Hugo wiped some of the water from his mouth and then licked his fingers as if thirsty. “Course I know my name,” he said weakly. “What’s happened?”
The small room vanished, and Céline felt herself being whisked backward through the mists.
She opened her eyes to see Irmina sitting rigid.
“Well . . . did you see anything?”
“Yes,” Céline answered instantly. “He does wake. I don’t know how soon, but the time of day was sunset. I don’t think it could be further away than tonight or tomorrow, as his body couldn’t survive much longer without him drinking water properly.”
“But he wakes up? You saw him wake up?”
“Yes.”
Irmina leaned forward as if she was going to be sick. “Oh, thank you . . . thank you.”
“It’s all right.” Céline reached out to help her sit back up.
And suddenly, it was all right. She had just used her powers and helped someone, and she felt . . . glad. Before her ability to truly see into the future had surfaced, she’d spent five years pretending to read futures, and in the process, she’d often dispensed advice.
The latter came back to her as naturally as if she’d never stopped. “Listen to me,” she said. “Don’t sell the ring just yet. Evrard will not throw you out in the next day or two. Wait for Hugo to wake up, and once his mind is clear, ask for his thoughts on this matter. If he feels he’ll need weeks to heal, he might counsel you to sell it, but if he thinks he can go back to work sooner, you might be able to arrange something with Evrard—who would prefer to be paid, if possible. This way, Hugo will not accuse you of acting hastily, and you might yet be able to keep his grandmother’s ring.”
Irmina thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yes . . . yes, of course. I will wait.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Céline added. “Since the future has not happened yet, it can still be changed if the people involved take a different course of action. You must continue caring for Hugo exactly as you would have otherwise and try to pretend you never spoke to me. Continue to do just as you would have done for him before.”
Irmina nodded again. “I will. Thank you.” She suddenly appeared uncomfortable and stood up. “I don’t have any money to pay you, but when your roof needs repair, you come to me, and I’ll see that Hugo mends it.”
In the past, Céline had often bartered for her services. She smiled. “That would be most agreeable, and I’m glad . . . I’m glad I was able to give you good news.”
Irmina thanked her again and hurried for the door, probably anxious to get back home now.
Once alone, Céline allowed a few revelations to wash over her. First, she’d used her ability, and nothing horrible had happened as a result. Second, she’d enjoyed reading Irmina, helping Irmina. Perhaps . . . perhaps she could return to being a seer again.
Prince Anton had been quietly waiting for her to return to her previous state, though he never pressed her. As she had been unable to please him in this, being in his company had become a strain, and she’d come to dread being called up to the castle.
But now she felt a little lighter.
Walking through the shop, she made her way to the bedroom she shared with Amelie and opened up their wooden wardrobe. A few fine gowns hung there, and her gaze stopped on one of rich amber silk that Anton especially liked.
Suddenly, she wasn’t dreading the banquet tonight anymore.
Amelie Fawe wandered aimlessly through the market stalls in the village, in no hurry to make her purchases and head back to the Betony and Beech . . . not that she wasn’t proud of the apothecary’s shop. She was. Nor that she wasn’t grateful that she and her sister, Céline, had been given a home here in Sèone. Of course she was grateful.
Even the market here was a cheerful place, filled with stalls of colorful fruits and vegetables and steaming bread and bolts of cloth and candles. The people glowed with health and had nothing to fear while they remained inside the thick wall surrounding both the castle and the village.
No, it was more that in this safe place, Amelie didn’t feel useful.
Only this past spring, she and Céline had been living in a dark, lawless village called Shetâna. The sisters had been orphaned just over five years ago when Céline was fifteen and Amelie was twelve. Shetâna was under the control of Prince Damek, and Damek’s soldiers had viewed the people of the village as little more than prey to be abused.
Two orphaned girls had seemed easy targets at first, but Amelie had quickly proven that assumption wrong. She’d taken to wearing a dagger on one hip and a short sword on the other. She’d learned to rely on speed and the element of surprise, and she could cut a man open in a matter of seconds with her dagger.
Céline had learned to play the part of “seer” and had increased her knowledge of herb lore and healing. Amelie saw to their protection and day-to-day needs, while Céline earned most of their living. They depended upon each other.
However . . . here in Sèone, Prince Anton’s soldiers had come as quite a surprise. They actually viewed it as their duty to protect the people who lived here. Of course, this was a good thing. It simply left Amelie with little to do herself.
In addition to adjusting to this new state of affairs, she was also coming to terms with something else. Shortly after arriving here, Céline revealed that she was truly developing the ability to see the future—like their mother—and then Amelie discovered that she could read pasts. The latter was a revelation, as Amelie had never viewed herself as special, certainly not like Céline.
Céline had always been uncommonly pretty and could make most people do anything she wanted. Amelie was, well . . . different.
To begin, the sisters looked nothing alike. Céline was small and slender, with a mass of dark blond hair that hung down her back. She often wore a red velvet dress that fit her snuggly—in order to look the part of the seer—and her eyes were lavender.
Amelie had inherited their mother’s lavender eyes, but that was all.
Having recently observed her eighteenth birthday, Amelie was even shorter than Céline. But where Céline was slight, Amelie’s build showed a hint of strength and muscle. She despised dresses and always wore breeches, a man’s shirt, a canvas jacket, and boots. She’d inherited their father’s straight black hair, which she’d cropped into a bob. For years, she’d kept it at jaw-length, but of late, she’d let it grow, and now it hung to her shoulders.
Most people found her a bit peculiar, but she didn’t care.
Then . . . she’d made this discovery that she too had been born with a power—like her mother—only she could read pasts and not futures. She longed to put this ability to use, perhaps even to earn her and Céline some extra money. People often came to Céline to hear their futures, but there might be many reasons why someone would wish for a past to be read . . .
To find a lost object that had been put away and then the hiding place forgotten.
To solve a disagreement in which two people remembered a situation differently.
The possibilities were endless. But Céline was still so fragile after their experiences up at the castle—in which they’d been engaged to catch a murderer—that so far, she’d not been up to presenting the sisters as a pair of seers.
Amelie didn’t wish to press her and had decided not to use her own new power until Céline was ready as well.
But this all left Amelie with nothing to protect and nothing to do.
In addition to feeling useless, she was beginning to feel restless—and that only made her angry with herself for not appreciating their good fortune enough.