Nojan looked to Mayra for guidance. Sadly, she didn’t have any. She’d only seen the woman, not what came next. She gave the Vartik a shrug, suddenly at a loss on how to proceed.
The male smiled wryly. “Madam, we’d like to know the future.”
The old woman laughed. “Wouldn’t everybody? Well, you came to the right place. A lovely young couple like you, perhaps you’d like to consult the omens as to an appropriate wedding date?”
Mayra blushed, grateful that the visor concealed much of her face. Nojan, however, responded with a light laugh. “How did you know?”
The woman tapped a finger against her temple. “I see the future, remember?” She rose slowly and shuffled over to a cabinet that nearly bowed under the weight of objects, books, and what could only be called odds and ends. “The only way to do a proper reading is to consult the star charts. They will reveal the perfect date for your nuptials. But first…” She pulled out a bundle of what looked like weeds. “I sense some lingering objection to your marriage, something or someone that is standing in the way.”
Nojan blinked hard. “You really are prescient.”
Nodding, the old woman moved to one of the candles burning around the edges of the tent. “I will try and cleanse you of the obstacles standing in your way.” She lit the weeds and they let off a thick smoke immediately. “Don’t worry. I won’t charge you extra for this. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“Thank you,” Nojan said, then barked out a harsh cough. “That’s powerful stuff.”
“Only the best. Sweetgrass like this still grows only in a few spots on Territh, so it costs a pretty penny. It should do the trick nicely.” She walked around the chamber, waving the smoking weeds around and mumbling something under her breath.
Once she’d made a circuit, she popped the smoldering bundle into a thick glass vase, then returned to the shelf to grab a large roll of paper. Returning to the table, she unrolled it carefully, setting crystals on the edges to hold it down.
On the paper was a complicated star chart, teeming with concentric circles, dotted lines, and writing so small Mayra couldn’t make it out from her position.
“Let’s see,” the old woman said, running her hands over the chart in slow circles. “It would help to have your birth dates to begin.”
Nojan nodded. “I was born in the seventh cycle of the eighteenth rotation within the hundred and fourth progression of this system’s star.”
The woman nodded. “Hmm, by my calculation, that would be the twenty-fifth of November, using the ancient Territh calendar. That means you are ruled by Jupiter. And that you’re curious and kind.”
“Thank you,” he replied, giving her a nod.
“And you, young lady?”
The woman’s eyes made her feel uncomfortable, and Mayra had to remind herself that little could be seen through the visor. “Um, I’m not…”
Nojan chuckled. “You know women, never wanting to reveal anything related to their age. My darling bride-to-be was born in the fourteenth cycle of the ninth rotation within the hundred and first progression.”
“Of course,” the woman said with a smile. “Leave it to a Sagittarius to find an Aries for his bride. Your marriage will never be boring. That’s for certain.” She began to study the chart in earnest, writing on the surface with a grease pencil that she could smudge out when a recalculation was required.
Mayra began to feel lightheaded, the smoke and incense causing a curious out-of-body sensation to sweep over her. She wondered when the reason for their being there would reveal itself. Could she have been mistaken? Was her vision nothing more than an overactive imagination? Was she wasting valuable time?
“Mars and Jupiter, a contrast that invites adventure.” The old woman was mumbling, and Mayra wondered if she even realized she was speaking out loud. “Fire against fire, but will one consume the other?”
Chills suddenly ran down Mayra’s spine. In her unease, she instinctively clutched at the charm around her neck, needing to the feel the weight in her hand.
“What’s that, child?” the woman asked, and Mayra realized she was staring at her.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Mayra said, letting the charm drop. “Just a bauble, nothing more.”
The old woman’s eyes widened. “A bauble, you say?” she murmured, rising to her knees to shuffle closer. “May I have a look?”
Mayra suddenly wanted to tuck the necklace away, to grab Nojan by the arm and haul him out of the tent. Instead, she sat frozen while the woman crept closer to peer at the charm.
“How did you come by this bauble, child?” The old woman’s voice was strange. No longer playful, Mayra could sense the steel beneath her words.
“I—I don’t remember.”
The woman was attempting to stare into her face as if she could will her way past the reflective surface of the visor. “Who are you?” she whispered.
“No one,” Mayra said, backing away. Before she could climb to her feet, the woman leaned in and, fast as a whip, snatched the visor off her face.
“It’s you,” she moaned, her jaw falling open, her eyes wide. Blue eyes similar to her own, Mayra realized now.
“You know her?” Nojan asked, his face a mask of concern. “How do you know her?”
“Why shouldn’t I know her?” the old woman snapped, then gave a deep belly laugh. “She’s my daughter.”
Mayra felt as if the world had dropped out from underneath her.
