“Good thing I don’t need your belief,” I said. “Just the coin.”
“It will do you no good.” She drew it into her hand again, a burning copper flame rolling between finger and thumb.
“If I keep it, I will grant you a boon. I will look into your future. Or the future of any person you wish to know about.”
Could she do it? Probably. She was a seer.
Did I want to know the future? Mine, Card’s, maybe if his sister was alive to have a future? Sure.
But I didn’t have to be a seer to know that if we didn’t get these coins back to Fate, Card’s tree would die. Then he would too. Slowly.
For reasons I didn’t want to name, my heart just couldn’t abide in a world where there wasn’t one particularly annoying, chaotic dryad-wizard wandering around.
I held out my palm. “Just the coin. And we’ll be done here.”
For a moment, I thought she would refuse. After all, she had Fate’s coin in her fingers. But her gaze shifted back to Card, to the tree, to me.
She flipped the coin, sending it spinning into the air between us.
I snatched it out of flight and gasped softly as its power came in contact with my skin. It was heady and alluring. Almost as if the coin were begging to be spent.
It was a damn wonder Card hadn’t spent them all in one go.
“I appreciate you holding up your end of the bargain,” I said, dropping the coin safely into my pocket.
“It wasn’t going to do me much good, was it?” At my confused look, she chuckled. It was genuine and made her look even more beautiful.
“You will understand soon enough, I expect. Fate’s coins are not the easy gold they’re assumed to be. Good luck with that.” She waved a finger in Card’s general vicinity.
“Thanks.”
“My tree!” a deep voice yelled out. “Who moved my tree?”
Lilt Keyva’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Better go,” she whispered. Then she pressed a finger against her lips, telling me to be quiet, and started off toward the voice.
“Keyva! Was that you? Did you...move my tree?”
“Oh, be quiet, Gary,” she called out, her voice carrying like a rung bell on a clear day. “No one can move a tree that big.”
I made my way back to Card. He still lay on his back, eyes open now, staring at the limbs and sky above, like he’d just fallen from a great height.
“Everything’s fuzzy,” he mumbled. “Why is everything so fuzzy?”
“Because you just about broke your brain mixing the wizard magic and dryad magic you are not supposed to mix.”
“Even my back is fuzzy. Am I fuzzy? My skin. Ricky, is my skin fuzzy? How soft am I? Soooo soft.” He smiled, and his eyes unfocused.
I bit back a laugh and crouched.
“You aren’t fuzzy. You’re massively magic hungover. Which means we’re notWalkinghome.”
“Okay, Ricky. Okay.Walking’stoo...” He lifted one hand and sort of gave a limp wave. “Fuzzy.”
I snorted. “You are a mess.”
The smile that spread over his face was wonderous. “Fuzzy? A fuzzy, fuzzy mess.”
ChapterNine
