I sit, tapping my fingers restlessly on the table as Asra finishes packing his belongings. The drapes in the windows are closed against any customers for the rest of the night, and candles glow warm amber all over the shop. I don't need to see outside to know that the moonless night is black and lonely outside. A good day to start a journey, Asra had said.

He turns to me suddenly.

"Here, take this. For you to play around with while I'm gone."

I hold my hand out. A gift? This can't be good.

"My tarot deck."

"You think I want your creepy deck?" I ask, half joking, even as I take the deck from his hands. The cards make my hair stand on end the moment I touch them. They have too much of his magic to make me feel comfortable.

"Scared of them still?" he teases. "You're really something. I'll hide the cards, if you wish. But first...humor me. Read my fortune. Just for fun." He catches the skeptical turn of my mouth. "This isn't a test, I promise."

So, it's a test, then.

Despite my reservations, he pulls back the curtain which leads to the backroom.

"After you," he says. I brush past him and take a seat at the table. Asra lets the curtain fall behind him and sits across from me.

"It's been a while since we've practiced."

"Because I've already perfected it?"

He looks surprised at my boldness, but recovers quickly. "Have you now? You really are gifted. I shouldn't have expected any less." He shakes his head, as though shaking off an errant thought. "Then let's not wait any longer."

At that moment, something smooth and cool brushes along my ankle. Faust winds her way up to Asra's shoulder. She's pleased to see me, I think.

"If we're all here," Asra says, scratching Faust's chin, "let's begin." If snakes could purr…

I shuffle the deck. His gaze follows the cards as they slip through my fingers. He picks three, and I flip one over.

The High Priestess.

"And what is she telling you?"

The cards speak to me, but not in any human tongue. When my mind is clear, the answer comes to me.

"You've forsaken her. You've pushed her away, and buried her voice. She calls out to you, but you won't listen. Asra, if you don't listen to her…"

My warning is silenced by a sharp knocking on the front door. A customer, this late?

"Did you forget to put out the lantern again?" I'm sure I haven't, but he doesn't wait for my answer. He stands and swings his bag over his shoulder. "Just as well. I can't stay any longer."

I follow him as he walks out from the backroom, Faust still curled around his shoulder. "Take care of yourself. Ah, I almost forgot. You wanted the cards hidden, didn't you? Because they're so creepy?" A brief light sears - Asra's magic. "There, it's done. Good luck finding them." There's something else he wants to say, but he holds back. Instead he says, "Until we meet again."

With a flourish he dons his hat and slips out the back door.

The knocking sounds again.

The Countess.

I accept her invitation to meet her tomorrow, and I wonder about my reputation and whether she's mistaken me for Asra. Powerful, gifted… I have talent and skill, but am I really what she and Asra believe me to be?

When I open the door for the Countess to leave, a cold wind sweeps through the opening and the flames of the candles sitting on the counter sputter out. Only a few candles lit on the shelf are left, casting a dim glow. I close the door behind the Countess as she slips into the night, lost in my own thoughts. Perhaps I should do a reading for myself. Yes, that's what I'll do.

I've just flipped the first of three locks when I hear a voice from behind me.

"Strange hours for a shop to keep."

I freeze, blood running cold with fear. Who said that? I turn slowly and take a few tentative steps away from the door, further into the shop, searching each corner of the dark corners, the shadows morphing as the flames above my head dance. My crow familiar, Mephisto, could help me see more clearly, but he's deep in the forest - I sent him there to check on everything this morning. I have to rely on my own senses, but it's impossible to focus around my fear.

I don't see anything, but I hear a whisper of fabric.

"Behind you," the voice teases. I spin and see a tall form looming against the door, where I had stood moments ago. Hot adrenaline floods my frozen veins and sets my heart pounding.

"Sources say this is the witch's lair," the voice says, low and threatening. He unfolds his arms and takes a step towards me. "So who might you be?"

Instinct takes over. As he approaches me, I swing for his head. He dodges easily.

"Hah! You've got guts. En garde, then! Let's see what else you've got."

I call on my water magic to summon ice in my hand and launch it at his body. As though expecting it, he side-steps and the attack explodes in frost against the wall.

Looking at the ice crystals melt away, the man almost sounds impressed as he says, "Has Asra been teaching you his tricks? Unfortunately for you, I've seen them all bef-"

At that moment, the empty bottle I'd grabbed and lobbed makes contact with his head. His mask falls to the floor with a clatter. He stumbles back from the impact and then braces himself on the counter, leaning for a moment into a pool of weak candle light.

My heart skips a beat as I take in the bloody cut on his forehead - thanks to the bottle I threw at him - the eye patch, his jawline, his wild auburn hair, and his eyes, an intense grey like a storm at sea. His mouth lifts into a wry grin.

"You do have guts." Now he really does sound impressed.

"Doctor Julian Devorak?" I ask in disbelief.

