"Futures? Plural?"
"Of course. That's the problem with most theories of prognostication. They presume a single future. You will marry a handsome, rich man and have two children. Is life so predetermined from birth to death, like a car on a fixed track, no room for detours, no allowance for free will? There are futures, Olivia. Possible outcomes based on choices. My gift is not the ability to predict you will marry a handsome, rich man, but to say, if you marry this particular handsome, rich man you will live a comfortable but constrained life. If you do not, your life will be fuller, but you will look back with regret. The choice, then, is yours."
"More life coach than fortune-teller."
"Yes, and I will pretend I didn't notice the sarcasm in your tone." She took a deck of well-worn tarot cards and fanned them before me.
"Choose."
I slid one out, still upside down.
"Now turn it over."
I did. It was a gorgeously rendered Victorian-era card showing a circus clown balancing on a ball, surrounded by dogs with tiny hats.
"The fool," I murmured. "I'm afraid to ask what that means."
"That's not how this works. I don't interpret the card. You do. When you first saw it, your reaction was dismay."
"I didn't mean--"
"You're afraid of being played for a fool. Take another."
I shook my head.
"Too revealing?" she said. "You're uncomfortable sharing emotional reactions."
"No, I just--"
"You are." She scooped up the cards. "Now take another."
I did.
A half hour later, Rose said, "I believe our time is almost up." She pulled a cell phone from her pocket and checked it. "Yes, my next appointment will be here soon."
"So where's my reading? Oh, wait. I have to pay for that, right?"
"I already did the reading. I read you. Now you need to ask me a question."
"I don't have any."
She met my gaze. "Really? I doubt that, under the circumstances."
"If you expect me to ask whether Pamela and Todd Larsen are really serial killers, I'm not going to."
"Good, because I have no idea. Even if I did, my answer would mean nothing to you. First, you don't believe I have the sight anyway. Second, you would presume, whatever I say, that I have an ulterior motive. In this you need to find your own answer. I can simply help you with the smaller questions. When you have one, come back." She stood. "My first answer will be at no cost. After that the price will escalate as I prove my worth. In the meantime, let me offer some free advice. You need protection."
I thought of Gabriel in the park, rubbing the griffin's head. "Against plague?" I hooked my thumb at the Cottingley photo. "Or fairies?"
That had her cracking a smile. "You never know when a plague may strike, Olivia. They say it'll be any day now. And plagues come in many forms. As do fairies. I could offer you an amulet or crystal or other protective talisman. But you'd only stick it in a drawer. For now, I'll focus on the more prosaic dangers and strongly suggest you buy a gun."
"A gun?"
"Yes, a gun. Now--"
The doorbell buzzed.
"Well, it seems my next appointment is early. Would you mind letting him in when you go?"