“Fine. You intended to peddle something relatively harmless?”
“In legal terms, yes.”
“What did you give him instead?”
Margot looked extremely uncomfortable, which didn’t suit her. “I sat down at the table,” she said, by way of answer. She suited action to words, and sat, her hands in her lap. Closing her eyes, she straightened her shoulders and neck, lifting her hands so they rested palms down on the tabletop. She then lifted her hands, turning the palms in, toward the crystal ball.
Kaylin felt her skin begin to tingle. Magic. It wasn’t a strong magic; it was a normal one. The ball itself was likely enchanted. Then again, so were all the streetlamps. Magic was not illegal, Kaylin’s frequent, fervent wishes aside. The ball began to glow. It wasn’t with the radiance of streetlamps, though. “Is the room usually dark?”
“It’sambient,” Margot replied.
“So...darker than this.”
“Yes.” Her grimace ruined the otherwise perfect picture she presented.
“So you set the ball glowing, and...?”
“I could not release it. I couldn’t move my hands away from its surface.” She did move her hands now, as if testing the ball for defects. “I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t look away from the ball itself. I think I managed to blink.”
Kaylin was now looking carefully at the ball, which appeared slightly magical but otherwise normal. Magic left visible sigils to Kaylin’s eye—but only strong magic. This was not strong. “Can I ask you to stand now, please?”
Margot seemed quite happy to be free of the chair, as if describing what had happened was like reliving the experience.
“Anything?” Severn asked.
Kaylin frowned and shook her head. “Nothing that I can see. If there was magic practiced, it didn’t require a lot of power. Sorry, Margot. You can sit again if you want.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
Kaylin nodded. “So, you looked into the ball as part of your regular routine.”
Margot nodded. “I also burn incense during these readings.”
“Anything special about the incense?”
“...No.” Which meant yes, but Margot was breathing it in as well, so it couldn’t be deadly. She didn’t like Margot, it was true. She also hated paperwork, and wasn’t willing to do it if it weren’t for something she considered practical.
“I’m not sure how this normally works,” Kaylin continued, because she wasn’t. She was often ignorant—which she hated—but didn’t consider herself stupid. Spending money in Margot’s parlor was stupid. “Did he ask questions?”
“Yes. In general, there’s discussion, a building of rapport.”
The image of the man—still captured in Margot’s personal Records—didn’t imply rapport would be particularly welcome, at least not on his part. “Records, reenact,” Margot said.
The man in the image began to move. “My apologies, Madame Margot,” he said, his voice the type of hard-soft that set Kaylin’s teeth on edge. “I have done some research on the various fortune-tellers in Elani—and elsewhere in Elantra. I would not have taken the time to visit you had it not been for one infamous difficulty in the past year.”
Whatever Margot had said in response, the mirror that looked like a painting hadn’t captured.
“The current custodian of the Oracular Halls, however, is not at all flexible, and any visit to the Oracles requires official Imperial permission. You, on the other hand, are rumored to be discreet. Discretion is a useful trait. I suggest you remember it.”
“Is the part where you punch him in the mouth and boot him out of your store coming up anytime soon?” Kaylin asked. The urge to punch his image in the mouth had caused her hands to curl in fists.
“No, sadly. I did say I couldn’t move, didn’t I?” For the first time, however, she smiled, and Kaylin smiled back.
“I have a few questions that associates of mine need answered. They are currently extremely busy men. I wish you to look at these items, and I wish you to look into your crystal ball. Ah, forgive me,” he added. He stood and walked around the table; Records capture was centered on him.
Margot entered the frame as he approached her. She looked poised, elegant, cool—and annoyed. Kaylin doubted very much that she would have looked half as calm had she been in Margot’s position, and a certain admiration tugged at her.
“First.” The man lifted a feather.
