Chapter 3
This woman… that magic. I have traveled the world and never seen anything as beautiful.
Auraria is no stranger to paranormal activity, but a resurrected knight is difficult even for me to wrap my head around.
“You… died?” I repeat.
“I did.”
“When exactly did you die?” I avoid his gaze, feeling slightly lightheaded amid all of this new information.
“The thirty-first of October.”
Yesterday. But then?—
“In the year 1415.”
I need to sit down. I pivot around this six-hundred-year-old knight and plop into the chair he was previously occupying. It feels so much bigger than when he was sitting in it.
He kneels before me, and I can see it. See him in battle over six centuries ago. See him in this very position when he was knighted before the king—at least I assume that’s what happened. I’m realizing I know very little about fifteenth century knights.
“Penelope—”
“It’s Penny.”
His brow furrows. “Penelope. I can see you are distressed.”
My head tips back and I cover my eyes with my forearm. I can’t keep looking at him like this. It’s too distracting. “Of course I’m distressed,” I murmur. “You’re dead.”
“I am not. At least, not currently. Feel.” He gently brings my free hand to his, sliding our palms together. It’s erotic in a way it shouldn’t be, and he is indeed fully corporeal. “And you just did magic—I should be the least distressing thing you have seen today.”
“Magic is normal! Dead people are not.”
He slowly slides his palm away from mine, and I miss it instantly. “I am in need of your help, Penelope.”
“With what?”
That seems to startle Sanders into silence. “I—with… with dying, I suppose.”
“How am I supposed to help with that?” I finally uncover my eyes, and he’s in the exact same position I left him in. I’m desperate to know what’s under all that armor after seeing his face. So desperate, I almost miss his next words.
“You are a witch, Penelope. Surely you can break this curse.”
I bark out a laugh. “Sanders! You saw how long it took me to change your vocabulary into modern English. I’m a terrible witch—only a drop of magical blood in me, my grandmother says.”
He leans in slightly. “But you are the only witch I know. Alive, that is. And you have more power than any witch I have ever encountered.”
“You encountered witches in—where are you from?”
“Britain. Specifically Wiltshire, England.” He places a hand over his heart. “We had many witches in my time. Though they have been harder to come by as the years have gone on.”
Smacking my hands down on my legs, I give him some good news. “Thankfully, there are quite a few witches in Auraria. I’ll find you someone who is better than me. Let’s go.”
The costumes will have to wait. I need to get some fresh air and figure out what the fuck is going on.
I maneuver around his large body as best as I can, hooking my bag back over my shoulder and beelining toward the door. Sanders catches up with me surprisingly quick for someone so laden in armor.
“You will break my curse, Lady Penelope. Of that I am sure.”
Right… “This way!” I reply, a cold dread creeping up my spine at the thought of disappointing him with my magic. Disappointing myself. Again.
I don’t wait for him to follow, just start marching toward the only place I can think of that will possibly help—Madame Selene’s.
An Auraria establishment, Madame Selene’s is the oldest tarot and palm reader in the state, and probably the nation.
She looks like a strong wind would blow her over, though that’s entirely a facade.
In reality, she’s one tough bitch. And the most powerful witch I’ve ever met.
Selene took me under her wing when my magic began to manifest itself.
I spent so many nights in her jewel-toned shop, I practically lived there through my teenage years.
The familiar scent envelopes me as soon as I push through the door. A chime alerts Selene of the presence of customers, but of course she already knows it’s me.
“Penny, darling,” she drawls from behind the curtain that separates the odds and ends from her reading room. “You’ve brought a friend.”
“Friend seems generous,” I mutter.
“Tosh,” she replies. “And he’s handsome. Bring him to me.”
Sanders stills at my side. “How does she know I am handsome? Did you tell her?”
“Oh my gods, no! She’s a witch, a very powerful one at that, with the power of sight.”
“Except I can’t see either of you right now!” Selene calls. “Bring him back here.”
Lifting the curtain, I hold it open for Sanders to walk through. Clank through. We will need to get him some modern clothes.
Wait. No. There’s no we about this. I’ll get him set up with Selene and get back to my very normal, very no-medieval-knights-following-me-around life.
While Sanders settles himself into one of the chairs, I greet Selene with a kiss on each cheek. “Selene, this is Alisander. He’s having some… dying troubles. I figured maybe you could help. Sanders”—I pivot toward him—“would you like to explain your predicament?”
Selene holds up a hand as I take the seat next to Sanders. “No need.” She pulls out her tarot deck and begins shuffling. “I’ll do a reading,” her ancient voice croaks.
“Uh… that’s very kind, but maybe it can wait until you tell Sanders what to do about the dying thing?”
Instead of replying, she shuts her eyes firmly, continuing to shuffle. Bitch.
“The art of divination is quite ancient. Though you may have seen these cards before, Sir Alisander, they were not used for divination until after you initially passed. Tarot is a way for us to gain insight into the past”—her hand gestures toward Sanders—“present”—and then toward me—“and future.” She opens her eyes and winks.
“I will draw three cards today to see what fate has to say about your own past, present, and future.”
“But—” Selene smacks the deck down onto the table, effectively silencing me.
“The first card I pull will represent the past.” She flips over the top card in the deck.
Death.
I gasp. “Gods, that’s a bad one! Well, I guess it’s good for Sanders since he wants to die.”
Selene casts an admonishing glance at me. “Have I taught you nothing, child? Hush.”
“Sorry, sorry!” I give her a go on hand motion.
She nods in satisfaction. “While the Death card can be a representation of a physical death, it most frequently represents more of a rebirth. Affecting something of large importance in your life.”
“Like his death?” I hiss, folding my arms across my chest. Selene ignores me.
Sanders leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Something stirs inside me at the thought that he’s actually taking this seriously—not always the case with newcomers to Auraria.
Selene continues. “There will come a time when you have to decide.”
“Decide what?” I whisper at the same time Sanders nods in understanding. She continues to ignore me instead of answering my question and flips the next card.
“This represents the present.” I look at the card.
The Empress.
“Hmm.” Selene eyes me. “The Empress represents abundance, beauty, creativity. A very feminine card. Together these cards represent a cycle of growth. Potentially a time to let go of the old.”
I can feel Sanders’ eyes on me, but now I’m glued to the cards and the words Selene is saying. “What’s the last one?” I whisper.
Selene purses her lips—I know better than to rush her. She closes her eyes and places her wrinkled hand over the top of the deck. We wait with bated breath while she plays her patience game with me.
“This last card will represent the future.”
It’s so quiet, I can hear the murmur of conversation as people walk by the outside the shop. After what feels like an eternity, Selene flips the card over.
The World.
“Completion,” Selene breathes.
Damn. That’s an intense draw.
“Very interesting,” she muses. “Together these cards represent the deepest transformation. A closing of one chapter and an opening of another.”
Finally, I look at Sanders. His expression is a mix of awe and understanding. That makes one of us.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
Selene gathers the cards, abruptly pushing to stand. “It’s time for my nap. You’ll figure it out.”
“Selene! Wait, we came to you for help!”
“She has helped.” Sanders’ deep voice startles me. This is the first time he’s spoken since the reading began.
You know what? Fine. I did my part.
“Great,” I huff. “Well then I best get going. I’m glad you got what you needed. Selene—enjoy your nap!”
And then I leave. Because I can’t keep my head on straight with this stupidly beautiful, tall, gruff, frustrating knight next to me.