It took Abrial some time to descend the long, rickety staircase. The light here was so yellow and dim and the shadows were so thick and dark that it was hard to see her own feet.
When she reached the bottom, she found that her head almost brushed the low ceiling. What a tiny fortune-telling cellar! She blinked harshly a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light.
What a weird little room! It was small and round, most of it cloaked in long shadows. There seemed to be a faint smoky lavender haze filling the place, and the smell of something sweet burning. Incense, maybe?
"Well, hello there!" a voice cackled. "Are you going to just stand there looking around like a lost little duck, hm?"
The voice's owner was an old woman lying on a pretty battered, worn embroidered couch that seemed to materialize out of the darkness when that voice spoke. The woman's hands rested behind her head lazily, and a rolled stick of some sort was poking out of her mouth. It was smoldering with a faint purple smoke. Abrial made a sour face. So that's what the haze was — someone was smoking. This woman's ratty robes were worn and gray, and her hair was pretty crazy — frizzy and gray and sticking up in all directions. She was grinning, showing crooked yellow teeth.
Abrial frowned, looking this odd woman up and down suspiciously. "Is the fortune teller here?"
The woman cackled, sitting up. "Do you see anyone else here?"
Abrial looked around, frowning. Nope. There was no one. Which meant…that this ratty old woman was the fortune teller, right? But…were fortune tellers normally so desolate-looking? For some reason, Abrial had the impression that a fortune teller would be wearing a lot of gold and look really mysterious, not like a crazy old hag.
"Are you really the fortune teller?" she asked, blinking.
"Ha!" The woman yacked, slapping her knees. Her misty eyes glittered up at Abrial strangely. They seemed to have a hint of gold in them. "You're a funny one! Yes, it's me. I'm Gananjag's one and only fortune teller, who performs face readings, salt scatterings, etc, etc! All for a price. One fourth of your gold pin should do the trick."
Abrial had just set down her sack by a dilapidated pouf and sat. When she heard that, she froze. The back of her neck tingled. She eyed this weird old woman narrowly, muscles tensing.
"How d'you know I had a gold pin?"
The woman grinned widely. She removed the purple smoking roll from her mouth with two fingers and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. It was lavender-colored and glittered slightly, dissipating into the haze of the room.
"Didn't you read the sign? It's my job to know things about you."
"Huh. I guess that makes sense!" Abrial leaned forward, suddenly filled with curiosity. A thought had struck her. "Hey, fortune-telling lady — if magic isn't allowed, how come you can keep out a fortune telling sign and not get killed? Did the laws change or something?"
The woman's dark eyes glittered in the yellow light of the lamps sitting on the table between them. Her crooked teeth glinted, too, like many golden coins inside her wide smile.
"You wish. I don't have a good answer to that question, but I can say for sure the laws haven't changed. Do magic in the streets, and you'll get a fate worse than death. As for me — honey, I've been doing this kind of thing forever, and I haven't been caught and executed yet! I guess I'm just special, hehe!"
The woman's eyes were intense and yet amused, glittering and yet dark as rain clouds. Abrial stared back into them, puzzled. This woman acted almost as weird as she looked. She could get a fate worse than death for fortune-telling, but she had a sign out there just telling the whole world she was a fortune teller? What kind of move was that? Was she trying to get caught, or what?
After a moment of trying to understand and then giving up, Abrial broke off half of her remaining piece of gold pin and held it out to the woman, who waved her hand.
"Eh, just put it in the jar. I'll lose it if I handle it."
Abrial looked down to see a totally empty, very dusty ceramic jar labeled, "MONEY JAR". She blinked a couple times, perplexed, and then dropped the pin in with a clink.
"All right, then." The woman flicked the smoke roll somewhere behind herself. Then she stood and stretched her hands up to the ceiling, as though waking from a long nap. There were many loud and concerning cracking noises as she stretched this way and that, rolling her neck and her rickety hips. Abrial frowned and stared, wondering just how old a person had to be to sound like a thousand acorns falling onto stone when they stretched. And also wondering whether it hurt a lot.
"AH! Much better. Everyone needs to get up and move around once in a while. Important to get the blood pumping again, heh!" The woman plopped herself back down onto the couch with a hop. A cloud of dust rose around her, which she waved away, grinning unbotheredly. "You, young woman…Hm. I'd say you're unnaturally fearless and have a tendency to rebel against authority. You despise doing what others tell you to, to the point that you do things harmful to yourself in order to defy them. You have little regard for your own wellbeing, especially bodily health. Watch out for that, hm? You don't want to break all your bones or cut out your own heart by accident!"
