The Shadows by Megan Chance Read Free Book Online

wives!’”
    “What’s a Circassian woman?” Finn asked.
    “Women from a harem,” Cannel said. “They belonged to Turkish sultans.”
    Whatever that meant. Finn grunted. “What else does it say?”
    “‘Antonia and her amazing, three-legged dog! The Wild Man of Borneo! And introducing Cannel the Fortune-teller!’”
    “The fortune-teller,” Finn said, jabbing his finger into Cannel’s chest. “Why would it say that if you weren’t?”
    “It’s all a show!” Cannel cried. “It’s a sideshow, for pity’s sake! The Circassian women are just girls with curled hair!”
    Finn gestured to Keenan, a tall man with a chiseled face and thick brown hair tied in a queue that flopped between his shoulder blades.
    “He read your hand, didn’t he? What did he say to you?” Finn asked.
    “That I’d cared for birds. That I had strength enough to kill a formidable enemy. Something to do with the sea, he said.”
    Diarmid caught his breath. In Ireland, long ago, Keenan had been charged with the task of bringing two of every kind of bird as a hostage price to win Finn’s freedom. And it had been Keenan who killed Lir, the god of the sea, Manannan’s father, during the Great War between the gods.
    Finn’s full lips curled. He turned back to Cannel. “I think you have more power than you’re admitting,
cainte
. Now why don’t you tell us the truth? We’re in need of a Seer, as it happens. If you do the task well, we’ll let you live.”
    Cannel swallowed hard. “I can’t. I don’t think I’ve the skill you need.”
    Finn asked Goll, “Did you bring his divining tools?”
    Goll reached into his pocket and took out a deck of very worn, tattered-edged cards, handing them to Finn, who looked ill at ease as he touched them. He set them on thetable without rifling through them—one did not meddle with another’s magic.
    “Tell us what you know,” Finn ordered Cannel.
    Cannel glanced around the room, and Diarmid saw the resignation on his face. “I need a chair.”
    Finn made a motion, and Ossian brought over a barrel, setting it down with a thud. Cannel flipped up the skirt of his coat before he sat and picked up the cards. His hands were clumsy and shaking. “I need a question first,” Cannel said hoarsely. “Tell me what you want to know.”
    “Where is the
veleda
?” Finn said.
    Cannel frowned. “What’s a
veleda
?”
    “A Druid priestess.”
    Cannel swallowed again. “You won’t find that in New York City, I’m afraid.”
    But he shuffled the cards, separating them into piles, murmuring the question. They all watched. It was never quiet in their flat; the sounds of outside—horses and wagons and children playing, couples screaming drunken obscenities at each other, gang fights—echoed through the thin walls and floors, but Diarmid felt the silence of his fellows like a force, and he knew the Seer felt it too.
    Cannel fumbled with the cards, laying them out in a facedown formation. Diarmid had seen oracles divine with ogham sticks and the entrails of animals, the flight patterns of birds, or the movements of the heavens, but this was new. He watched curiously, feeling the power in the little man at thetable grow with every passing moment. Whatever Cannel’s protests, there
was
some magic in him.
    Finally, the cards were all laid out. Cannel turned them over one by one, studying them. No one said anything. They knew to be patient with Seers—interruption could be fatal.
    “She’s here,” Cannel said. “You were right. This—What did you call her?”
    “
Veleda
,” Finn provided.
    “Yes. This
veleda
is in the city. I can’t tell for certain where. Somewhere near.” Cannel bent closer. “There are others around her. A society or . . . a club.”
    “What kind of club?” Finn asked.
    “I don’t know. I can’t tell.” Cannel lifted another card, studied it, frowned. He looked up, scanning the room, his gaze stopping on Diarmid. Uncomfortably, Diarmid shifted against the