him lift them?”
“Who is this brat?” the second man, who Harper didn’t recognize, demanded. “Let’s get on with it!”
“Be at ease, Felix.”
“I will not!”
While the men continued their argument, Harper inspected the would-be thief. He was slight and thin. His skin was an unusual reddish-brown that Harper had never seen before. It was difficult to tell which part of the Isles he was from. His hair was long, fiery, and unkempt as it rested across his shoulders. His shirt, vest, and hose, even his shoes, were red. He wasn’t very smart, dressing like that. Despite his position, Harper swore he was smirking. Bright eyes, the color of chestnut, seemed to take the entire crowd into consideration. But for what? Escape? He didn’t have a chance without her intervention.
“Now hold on,” Master Jessen was saying. “Our Miss Harper is a diviner.”
“She fair divined my wife was pregnant with twins!”
“I got good numbers from her!”
“Let her have her say!”
Felix rolled his eyes but kept quiet. Harper stepped over the limestone wall, stood next to the horse, and brought out her deck. The first one she drew was what she wanted. She showed it to Jessen. “Do you recognize this card?”
He peered at it. “Aye, ain’t that the Lying Lady?”
Harper smiled. “Yes.” Although the proper describer was Lady of Lies. “Would you untie his hands, please?”
“Now wait a—” Felix began.
Jessen shrugged and complied, saying, “I’d not try to run, thief. This lady’s about to save yer arse.”
“What’s your name?” she asked him.
He didn’t speak right away. “Red.”
“Just Red?”
“Yes.”
“Take the card.”
“Why?”
“You want to be hanged? Take the damn card.”
He did so. The Lady whispered again – Innocent.
Just to satisfy her own curiosity, Harper nodded and drew another.
The Jack. Amongst the Major Arcana like the Lady of Lies, it could mean different things. Some diviners thought the Jack referred to the Farm Boy, while those not familiar with tarot assumed it was the same as the jack from a common deck. Within the tarot, it meant greed, unless reversed. Harper let the card fall to the ground. The next she drew was the Martyr. Tempered by the Weaver and the Match Girl. “He is prideful and greedy, but also has somewhat of a heart. If he were guilty, the Lady would have said so.” Harper retrieved her cards.
“Then tell us, oh mighty diviner, who did it?” Felix’s tone was mocking.
Harper ignored him. “Master Jessen, if I may look at your store? Hold the thief here.”
When Harper walked into the shop, Jessen pointed out where the trinkets had been. Harper drew again. The Piper. Someone being led astray. The Deceiver, and the Lady of Lies. Harper pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who was that man out there?”
“That’s my cousin.” Jessen’s eyes widened. “You don’t say?”
One last card. The Knot. “Someone tied to you,” Harper said. “You’d better have a talk with that cousin of yours.”
In no time, Jessen…persuaded Felix to hand over the goods and they released Red. Jessen muttered an apology before dragging his wayward cousin back into his store, and the crowd went about their business.
Harper didn’t expect Red to stay around to thank her, but he did just that. He approached and said, “Thank you, Lady Diviner.”
“I ain’t no lady.” Harper shrugged. “Call me Harper if you like.”
“You seem educated, if you don’t slip into that common speak.”
“I am,” Harper said. “Pops always said an ignorant gambler is a poor gambler.”
“Pops?”
“The owner of the…establishment where I work.”
“An illegal gambling den,” Red said, matter-of-fact.
“Eh,” Harper said, noncommittal. “I’m glad I could help. Nothing’s worse than being accused of thievery when you ain’t no thief.”
He laughed, as if he knew a secret. “That is where you are wrong, Lady Harper,” he said. “I am a thief.”
Chapter Two
Red wondered how he appeared to the quivering mass of human flesh before him, though there were no mirrors nearby. Sharp pointed teeth, glistening in the semidarkness. Hair the color of fire covering his body, with lean muscles underneath. He’d removed that red outfit, keeping only the trousers on, and they strained against his cock and balls. “You didn’t believe I’d let that pass, did you?” Red grinned.
