Wings of Darkness: Book 1 of The Immortal Sorrows Series (25 page)

     “Sure, Alex, we’d love to go with
you. Gwen and I usually go, anyway.”  His smile was so bright that it even
lit up his eyes.  I felt a pang in the region of my heart.  What was
wrong with me?  I should be happy.  The sweetest, smartest, cutest
boy in school wanted to go out with me.  So much so, he was willing to
hang out with my ball-busting best friend.  I should be happy. 
Instead, I kept thinking about a pair of storm-grey eyes, and I just wanted to
burst into noisy, snotty sobs.

***

     “Madame Fatima knows all, she sees
all, and she
tells
all!” 
A carnie paced back and forth in front of a large, striped tent, trying to drum
up business for the travelling fortune teller.  He was a short, round man,
dressed up in vintage gypsy garb, right down to the heavy black moustache and
fake gold tooth.  At least, I hoped it was fake, for his sake. 
 

     “Madame Fatima sounds like my kind
of girl!”  Gwen already had her wallet out of her purse.  “How much
is it,” she asked the gypsy.

     His grin widened, and he flashed
his gold tooth.  “For you, beautiful lady, I am free, or at least,
reasonable.”

     Gwen was not amused.  “Not for
you, jackass.  For the fortune teller?”

     He covered his heart with both of
his hands and looked devastated.  “You wound me, truly you do. However, if
we must talk business, so be it.  Madame Fatima, she will tell your past,
your present, and your future.  Cross her palm with gold, and the
universe’s secrets are yours for the asking.”  He spread his arms wide,
for dramatic effect.

     “I already know my past,
thanks.”  She held her wallet up for emphasis.  “All I have on me is
cash; no gold.  Take it, or leave it.”

     He held out an inviting hand, and
swept a bow towards the entrance.  “Cash is always welcome, and remember,
should you change your mind, I am very reasonable, also.” He winked at her,
even as she rolled her eyes at him.

     “I have a height requirement, which
you don’t meet.”  He didn’t seem to be even slightly offended.  He
probably didn’t meet a lot of women’s height requirements.

     “Gwen, you know this is a bunch of
crap, right?  Nobody can read the future.”

     I managed to get a disapproving
scowl out of the gypsy.  Awesome.  Gwen pretty much called him short
to his face, but I was the one who offended him. It figured. Guys made no sense
to me. “That is not true, young lady.  Madame Fatima knows all!”

     “Yeah, yeah, and she sees all, and
she tells all.”  I waved a hand to stop his spiel.  “I got all that,
but I still think it’s a load of crap.”  I shrugged.  Hey, to each their
own.  I’m a skeptic.

     Dark, gypsy eyes glittered
knowingly, and for a moment I felt that I had just fallen into a trap. 
“Then, perhaps you should go first.”  He swept the entrance flap back and
waited for me to take his dare.

     “I’m not that interested in my
future, but thanks anyway.  I like to be surprised.” I started to step
away, but Gwen nudged me with her elbow.

     “Go on, Iz. Where’s your sense of
adventure?  Alex won’t be back for a few minutes, and besides, it’s just
for fun.” I started to tell her where she could put her sense of adventure, but
she’d already shoved me inside the tent.  I’d had more than enough
adventure to last me a lifetime in the past few weeks.

     I’d hoped that Alex would pop back
up; he’d just gone to get us some drinks, but maybe the lines were really
long.  Another peek over my shoulder showed no Alex.  Just Gwen,
grinning like a fool and waving me on. I was glad that one of us was having
fun, at least.  This was a bad idea, I could just feel it, deep in my gut.

     My view was sharply cut off by the
tent flap coming down.  I took a second to let my eyes adjust to the dimly
lit tent.  A few candle flames danced weakly in tiny votive holders around
the edges of the perimeter.  There was a small round table placed in the
center of the tent, with a glowing crystal ball and a couple of candles in
hurricane jars on the table to add extra light. It was a huge difference from
the neon-lit midway, or even the walkways lit with literally thousands of jack
o’ lanterns. Incense perfumed the air heavily, and it smelled like a really
expensive candle shop.  It wasn’t unpleasant, but it could get
overwhelming pretty fast.

     “Well, don’t just stand there girl,
come into the light.  Let me have a look at you.”  I turned around
and practically ran into what could only be Madame Fatima.  I stepped back
quickly and grabbed at my racing heart.  She’d scared the bejesus out of
me.  From the quick smile she flashed, I didn’t think it was by accident,
either.

