seeing the forge empty, they assumed that the inner chamber was empty also.
Illyra dared not step outside to find out.
She shuffled and handled the deck of fortune-telling cards, acquiring a measure
of self-control from their worn surfaces. Palming the bottom card, Illyra laid
it face-up on the black velvet.
‘Five of Ships,’ she whispered.
The card was a stylized scene of five small fishing boats, each with its net
cast into the water. Tradition said that the answer to her question was in the
card. Her gift would let her find it -if she could sort out the many questions
floating in her thoughts.
‘Illyra, the fortune-teller?’
Illyra’s reverie was interrupted by her first patron before she had gained a
satisfactory focus in the card. This first woman had problems with her many
lovers, but her reading was spoiled by another patron stepping through the door
at the wrong time. This second patron’s reading was disrupted by the fish-smoker
looking for Dubro. The day was everything the Face of Chaos had promised.
The few readings which were not disrupted reflected her own despair more than
the patron’s. Dubro had not returned, and she was startled by any sound from the
outside canopy. Her patrons sensed the confusion and were unsatisfied with her
performance, Some refused to pay. An older, more experienced S’danzo would know
how to handle these things, but Illyra only shrank back in frustration. She tied
a frayed rope across the entrance to her fortune-telling room to discourage
anyone from seeking her advice.