The man – what was his name? Felix? – still sporting the bruises visited upon him by his cousin, sat huddled in the room’s corner where he’d taken refuge after the junk man had thrown him out of his home. Red assumed Felix had nowhere to go, estranged from his own family, if his stealing from his own relative was any sign of his morals.
The rooming house stood between two prosperous businesses in a dead-end alley. A scar on otherwise flawless skin. It catered to the criminal and the destitute. Red had tracked Felix there. He couldn’t let what happened go unpunished. Of course, he wouldn’t kill the man. Red hadn’t committed murder since— Well, he wasn’t about to dwell on that. It was ages ago, and he was a different person now. Sometimes he looked back and experienced…guilt? Yes, he supposed it was. He’d never given his actions a second thought.
When Red arrived at his door, Felix had tried to shut it in his face, but Red, who was much stronger than any human, had forced his way in. Felix was stupidly unarmed. Even a dagger would have given him an air of menace. Red stood over him and widened his sharp-toothed smile. “Now, what should I do with you?”
“Wait!” Felix cried as he pushed his arms out in a warding gesture. “I have something that may interest you.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“Tonight, I was going to…borrow a family heirloom.”
“You mean steal it.”
“It’s worth a lot of money.”
“Why would I be interested?”
Felix didn’t speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I was told—”
“Don’t bother,” Red said between his teeth, making himself look more fearsome. “What about this heirloom?”
“A mask.”
“What of it?”
“Well, I’m not sure.”
Red took a step forward and bared his fangs.
“Wait!” Felix’s eyes bugged. “All I know is my uncle won’t allow anyone near it. It’s supposed to be encrusted with gems and made from the finest porcelain.”
It didn’t seem believable. “This is the junker’s father?”
“No, no.” Felix calmed. “He is brother to mine.” He released a breath. “And likely he’ll blame my father for the theft.” He said this more to himself. “Which is fine.”
Red did not like meddling in the affairs of family. “You have no love for your father.”
Felix snorted. “He turned me out.”
Red figured there was a reason. Felix was nothing but a common thief and vagabond. “Fine, where is it?”
The woods outside of the city. They didn’t have a name. Most people referred to them as Wandering Woods, after two young children who disappeared while exploring. Some claimed they met an evil witch who had them for her supper. Others said a monstrous wolf devoured them. Red felt it was better if he stayed away. He wasn’t a magician, although well acquainted with the arts. There must be some measure of safety, if this rich uncle had lived in the woods all this time.
Felix was going on and giving whatever information he thought was important. Where his uncle’s manor was, how to get there, and an insulting description of his uncle that called his manhood into question.
“All right then.” Despite his misgivings, Red wanted to get moving and for Felix to shut his mouth. “We’ll call things even, if I find the mask and it’s worth something.”
“Oh, it is!” Felix brightened for a moment, then shrank back again.
“It had better be,” Red said, “because I will come for you if it isn’t.”
He turned, but not before seeing the terror return to Felix’s expression. He smiled to himself as he made his way out of the alley, taking time to regain his human form. Now what to do? He’d burgled a few large estates in the past but always near or within the city limits. It was uncharted ground for certain. If only he knew a magician….
Red thought of Harper.
He grinned again. When he’d told her he was a thief, she shrugged and replied, “Not my choice of work, but you gotta eat.”
“I am in your debt, La— Harper,” Red had said. “Someday I will return the favor.”
He could visit her and let the cards decide if this was something he might do, suffering no mishaps. And repay his debt by offering her a cut. It might not be a fair cut but killing two birds and such. He’d followed her at a safe distance to watch where she’d go, but to Red’s shock, she started visiting some less than reputable individuals and the dangerous backstreets. It didn’t take him long to figure out she was paying winning bets. He’d never seen so many people so happy to see one person.
