She unrolled the cloth onto the rug, revealing a long, sharp dagger, with a big yellow jewel mounted in its hilt. The candlelight reflected off the well kept steel and filled the precious gem with sparkling glimmers. Gerard took one look at the blade and grimaced at Hyden fearfully. The old crone hadn’t bothered to look up from her lap, but responded to his unease as if she could see his expression.
“Only one drop of blood, little brother,” She chuckled. “That’s all it’ll take.”
Gerard’s eyes widened. He didn’t think he looked any younger than Hyden. Besides that, she was supposed to be blind. Wasn’t she? To anyone who could see, it was obvious that they were brothers, but how could she tell which one was the oldest? And how could she see through those dead, bloodshot eyes? The thought was as unsettling to him as it was frightening.
Hyden was no more comfortable than his younger sibling. Since they had been in the tent, he had felt the presence of a fourth person amongst them. He searched the little area with his eyes, and saw nothing that could validate his suspicions; nevertheless, he felt something there. His thoughts were yanked away as she grabbed his hand, squeezed it, and pricked his finger all in one smooth, powerful motion. He tried to pull away, but with an otherworldly strength, she held his arm fast, until several drops of his blood had dripped into the bowl. He looked at Gerard with alarm showing plainly on his face.
Gerard grinned with delight at Hyden’s expression of absolute terror. It wasn’t often that he got to see his brother in such a state. Even though the sight ratcheted up his own fear a few dozen notches, he found himself pleased that they had come here.
Hyden let out a sigh of relief when the old woman finally let go of his hand. He sat back with a look of grim satisfaction, and enjoyed Gerard’s terror when he felt the old crone’s unnaturally strong grip latch onto him. Hyden almost laughed out loud, but that strange feeling came over him again, and he darted his eyes around in search of its cause.
The woman, after letting go of Gerard, hawked loudly, drawing both of the boys’ full attention to her. She spat a fat, yellow wad of phlegm into the bowl of bloody bones and then began to chant, as she stirred the mess with the dagger’s tip. The chant grew rhythmic and louder as she went on and on, and suddenly, in a shuddering fit, she tumbled the bowl’s contents onto the carpet before her. She threw herself forward and down, as if pressing her face to the ground to pray. She wheezed and rasped for breath, as she studied the throw of bones up close.
Hyden almost shoved her up, as her nest of hair missed being set afire by the flickering candles on the plate by only a finger’s breath. He started to warn her, but she suddenly jerked back upright and stared out into empty space. This caused both boys to jump, but the look on the woman’s face caused the color to drain completely from them.
She had eyes now, but they were like no eyes either of the boys had ever seen before. The pupils were deep crimson, with tiny white speckles across them, and the irises that surrounded them, were a ring of flickering yellow flame. The depth of the creases in her ancient face had lessened, and her hair now seemed to be flowing in place, and was as shiny as spun gold. It was as if she had aged backwards half a hundred years in an instant, and taken on the eyes of a demon.
Hyden wanted to look at his brother, but was afraid to pull his eyes away from the woman. Gerard was transfixed as well. Both of them were truly terrified now, but curiosity’s grip wouldn’t release them. She started speaking in a voice that sounded like falling icicles shattering on rock.
“First born,” her head turned slightly towards Hyden as the words came. “You will soar through the sky with your newfound friend. You will save the life of one that despises you, and then mourn his death. You will help a king find a king, and then you will triumph in a tower. Someday, you will watch helplessly as one you love dearly attempts to destroy what the one that sits beside you is to become.” She paused, and shook her head back and forth.
“There is more there, so much more, but it is unclear. I see you struggling to survive in the nether regions of hell, your body, full of poison, and your heart, full of fear. But why or how, I cannot see.”
“What about me?” Gerard blurted out, in an angry sounding and commanding tone.
A long silence ensued. Hyden couldn’t imagine mourning the death of someone that despised him, and he couldn’t fathom leading a king anywhere. Nor could he see himself watching helplessly as someone tried to kill Gerard. It all seemed so far-fetched, that he didn’t even want to consider it. He would’ve dismissed it all as nonsense, had the crone not spoken of him soaring with the hawkling. He shared dreams with the bird already. Her tone, and the wicked look in her eyes, made him feel that at least she believed what she had said. Somehow, she had seen these events. He was sure of it, and it scared him no end.
“The second son of Harrap,” the woman hissed, and her head whipped towards Gerard.
Hyden let his distracting thoughts slip away so that he could better listen to what she had to say about his brother.
“You will journey far and you will learn the truth of love. Often, you will get your way with those around you. You’ll climb to the top of the blackest fang, and you may, or may not, be betrayed there. You will find the power you long for in the depths of those heights, and you will use it to command legions. But that will come later. Sooner, you will want more than you came for, and it will cost you your life. You will die Gerard Skyler, but you will live again. You will die and live again!”
The air around them crackled and popped. The old woman’s face was wrinkled and withered again. She gave Hyden a blank look that might have been full of fear, then began coughing and gasping for breath.
Gerard didn’t notice. He was in a trance brought on by the woman's strange prophesying and caught up in his own struggling emotions. She started to gag and was turning purple. The veins in her neck and forehead stood out like earthworms. Even though it was happening right in front of him, it wasn’t registering in Gerard’s mind. He seemed to have his eyes locked onto the empty space where the crone had just been.
Hyden looked around the tent for a skin of water, or a flask, but he didn’t see anything. He was starting to panic. The woman was choking to death right there in front of them. The telling of the two fortunes had apparently drained the life right out of her.
Wheezing and hacking, she grasped at her throat desperately. She tried to rise to her feet, but ended up falling on Gerard. He pushed her away hard, as if she were on fire, or contagious. She rolled across the flaming candles and the bloody bones on the floor, and then coughed out harshly one last time. Her body extinguished the flames, leaving the tent in darkness. Her breathing filled the sudden silence, ragged, wet, and harsh, but steady nonetheless.
“Leave me,” she croaked.
Her words were wasted. Gerard was already throwing open the tent flap and Hyden was right on his heels. He stopped, and looked back, to make sure that there wasn’t a fire, but he wasn’t lingering. By the light of the lantern poles along the Way, he saw that there was blood, bones, and globs of candle wax stuck to her robes, but she was struggling to rise to her feet. Satisfied, he hurried to catch up to his fleeing brother. He felt guilty leaving her in that condition, but she had told them to go. Who was he to argue with a demon witch?
Trying very hard to put what had just happened out of his mind, Hyden gained Gerard’s side. He saw that his brother was just as troubled by the ordeal, but Gerard’s expression showed more anger than confusion.
“Are you all right?” Hyden asked.
Gerard started to dismiss the question, but changed his mind.
“I felt…No, I saw her…Shaella, betraying me in a cavern.” He unconsciously covered his ring with his left hand.
Hyden noticed the protective gesture, but ignored it. He wanted to say that the crone had said that he may or may not be betrayed, but he held his tongue. He could tell that Gerard was confused and searching for words.
Gerard was searching for words all right, but not in the way Hyden suspected. He was trying to sort through all the strange visions he had seen in his mind’s eye, especially the ones that he wouldn’t dare tell Hyden about. He had envisioned dark and powerful things that he would never speak about to anyone, sinister and malignant things, that he might someday have control over. The idea of it was intoxicating and he liked it.
“I’ll be going with Shaella,” Gerard finally said. “When they leave the festival for the marshes, I’m going with them.”
The conviction with which he spoke left little room for argument, so Hyden didn’t bother. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dissuade Gerard from his adventure anyway. The fortune-teller had spoken of great power and of
