Doors opened, lights came on, and people in robes and frilly nightcaps came out of bedrooms to peer over the stairwell. And then to mutter things under their breaths at the sight of us and go back to bed, some slamming their doors behind them. I lay there, panting and confused, while the room spun around me. And while the ladylike acolyte beside me laughed and laughed and laughed.

“That was wonderful,” she finally gasped out. “Wonderful! Do you do these kinds of things all the time?”

“Feels that way,” I said, dragging myself up, and mentally adding another bruise to my collection.

And then I went back to bed.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

I finally went for that talk with Gertie the next morning. It was long after dawn by the time I woke up, but it looked almost as dark as night, with rain drenched skies and gusts of what would have been snow if it was slightly colder. My daily gown had yet to arrive, so I went downstairs in my robe, hoping for breakfast.

What I found instead was Gertie in her sitting room, wearing a cherry-colored bathrobe of bright, Chinese silk and a matching pair of booties. Even when lounging around, she liked to make a statement. And she liked to be comfortable, which was why the booties were fur-lined, the chair was overstuffed, and the fire in the red brick fireplace was going gangbusters.

However, she wasn’t in front of the flames as usual, but over at a small card table by the window. Rain was shushing against the panes, although it was less a reminder of the cold, inhospitable streets outside and more of a soothing background noise. Strangely enough, it added to the cozy.

Gertie didn’t look up at my approach, but I pulled out a chair and joined her anyway. She was reading Tarot, something I’d never seen her do. It wasn’t going well, judging by the frown on her forehead as she studied the cards. And by the sudden swipe of her arm as she knocked them to the floor.

“Bad reading?” I asked, a little taken aback. Gertie, for all her oddities, was fairly controlled. I’d seen her smack down a misbehaving Were or tell off a mage with poorer than average manners and never lose her cool.

But it looked like the reading had offended her.

“Disappointing,” she said tersely, and settled back in her chair to stare out the window.

I knelt to pick up the cards, then crawled under the table for one that had almost gotten away. It was the Wheel of Fortune, which I was used to seeing as a pretty golden wheel set against clear blue skies, with stylized depictions of the four elements—earth, air, fire and water—in the corners. Meanwhile, three figures rode on the wheel: a sphinx, a snake and a dog-headed human.