And she did her job without fear of robbery, although only a half-wit would attack someone with the Gift. Red figured it had more to do with her reputation than anything. And wouldn’t she see it coming?
Confident in his idea and success, Red whistled a jaunty tune as he moved through the teeming city streets until he came to Pops’ Gambling Den. Patrons crowded it in the early evening with the day laborers stopping for the games and drink. Later that night, after sunset, the oh-so-perfect respectable folks would arrive, and the true money would change hands. Red visited these places often, but not to steal. He enjoyed gambling. And there was no way he’d get out of there alive if he stole.
A curvaceous dark-skinned woman approached him. “Evening, love, you need a table?”
“Actually,” Red said
, “I’m here to see Harper.”
Her lips thinned, and eyes narrowed. “You a friend?”
Friend? He’d only had one, but that was long ago. “Tell her it’s Red.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, you’re him.” She grinned. “Follow me, handsome.”
He did as she weaved amongst the jammed tables, showing surprising skill. The air was thick with smoke, mingling with the smell of unwashed bodies and hard liquor. He’d been in too many places like this, so it ceased to bother him. Harper was in the room’s rear, at a rickety old table, but the surface was smooth. She was sitting across from a matronly woman, who was wringing a handkerchief in her plump fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Harper said with genuine sympathy.
The woman made a noise like a squeak and buried her face in her hands. Red guessed, unfaithful husband. He was no saint, but he believed any man who did that to a woman was a coward and a whore. The woman pushed back from the table and stood. She would have fallen backwards over the chair had Harper not reached out with a swiftness, grabbed the woman’s wrist, and steadied her. She splayed her other hand over the woman’s face.
Red would swear time halted.
When Harper released her, the woman stood still. Red moved around to the side and saw her expression of resignation. The woman nodded and reached into her dress at her bosom and drew out a pouch. She opened it and withdrew coins, which she counted out into Harper’s palm. Then, without another word, she turned and left. Red got a glimpse of what the woman had paid, five celestials. It would set Harper for the next several months. Almost made him wish he was a diviner.
Harper noticed him standing there. “Well, greetings.”
“Miss Harper.” Red moved closer to the table. He heard his escort chuckle as she moved away. “I figure you can’t tell me, but what happened to that woman?”
“Personal,” Harper said, “but let’s just say her husband is about to be paid back for his indiscretions.”
“He deserves it,” Red said.
Her expression brightened, impressed. “I’m glad you think so.” Harper gathered up her cards. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“May we sit?” Red said. “Have you eaten yet?”
“You offering to pay?”
Red shrugged. “Unless you are willing? But let it not be said that I’m not a gentleman.”
“I eat for free.” Harper moved from around the table. “Follow me.”
Like the server, Harper knew the smoothest way through the crowd and tables. She and Red slipped into the kitchen, which was small but seemed to manage the load. The enormous man at the stove already had several bread trenchers, bowls, and plates filled with food spread out on the cooking block. And with the man’s thick shoulder-length hair and long beard done up in two braids, Red wondered how much of it got into the food. It was with some unspoken signal that the cook whipped up two extra plates and set them down at the end of the block.
“Thanks, Marcel,” she said.
He gave a sharp nod and returned to his work. Harper led Red behind the kitchen to a small room with a round table and two chairs.
“He isn’t Pops?”
“No, that’s one of his sons,” Harper said. “His other son works as the bouncer.”
“Is this your private eating place?” Red asked.
Harper laughed. “More or less. Coffee?”
“Please.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“I may be a thief, but I do know basic manners.”
There was a low running board against the wall where an old, dented coffeepot sat, along with several clay mugs. Harper picked up two and filled them with the dark brew. “Sometimes we have sugar and goat’s milk to go with it, but not today.”
“It’s fine. I prefer it black.”
Unless you were at least comfortably well-off, sugar and milk, even goat’s milk, was a precious commodity. Without certification, getting such a luxury in the den would draw unwanted attention.
Harper set down each cup and
slid into the chair opposite. “You wanted to talk?”
