5
He was known as Lucas Frost. Sometimes humans who dealt with him called him the Dictator because he was in charge of Destiny Park, and no one was allowed to challenge his decisions.
Among his own, he was known as a Sorcerer King.
He could manipulate the strange and uncanny, crush a person’s fate, twist destiny, or even turn a person’s world into a safe place or a nightmare.
Then again, so could all the Arcana to one degree or another.
Lucas watched the ferry leave the dock and head for the middle of the Fate River.
The ferry wouldn’t touch the human world, not now that the sun had set.
No, the Ferryman was making this special journey because of a passenger who thought he was above the rules that governed Wyrd—a journey that would teach the human the price of trying to cheat the Ferryman.
The Ferryman’s business was not his. The visitors who came for a little adventure, a little fun, had gone home or gone back to the hotel for dinner and whatever humans did for entertainment. Now it was just the Arcana in Destiny Park and the pavilion.
Lucas walked into the room where the Ladies Three ruled.
After sunset, the most obvious physical change that indicated he was other than human were the antlers.
They were small things, almost delicate when compared to a stag, but his were simply a sign of being from a different race, of being a part of the strange and uncanny in this world.
His wife, Justine, the Keeper of the Scales, looked at him.
“Well?” he asked. “What can you tell me about Beth Fahey?”
Justine looked at Zerah, her younger sister and Keeper of the Cards, then at Lysandra, her older sister and Keeper of the Fates, receiving a nod from each of them.
“As it has been since the Old Times, when our races first crossed paths, some members of the Arcana mingle with humans, live among humans, even mate with humans,” Zerah said. “Sometimes offspring come from a mating.”
“Arcana who live among humans tend to disappear,” Lucas said.
Justine nodded. “Disappear, yes, but they are not forgotten because they bring a bit of strange to the human world, and if they stay in a place long enough, they create an anchor for the uncanny—a mostly benign connection.”
Lucas studied the three sisters. “Your conclusion about Beth Fahey?”
Lysandra held up her pad of paper and turned it around for him to see the drawing.
Beth Fahey dressed as she had been that afternoon, looking into the still water of the ornamental lake. Looking at the delicate antlers revealed in her reflection.
This confirmed what he’d suspected when she had walked through the moon gate before entering the pavilion. “She’s one of us.”
“Yes,” Justine replied. “Her heritage has been diluted by human blood and by living in the human world, but she is one of us.”