The Red Ripper by Kerry Newcomb Read Free Book Online Page B

cross.
    â€œI am she who walks in the shadows between what is and what will be.” She spun on her heels and passed the deck beneath the very noses of those who had come to be amused. “Would you know the very hour of your death? Draw a card and I will number your days. What of love or betrayal? Ask, place your hand upon the cards, and all will be opened unto you. Seek and you shall find.”
    The colorful array of gentlemen and their ladies shrank back from Esperanza’s outstretched hand. No one wished to play. Suddenly the afternoon’s diversion had lost its appeal, the basking sun its warmth. The chill of the grave clung to the shadows of the madrona trees. Insects and birds avoided the side garden altogether. The woman focused on Juan Diego. She glided toward him over the stone-paved path.
    â€œAnd you, sir, your heart’s desire is an open book.” Esperanza paused for effect, a trick of her mother’s, then flipped a card or two upon the table. One image was that of a drake rising from a wellspring; the next, against a backdrop of a star-filled night, that of two nudes draped in garlands emptying a cornucopia upon plowed earth. A third card depicted a majestic stag standing upon a ridge and, below the beast, scattered bones.
    â€œWhat man does not hunger for wealth and power, for all life’s riches, and glory, too?” Esperanza continued.
“Señor Guadiz, your ambition soars. Abundance awaits you. A triumph where others fail.”
    â€œWell spoken, señora, but I could have—”
    â€œBut every victory has its price,” the woman continued, cutting him off. “All things are possible. Draw the final card and see for yourself. There is always a card between you and your desires. Fate is the prince of tricksters. Tempt him, if you dare. Draw the last card and see for yourself what must be overcome. Beware, though. Once it is drawn, the card can never be returned.” Esperanza blew gently on the deck. The governor’s side garden fell silent. All eyes were on Juan Diego. The governor’s nephew licked his lips, ran a tongue around his dry mouth, and tried to swallow. It might be a good thing to know what to expect. And yet the woman intimated that by drawing the card Juan Diego could set in motion a disastrous chain of events he might come to regret.
    Esperanza’s eyes were mere slits. Her hand never wavered. The deck was an extension, almost a part of her, but with a life of its own, a serpent waiting to strike the man foolish enough to risk disaster. Knowledge carried a high price.
    He reached out, hesitated, stared at the deck, then withdrew his hand. Leave well enough alone. The cards on the table were enough for him. Wealth and power and glory were his for the taking. And nothing was going to stand in his way. He glanced around at his friends and then, smiling broadly, applauded.
    â€œBravo, señora, a most enjoyable performance. But the future is in my hands, not yours. And right now”—he held up his long-stemmed glass—“it needs more wine.”
    A chorus of relieved laughter filtered through the crowd. Juan Diego motioned for his friends to follow him back into the main garden. Turning, the captain of
lancers almost blundered into the norte americano blocking his path.
    Wallace stared at his brother’s killer, waiting for some glimmer of recognition to alter the captain’s expression. Guadiz hesitated for a brief second, then brushed past the redheaded stranger without so much as a “by your leave.”
    â€œSeñor Guadiz,” Wallace blurted out. The officer swung about. William’s hand, on reflex, dropped to his belt, where a knife or pistol might have been; then, altering its course, he reached out and snatched the top card from Esperanza’s grasp. He showed her the image, then held it face out to the officer. “You forgot your card.”
    Juan Diego was taken aback by the impertinent