The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

want me to read tea leaves?” Aisling tried to keep her jaw from dropping. “That’s peddler magic. It’s nothing interesting.”

“And yet, we would like to be entertained.”

She couldn’t refuse the woman who also threatened their safety. Ducking her head, she stepped up to the table and reached for the first cup that called her name.

Fine porcelain burned her fingertips. It was lovely, although the very edge was chipped. She turned it round and round in her hand until she felt the lingering spark where the person’s hands had held the cup.

“Whose is this?” she asked.

“Mine.” The voice was lovely, quiet like a song, and yet powerful like the heralding of a storm. Aisling looked up quickly to find herself lost in the gaze of a strange woman. Her skin was blue as the morning sky and her head was covered with dark snakes. One lifted its head and hissed at her.

“What kind of tea was it?”

“Nothing special,” the snake-haired woman replied.

Aisling nodded and tilted her head while looking at the remaining leaves. There was a trick to it, although she didn’t really need to look at them. The sparkle of magic lingered even where the leaves had shifted.

“I see a bear in your past,” she began, “an untrustworthy person who dogs your steps. I see a bull in the current time, an omen of misfortune and an insult from your enemies. It is a warning you should heed.”

The blue-skinned woman leaned forward. “And my future?”

Aisling’s lip twitched. “An arrow, surrounded by storm clouds.”

“What does that mean?”

Anger vibrated through Aisling’s hand, and the cup whined as she closed her fist around it. She met the duchess’s smug gaze. “It’s a bad omen, and it points directly to you.”

The duchess at least attempted to look surprised. She pressed a hand against her chest and feigned shock. “Whatever could that mean? Surely you pointed the cup wrong, my little witch. The arrow couldn’t point at me.”

“It points directly at you, Duchess. And I do not appreciate being used for sport.”

“Well then, I suppose my entertainment is finished.”

The duchess snapped her fingers, and the blue-skinned woman tried to run. She spun on her heel, hitting the chest of a one-armed guard who appeared behind her. Aisling didn’t even hear a squeak as the large man wrapped his arm around her head and twisted violently. The thud of a body hitting the ground was hidden by the symphony of a hundred voices rising in laughter.

She turned towards the Duchess, forcing herself to remain unphased. “Was that necessary?”

“I don’t like liars.” The duchess poured another cup of tea. “Shall I read your leaves?”

“I thought you said witches had magic the Fae don’t?”

“They do. But reading tea leaves is really quite easy, don’t you think?”

Aisling took the offered cup with a small shake of her head. “What are the chances you’ve poisoned this?”

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do so in the middle of my ballroom.”

Aisling looked at the guard dragging away the blue woman’s body. “Is that so?”

“Killing someone in such a simple way is an insult. You’re a worthier conquest.” The duchess raised her own teacup and clinked the chipped edge against Aisling’s.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Aisling lifted the cup to her lips and arched a brow.

The tea tasted faintly of fruit, but mostly of rot. Overwhelmingly sweet, it burned the roof of her mouth and sent tendrils of ache through her teeth. They anchored in her skull like the thorns of the vine wrapped around her neck.

She didn’t detect any poison, and for that she was grateful. Aisling hated the bitterness of nightshade on her tongue.

When the duchess didn’t seem interested in speaking, Aisling followed the other woman’s gaze.

Bran made his way through the crowd, quietly speaking with all who would lend him an ear. He paused near a man made entirely of bark and grinned. Aisling felt it deep in her gut.

What kind of man could find joy in a place like this? The tree-like man lifted a gnarled hand and placed it on Bran’s shoulder, and he didn’t even flinch. These were more his people than any other creature they had seen thus far. He was completely at home with the strange, macabre, and even grotesque.

Perhaps that was why she felt him deep inside her soul. He saw the beauty in broken things, but never tried to put them back together. Broken wasn’t useless.

The duchess chuckled. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Aisling sipped at her tea.

“You know who I’m talking about, child. It’s perfectly acceptable to admire things like him, but only from afar.”

“And why is that?”

“Men like him weren’t made to be touched by women with scars on their hands. He’s one of the black-eyed beauties, creatures hiding within pools of decay. You’ve seen the celestial bodies hidden in the depths of his gaze. A woman is easily lost while stargazing.”

Aisling lost her breath. Her chest caught in a heave, holding the air as if the pain in her ribs might overpower the pain in her heart.

Pity radiated from the faerie next to her who reached out and placed a hand atop hers. “Tell me more about yourself, little witch. We shall watch this dark man as he tries to ply my subjects for a way to kill me. As payment for not killing him now, I shall hear more of your story.”

Aisling pulled her hand away and pressed the teacup to her lips. “All my life I have been afraid of fire.”

“A strange thing to be sure. Witch magic is elemental at best.”

“I used to wake up drenched in sweat, thinking that flames were licking at my legs in the middle of the night. I saw people in the shadows holding tinder and flint with wicked grins on their faces. Every night, I walked through the forest and wondered when someone was going to finally find me.

“They tell little girls to be wary of the woods. They say it is filled with creatures dark, powerful,