Abrial's face had flushed a deep red as she realized these descriptions were quite accurate. "Lady, where are you getting this from?"
The woman leaned forward and poked Abrial in the nose. Abrial flinched in shock and rubbed her nose automatically.
"Your face! You have quite an expressive face, if I do say so myself!"
Abrial continued to rub her nose fiercely, frowning a sour frown. "If you say so — but no poking my nose! Lady, I have an important question, and I don't have a lot of time. Can you tell me if my friend Finley's doing all right? I'm not interested in other things right now."
The woman cackled gleefully, leaning back into the couch cushions. "You're a funny one. Listen, honey — I can't just tell you what you want."
"Oh. Wait, what?" Abrial's face went even more sour. She frowned in irritation, grabbing her sack in preparation to leave. "Hey! You should've told me that beforehand! Then, I wouldn't have given you my gold! I could have used it for something else, like — like something better!"
As Abrial stood, the old woman moved like lightning. Her wrinkled, bony hand clamped around Abrial's wrist, holding her in place. Abrial spluttered and glared at the woman, pulling away, but the old hag's grip was surprisingly strong — like a band of iron! Just what kind of human was this lady? She looked like a sack of bones, but she was strong as a bear!
The old fortune teller grinned widely, eyes glittering.
"Now, now, come and sit back down, dearie. I've just started, hm? I promise to make it worth your while. I won't waste more than a teaspoon of your time!"
Abrial glared at the woman a little longer before the fortune teller succeeded in pulling her grumpily back into her seat.
"Now, now — I don't know what you've heard," the woman continued cheerfully, re-seating herself, "But fortune telling doesn't work that way, just answering whatever questions you want answered. Let me examine you, and if something comes up about your friend, it will. If it doesn't, it doesn't. But it might. I have a feeling it really might. Why don't we try and see?"
Abrial gritted her teeth, seething. "Okay, just — be quick about it! Because I need to get back to my friend ASAP, got it?"
"All right, all right. Calm your horses." The woman stood, bones crackling again like falling acorns.
Before Abrial knew what was happening, the woman had reached out and grabbed her by the jawbones with two hands and pulled her face into the lamplight to better inspect it, like some rare specimen.
"Hmm…" the woman muttered with great concentration, her face very close to Abrial's. Abrial could smell her sweet, smoky breath. She grimaced up at the woman dourly.
"What're you smoking? It reeks."
"Shh, shh. Hold still a moment."
After a minute, the woman finally released Abrial's face and flopped back onto the couch, her gleeful grin returning. Abrial furiously rubbed her jaw and wrinkled her nose, extremely irritated.
"Hey, old lady, I said no touching!"
"Heh! You said no poking."
"Same thing! You — "
"Now, listen close, dearie: I know you don't want to hear about love or marriage or your future right now, so I'll skim that part for you. But here are the basics, since it's customary to give a run-down, eh?" She cleared her throat. Then she grabbed the lamp and held it under her wrinkled face, which seemed somehow much younger and smoother in the lamp light, and dramatically and gravely gave the beginnings of Abrial's fortune.
"You, dearie, have lived a lonely life. The faded scar on your neck shows that you survived the Scarlet Plague at birth. Lucky you. You are reckless and rambunctious. You are untamed, and take joy in things that make your heart race. You are not very conscious of yourself and the workings of your own mind, and you are utterly inconsiderate of your physical safety. That is probably very annoying to your dear friend."
Abrial perked up hopefully at that word, "friend", but the woman moved on without a blink.
"You, dearie, desire freedom and discovery and adventure. You like to be constantly stimulated. You are physically gifted and can run many miles. You have a peculiar, dark, and muted spiritual energy. You are gifted with blades. You are deeply attached to either fighting with blades, or to the one who taught you to fight with blades. Or both, ha!"
Abrial's face softened. Instructor Wei's smile flickered in her mind. That was true. Instructor Wei was someone she deeply respected. Thinking about it now…would she ever get to see him again, with everything that had happened over the last two days? The thought of never seeing him again made her feel…empty.
Meanwhile, the old hag had continued without missing a beat:
"Now, everyone's favorite part: LOVE! The person you will fall in love with is someone stern and powerful. They are responsible, and have a gentle smile to contrast your bright grin. They are a rare beauty, and they are especially adept at —"