     Madame Fatima was a larger lady,
only a couple of inches taller than me, but pleasantly plump.  She had a
wild head of perfectly coiled, orange curls held in place by a bright, purple
scarf. Its ends trailed over her shoulder, and blended in with the many beaded
necklaces she wore.  She made a sort of tinkling sound when she moved,
like a wind chime in constant motion. I watched her warily as she went to the
small table, and motioned for me to come forward. 

     She plopped down on a folding chair
and wiggled around until she was comfortably settled. I cringed as the chair
groaned under her. “Come along, girl, I can read nothing for you over there.”

     “I think this is a mistake. 
My friend,” I motioned back towards the entrance, “she’s your customer. 
She’s definitely the one you want.”

     “Oh, nonsense.” She made a ‘tsking’
sound and motioned me forward, again. “There are no such things as mistakes,
only unexpected opportunities.  Now, quit dilly-dallying and come over
here.  I’m not getting any younger, you know.”  I don’t know what I
had expected.  Someone dark and mysterious?  This round, bossy little
woman reminded me of the next door neighbor we’d had when I was a little
girl.  They even kind of looked alike.  Except the fortune teller
didn’t seem to have a yappy little dog hanging around.

     I found myself moving towards her,
against my better judgment.  Gwen was right, I was being silly.  What
could it hurt? It was all just for fun. “So what do you do: read palms or gaze
into your crystal ball, or something like that?”  I dropped down into the
folding chair and winced at the coldness.  It was unseasonably warm for
late October, but still not warm enough for a metal chair.  If I weren’t
careful, I’d have frostbite in some unfortunate places.

     “I do a bit of everything,
dear.  Now, give me your hand.”  She reached across the table and
took my hand with both of hers.  Dozens of rings glittered on short, thick
fingers.  Bangles and beads jangled along both of her wrists.  Her
grip was gentle, but viselike, and her skin was hot, especially compared to
mine.  I started to pull my hand back.  “Shhh, hush now, dearest,
you’re in no danger from me.”  Maybe she
could
read minds.  “I just want to
have a look at a few things, is all; just relax.” 

     She ran her forefinger along my
trapped palm, traced the lines and grooves on my hand as if she were studying a
map.  Sweat prickled along my scalp, in spite of the cool temperature, and
my heart kicked up a notch.  I cleared my throat.  “Shouldn’t we
discuss your fee?”

     Madame Fatima glanced up at me and
winked.  “For a skeptic such as yourself, I feel that I must prove my
worth.  Save your money until after we’re done.”

     “I’m really not that
skeptical.”  Eh, who was I trying to kid?  I’m entirely that
skeptical.

     She grinned at me knowingly, and
flashed a chipped, yellow eyetooth.  “I know more of your secrets than you
do, child.  When I say you are a skeptic, I am being most charitable.”

     I shrugged.  “That’s no big
secret.  Body language will tell you that I’m not comfortable.”

     She cackled softly, as she pulled
my hand closer to the light.  “Aren’t you the clever one? Yes, body
language tells me quite a bit about a person, but I have other tricks up my
sleeve besides that one.  Now, just relax. Business is slow tonight, so
get comfortable.”

     Silence stretched out.  She
was quiet for so long, I began to get nervous. “So, do you see anything good?”

     “I wouldn’t say, ‘good,’ nor would
I say, ‘bad.’”  She turned my hand back and forth under the flickering
candlelight.  “I see several points of interest, but this only shows me
part of the bigger picture.”

     “How about a hint?”  I didn’t
believe in fortune tellers, but curiosity is part of human nature. Not
that it mattered.  She wasn’t ready to give anything away, just yet.

     “Well, for one thing, your love
life is a mess.”

     I snorted.  “My love life is
non-existent.”  Unless you counted a couple of dates with Alex, which I
really didn’t.  Unexpectedly, Asher’s face flashed through my mind.  Asher
who hadn’t put in an appearance for days; not since he’d tried to brain-wash
me. I hated the disappointment I felt.  Hated that I missed him. 
He’d ditched me; he didn’t deserve to be missed.  Jackass.

