“How?” whispered Gilla then. “Seeress, show me how it will be!”
Illyra held the remaining cards fanned out in her thin hand. “First the Lance of
Winds-“
The card she set down bore the images of storm and tornado. “This represents our determination to see this done. And this one is for our fear…”
She set another card above it, on which a triumvirate of robed and hooded figures stood pointing at a kneeling man. “Justice,” came the whisper, and Gilla licked suddenly dry lips, understanding even without explanation that this represented the dead children for whom they sought revenge.
“Our hope is for justice, and therefore I set Sanctuary’s tribunal here-“
Illyra’s voice had a rhythmic resonance, and her eyes seemed to look through the card to some other reality. Gilla realized that the S’danzo was Seeing them as truly as ever she had in a querent’s reading, and she wondered suddenly if in choosing just these cards for Lalo to paint first, Illyra had been guided by something more than chance, and if her selection of them now was the result of her will to vengeance, or some subtle working of that Pattern Illyra had denied.
Gilla shivered, for now the S’danzo was wholly entranced, and she felt a heaviness in the air around them as if unseen forces waited around her to see what the final card would be. The magic of the mages had been broken, but, clearly, she and Illyra were drawing now upon deeper powers.
Without looking at the cards still in the pile, Illyra took one and set it above all the rest. Gilla stared at it, her gaze burned by swirling patterns of red and gold, and the beauty of a woman’s face staring out of the flames. Even seen upside down that face seared the sight. She forced her gaze away and saw the appalled wonder in Illyra’s eyes.