“All of my Saints are showing me nothing.”
“Maybe you should ask them nicely,” Larka taunted, not at all thrown by the words leaving the soothsayer’s mouth.
Ingra was once again silent. My throat began to feel acidic, uncomfortable.
“That is all my Saints are showing me, Miss Larka,” Ingra breathed.
Larka clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun. What a ripoff.” She scrambled to her feet, muttering. “You get blood and fire and sin and I getdarkness?What a load of shit.”
I nodded to the soothsayer as I turned to leave, but the look in her eyes stopped me for a moment. Desperation. Fear. Warning. Her black eyes glowed. “Thank you,” I said quietly as I exited. Ingra was silent.
I squinted as I reentered the sunlight. Larka was still muttering about her lost coin. “I can’t believe we spent our silver pieces onthat.”She combed her fingers through her hair and turned to me, instantly noticing the paleness of my face. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I… I just…that was…” I stammered.
“Like I said,a load of shit.If I’m spending a silver piece, I expect to hearsomething.Fuck!” she exclaimed, kicking at the ground, attracting the attention of a passing family. I was silent, sorting through the words we had just heard. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” I looked at her. “Shit,you do. Petra, this was a soothsayer at a carnival. She isn't real. She’s just here to make money, probably to spend on liquor by the look of her.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly, nodding. “You’re right. She isn’t real.” I tried to calm myself down. “She isn’t real,” I repeated.
Larka searched my face, a puzzled look on hers. “Why are you so shaken up?”
“I’m not,” I said, shaking my head to clear my thoughts again. The smell of the incense clung to my clothes and hair, smothering me. It was better than burning lavender, but still suffocating. “I’m shaken up that we got scammed out of the only spare silver pieces we’ll see all year.” I managed to let loose a laugh which Larka echoed.
“We can’t tell Ma and Da that this is what we spent it on,” Larka said, looping her arm through mine and leading us back into the rows of tents and booths.
“You’re the older sister,” I chided. “You can be the one to explain.”
As we walked away from the tent discussing what we’d tell our parents, I felt the weight of eyes burning into my back. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see Ingra standing outside of her tent, watching us walk away, a hand clutching her Saints’ beads to her heart.