Getting right to the point. He liked that about her. “I have a proposition for you.” He told her about the intel he’d received on the mask and that he planned on…appropriating it that night.
“I’m not a thief.” Her eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed.
“I know, I know,” Red said. “But I could—” He didn’t want to say ‘use’, although that’s what he was doing. “I mean I would feel safer with you along.”
She lifted her cup to her lips. “Oh?” She took a sip and eyed him over the rim.
Red knew people of culture considered it impolite to eat before the host, but he hadn’t had a satisfying meal in a week. And the eggs, thick slices of ham, and fresh biscuits were calling to him, so he started in, and after a few moments Harper followed suit, not upset. Red didn’t worship any gods, so there was no grace said either and Harper offered none. Gods were for others, the wealthy and devoted who, it seemed to Red, could not deal with their own demons. Most Gifted worshipped the Vine, but Innrone seemed to have no one deity.
“As I was saying, I suspect you could tell me if this was a safe venture?” Red asked.
“Since when is any thievery safe?”
Red laughed between mouthfuls. “Well said.”
They ate in silence from then on and it wasn’t until Harper had cleaned her plate that she pushed it aside and brought out her deck. Fascinated, Red put down his fork and watched as she laid out five in a cross pattern and put three others to her right facedown.
“The Lady of Lies. The Deceiver. The Piper.” She turned over the five. “The Knot. The Jack. The Prisoner.” Harper frowned as she turned over the last three. “Ace of Wands. The Reaper.” She looked up. “Who told you about this mask?”
“That rat, Felix.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Now why would he do that?”
“I had a talk with him after that incident. I suppose he figured giving this information would keep me from killing him.” At Harper’s look, he said, “But I had no plans to.”
Harper made no sign of whether she believed him but went back to the cards. “You know what the Reaper means, I assume?”
“I’m going to die?”
“Not necessarily,” Harper said. “It can mean a significant change or a new beginning. The Ace of Wands in this position is saying in the simplest terms that you lack direction.” She lifted her gaze to him again. “Should I continue?”
“Yes.”
“You saw the Lady of Lies and the Deceiver earlier and what they mean,” Harper continued. “Everyone knows the story of the Pied Piper and how he led the children away.” She tapped the card with the Knot. “This means that you are going to be in a situation that is impossible for you to escape without great cunning.”
Red tried hard not to smirk. Great cunning was something he had in droves.
“I wouldn’t recommend you go forward with your plans,” Harper said.
It was not what Red wanted to hear, but why ask the advice of a diviner if you would not follow it?
Something happened then. Red didn’t know what, but Harper’s expression went blank, as though she were no longer in the room but somewhere far away. Her pupils grew large, swallowing the deep brown of her eyes.
Then she screamed.
“Harper!” Red lunged across the table and grabbed her by the shoulders. A shudder passed through her body, and she seemed to come back to herself. There was fear in her eyes for a moment as they locked with his, and her mouth moved as though there was something urgent she needed to say.
“Harper!” Marcel rushed into the room with a meat cleaver clutched in his hand. “Get away from her, you bastard!”
“Shite.” Red knew there was no way he could explain in time. He released Harper and planted both hands on the table, pushing back. Marcel brought the cleaver down and missed Red’s arm by a hairsbreadth. In moments, Red took his second form, came to his feet, and let out a guttural growl.
“Demon!” Marcel cried.
Red crouched into a fighting stance and readied himself for the next attack when Harper’s voice halted everything. “Marcel, stop!”
“Harper?"
What did that freak do to you?”
“Marcel,” Harper chided, “you know better than that.”
It surprised Red when Marcel’s cheeks flushed. The big bad cook was reacting as though Harper were his mother! Red would have laughed if he didn’t believe that would reignite Marcel’s anger.
“I thought he hurt ye,” Marcel said. “Look at him!”
By then, Red had regained his human form.
“I swear, Harper, he was a demon! ...
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