I recognize the mask now, remember seeing his tall form stooping over patients in the street, lingering over those who had moments left before turning and going to the next one. Then, after a time, I never saw him at all. The victims of the Red Plague never survived, and there was always someone else dying. I was playing nurse during that time. I didn't have any - still don't have any - real medical skill, but I could ease some pain and create illusions that helped people pass into death more quietly, more peacefully. And I could flush the plague out of my system when it got into me but never figured out how to do it to anyone else without killing either of us.

"No one's called me that in years," he answers by way of acknowledgement. He's almost jovial, basking in the pride of recognition. Then his gaze hardens. "Quickly now. Where is the witch?"

"I'll never talk!" I raise my hands again, ready to fight. Not like I know where Asra is, anyway. I hope desperately that there are more empty bottles around.

"I thought you might say that." Devorak wipes the blood from his brow, mood darkening even further. Instead of coming after me, he seems...resigned. "No sense in wasting the visit. You're a fortune teller, aren't you?"

I pause, confused by his shift in tactic, and drop my hands. "Um, yes."

"Tell my fortune, and I'll leave you in peace."

I stare him down in disbelief. He broke into the shop, dead set on trying to find Asra and gave up so quickly? Then again, now that my pulse has stopped racing and I can get a read on his aura, I don't actually get the feeling that he's dangerous at all, even if he tried to act like he was. I mean, he didn't even try to attack me - I'm the one who threw the bottle at him.

With no reason to not, and to satiate my own curiosity about this strange man, I lead Doctor Devorak to the backroom and reach out to open the curtain. He strides ahead as we approach and he holds the curtain back for me. As I pass him, he gives me a mischievous grin and a wink that set my ears on fire. He doesn't follow me immediately, and I feel his eyes track slowly down my body, lingering on my ass.

I fight to control the heat in my cheeks and take a seat, focusing on shuffling the tarot cards. He slips into the seat across from me, where the Countess sat minutes before. He rests his lanky arms casually on the chair back.

"I used to love places like this, you know." His cool eye tracks my hands as they shuffle the cards.

I suppress a small smile. Small talk? Really? Devorak has an uncanny ability to unease me, but I'm not entirely uncomfortable. Just… on my toes. As a magician and fortune teller, it's hard sometimes to be surprised by anything, but here he is, keeping me guessing in every moment.

"Used to?" I ask. I can feel the cards rearranging themselves in my hands as I shuffle.

"I don't like magic."

"You probably don't know much about it, then."

I give up on shuffling - the deck has decided already what it has to say to him. I meet his eyes and realize he's staring at me.

"Go on. No need to be shy."

I deal out the stacks and gesture for him to choose. He picks three cards and I don't hesitate before choosing one to flip over. My hand is drawn to it by the card itself, it seems.

"...Death." My blood pounds in my ears, drowning out the words the card tries to whisper to me. No need, in any case.

"Death?" Devorak looks stunned for a moment, then incredulous. "Death?" He barks out a laugh once, cold as ice, completely humorless. "You've got to be joking." I jump as he strikes the tables with his palms, rising to his feet. "Death cast her gaze on this wretch and turned away. She has no interest in an abomination like me."

His long strides carry him quickly out of the backroom and I'm close on his heels. Of course I know what he was accused of, that he's a wanted man, but I have no idea what he's talking about.

With a sudden flourish he whirls around and I slam into his chest. He catches my wrist and rights me before I stumble backwards, pulling me towards him. At that moment I become keenly aware of just how tall he is.

"You've been hospitable, so I'll let you in on a little secret." He tugs me closer and leans over to whisper into my ear. "Asra will be back for you. He's taught you his tricks - you may even say that he cares for you. But when he returns...seek me out. For your own sake." He pulls back and grins devilishly again, apparently delighted by how flustered I must look.

He releases me and I take a shaky step back. Devorak leans down to pick up his mask from where it fell when I hit him with the bottle. He stares into the glassy red eyes. "That creature is far more dangerous than you know," he says, then slips the mask on again, pushing it up on his forehead. "Well then. The hour is late, and I'm out of time."

He fixes me with a long look, and so many questions spring to my mind but I don't know which one to ask first. The moment passes and he pulls the mask down over his face. "Don't let him fool, you, shopkeep," he warns. Then with two long strides he reaches the door and disappears into the darkness.

I lock all three locks on the door this time with shaking hands.

Anyone else, I note, would be afraid of Julian Devorak and would alert the guards immediately.

But I'm not afraid, and I don't call the guards. He may be a hunted man in this city, and he may put on a show of acting like a lawless killer, but even during our brief interaction I could tell it was an act. As I settle into bed and pulled my blanket over me, I think about the life I've lived up until now, safe and comfortable and protected. The Countess has asked me to investigate, and I'm ready to do more than just uncover the truth behind Lucio's death - I'm ready to dive headfirst into adventure. Meeting Julian Devorak ignited a long dormant desire to explore and experience everything that life has to offer, to follow each thread of curiosity and uncover secrets. Fate has pushed me towards the doomed doctor.

A good day to begin a journey, indeed.

When I finally fall asleep, I dream of Asra, a strange desert road, and Julian's breath in my ear.