“But I just heard the bell ring eight times,” objected Binkton.
“It marked the end of the dog watch,” said Lissa. “Now we begin first watch.”
“Argh!” spat Binkton. “Bells. Watches. Just tell me how many candlemarks till Lady Aylis does her reading.”
“Old candlemarks or new?” asked Pipper.
“I don’t care!” shouted Binkton, totally frustrated. “Just tell me.”
Aylis held out a soothing hand. “I will do the reading at mid of night, Binkton.”
“That’s the end of first watch, when the bell tolls eight,” said Lissa.
Even as Binkton growled, Pipper said, “Liss, perhaps you ought to teach us all about these watches and bells.” He turned to his cousin. “We do need to know, Bink. I mean, after all, we now are part of the crew.”
As Binkton grudgingly nodded his acceptance, Aylis said, “I welcome any who would like to participate in the reading.”
“Lady Aylis, I would ask a question if I may,” said Pipper.
Aylis inclined her head.
“Why now?” asked Pipper.
“It’s not now, Pip,” snapped Binkton, still riled. “Didn’t you hear: it’s at eight bloody bells.”
“No, Bink, what I mean is, why did Lady Aylis wait until now to decide to do a reading? I mean, she and the captain have known for a long while about a peril that might or might not be in the city. So why did Lady Aylis wait until this night to do a reading?”
“Oh,” said Binkton, now catching up to another of Pipper’s mental leaps.
“Because,” said Aylis, “ ’tis best when all who will be on a given venture are assembled. You see, the acts of one might affect the deeds of many; hence, the presence of the crew entire influences the cards. Even so, I will do another reading when we are at the mouth of the river, to see if ought has changed.”
At mid of night, when the ship’s bell tolled eight, Pipper, Binkton, Lissa, Nikolai, and Aravan joined Aylis in the salon. Noddy, Tarley, Fat Jim, and James had all bowed out, leaving the others to witness such doings.
They were seated ’round a side table in the captain’s lounge. Lissa sat cross-legged on the board, and Vex lay curled up below.
Upon the table as well sat the jade figurine and a small wooden box made of sandalwood. A tiny golden hasp latched the box. Aylis opened the clasp and raised the lid. Inside was a black silk cloth wrapped about something. Aylis unfolded the cloth to reveal a deck of cards.
“This is the gift of Lady Katlaw,” said Aylis.
“Are the cards special?” asked Pipper.
“Pish,” murmured Binkton, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.
“Perhaps, Pipper,” Aylis answered as she spread out the cloth. “ ’Tis said some decks are more powerful than others, yet to a Seer it is the casting that reveals whatever might be.” Taking the pack in hand, she began shuffling, blending and cutting the cards time and again, and on the final shuffle she murmured, “Simplicia, propinqua futura: Aylis.” Setting the pack before her, she fanned the deck wide across the silk and selected a card at random and turned it faceup. It showed a lightning-struck tower bursting apart, stone blocks flying wide, a person falling from the castellated top. Aylis glanced up at those watching.
“What does it mean?” asked Lissa.
Pipper blurted, “Disaster? Trouble?”
Aylis nodded. “In this orientation, you are correct.”
Nikolai glanced from the card to the jade figurine. “This tower, that tower, all same?”
Aylis shrugged. “Mayhap, Nikolai. Mayhap.” She reached out and slowly canted up and over one of the end cards of the lapping, spread such that the remainder of the deck turned faceup. Revealed were a variety of illustrations-people and places and animals, the sun, moon, and stars. . cups, swords, wands, coins, more-each card different: some apparently representing the ordinary, others depicting the arcane.
Nikolai drew slightly back at the sights revealed, but Pipper leaned forward, the better to see.
Aylis looked at Lissa. “Would you care to try?”
Lissa drew in her breath sharply but said, “All right.”
Again Aylis shuffled and muttered, “Simplicia, propinqua futura: Aylissa.” Then she fanned the cards, and Lissa walked to the spread and dragged one free and flipped it face up.
“ ’Tis the Knight of Swords, upright,” said Aylis.
“What does it mean?” asked Lissa.
“Victory over a dire foe, in this orientation, though perhaps at great peril.”
Pipper’s eyes widened in speculation. “Is it somehow related to the tower?”
“Mayhap,” said Aylis.
Nikolai refused to draw a card, but Aravan, Binkton, and Pipper each in turn selected, respectively turning up the Tower, Strength, and the Fool, all upright.
Aylis said, “My love, you and I share trouble. And you, Binkton, the way your card, Strength, is oriented, you must not surrender, else all will fail. As to your card, Pipper, the Naif, indicates that you will be at a cross-roads and face a decision, and you must choose wisely.”
“Oh, my,” said Pipper. He turned to Binkton and asked, “When ever have I chosen wisely?”
“Oh, Pip,” said Binkton, reaching out to place a hand on his cousin’s arm, “you always seem to come up with something.”
“Like the chickens?” asked Pipper, grinning.
Binkton laughed. “Yes, Pip. Like the chickens.”
“You must tell me of these chickens,” said Lissa. “And then I’ll explain the watches and bells.”
“Agreed,” said Pipper, “though in the end my idea of using chickens didn’t lead to one of our finer moments.”
Aylis looked at the others and said, “I now seek the fate of all of us on the Eroean .” She then again shuffled and cut, and this time she uttered, “Propinqua futura nautae Eroean ,” then swiftly dealt out ten cards face down, placing each one precisely upon the silk in a particular spread, muttering strange words as she did so. When she set the remainder of the pack to the lower left corner of the black cloth, she said, “This is the simplest and perhaps the most reliable spread. It is called the Rwn Cross, and it speaks of the past, the present, and the future, of negatives and positives, of companions and foes, of causes and outcomes.”
Then she turned up the cards, carefully leaving each one in its precise place in the pattern.
Long did Aylis study the arrangement, and finally she took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “Swords. There are many swords in the layout and all reverse, all opposed, which means conflict and battle. As to the individual cards, this is what I see. . ”
Aylis pointed to the first of the cards she had laid down. “Death covers us. Someone or something threatens our very existence.”
“As have many in the past,” said Aravan. “Yet we prevail.”
Aylis smiled at Aravan and nodded. She then lightly touched the card lying athwart the first one. “The King of Swords crosses us, and in this orientation he is someone who is intolerant and cruel.”
“Modru,” breathed Pipper.
“Pip, you idiot,” said Binkton, “Modru is dead.”
“No, Bink, what I meant is that Modru was intolerant and cruel. So, this could be someone like him, Lady Aylis?”
Aylis shook her head. “The King of Swords is not powerful enough to be Modru. Instead, he likely would be the card named the Emperor, for when reversed, it can be even crueler than this king.”
She pointed at the next card, this one lying directly downcloth from the first two. “The Ten of Swords is the basis of the situation. It means broken goals and deep distress lie at the heart of the matter.”
“Perhaps it’s why the city was abandoned,” suggested Lissa.
Aylis shook her head. “No; ’tis more likely goals the King of Swords had.”
“Well, could not that king once have ruled the city?” asked Dokan.
“Perhaps,” said Aylis. “Yet the King is what crosses us now, and though that might be something rooted in the distant past, I think instead the broken goals refers to events more recent.”
Moving deasil and to the left of the first two, at the following card she said, “Behind us is what has gone