     “Really?  A teenaged girl with
no interest in her love life?  I’ve really seen everything, now.” 
She let go of my hand and watched me with shrewd, dark eyes. “Let’s see,
then.”  What did that mean?  I should know if my love life were a
mess, if anyone did.  I’d say it was pretty much non-existent.

     She reached inside the bright,
yellow vest she wore over her blood-red maxi dress and drew out a large deck of
tarot cards.  She handed them across the table to me.  “Here, cut the
cards, if you please, then hand the deck back to me.” The cards were pretty;
elaborately designed, and cool to the touch. They seemed to hum with an energy
all of their own.  It was a strange to me.  I could feel the energy
in living things, now, but this was entirely a new sensation for me.  I
felt silly, but I did as I was told; I cut the cards half a dozen times and
slid them across the table to her.

     “Now, I will spread the cards, and
when I do, I want you to pick three cards at random. These cards represent your
past, present, and future.”  Oh, good, so no pressure.

     The cards fanned out in front of me
rapidly, and smoothly. The golden backs glinted with strange whorls and designs
that seemed to move by themselves. That had to be a trick of the flickering
candlelight… didn’t it?  I didn’t give it much thought; just pulled three
random cards and left them separated from the deck, face down in front of the
fortune teller.  I didn’t believe in this stuff, anyway.

    The pseudo-gypsy passed her hand over the
cards I selected, and very carefully flipped the first card over with the tip
of her ruby-red nail.  “Now, this is interesting,” she said as she tapped
the card. “This is the Tower. This represents your past.”  I stared at a
picture of a tower engulfed in flames, with lightning striking from above, and
people falling through the air, presumably after they’d jumped.  Talk
about getting out of the frying pan and into the fire.  The longer I
stared at it, the more real the picture seemed to become.  The flames
licking the tower looked like they were dancing and spreading.  I blinked
hard, several times, and looked away as I took a deep breath.

     “Ok, I’ll bite; what’s it mean?”
She watched me closely.

     Again, she tapped her nail against
the tower card, for emphasis. “Turned this way, upright, it means upheaval and
change.”

     “That’s not so hard to figure out;
I’m graduating this year and starting college in the fall.  There is my
change.  I didn’t need a fortune teller, after all.”

     “Not so fast, this card represents
your past, remember?  It can also mean disaster, or a revelation. Have you
had any revelations?” 

     Any recent revelations or disasters?  Oh, hell,
where did I even begin?  I almost laughed, right in her face.  “Aren’t you
supposed to be telling me?  You’re the psychic, here; not me.” I don’t
believe in psychics, but she was hitting awfully close to home.

     She snorted.  “Lord, but I do
love a cynic.  Alright, just wait, little doubter. It all has to be looked
at as a whole.  Let’s see what the next card says.”

     She flipped the next card. A man
and a woman stood beside two trees.  Above them hovered an angel, wings
outspread.  “The Lovers?” I’d cheated and read the bottom of the
card.  “You must be joking?”

    Madame Fatima cackled.  “This
represents your present situation.  Don’t worry; I can see you are a very
practical young lady.  No fairytale romance for you.”  No kidding;
that was already painfully obvious.  Prince Charming was an asshole. 
An over-bearing, blonde-headed asshole.

     “So what does it mean?”

     She straightened up when she caught
me glaring at her. “It really isn’t about ‘he loves me, he loves me not,’ you
know.  Most people think that, but they’re wrong.  No, this card, it
means choice. 
Your
choice.  It can, of course mean that you will meet a tall, dark
stranger.”  She locked her eyes on mine.  “Or have you already met a
tall, dark stranger?  Or a tall, blond stranger, perhaps? 
Hmm?”  I had the uneasy feeling that Madame Fatima knew way more about me
than she was letting on.  She looked human enough, but that didn’t mean
much.  Was this some kind of a trap? 

     I sat back in my chair, suddenly
uncomfortable, and crossed my arms over my chest. “Nope.  I haven’t. 
Try again.”

     “Alright, let’s see what the last
card has to say, then we can figure out what they’re trying to tell you.” 
The last card was turned, only to reveal a skeletal figure in dark armor. 
Death.  I didn’t need a fortune teller to tell me what this card
was.  In the skeleton’s hand was a flag; a white rose set on a black
field.  Behind the figure of Death was a rising sun.  I went cold all
over and a strange buzzing started in my ears.  It was a trap.  It just
hadn’t snapped shut on me, yet.