effie yaxley (euphemia) wrote in cultureic, @ 2016-04-15 17:50:00 |
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“It’s still a pity you’re leaving me,” Morven said, the words delivered as enigmatically as she said everything else, even her tea order. Morven liked her mystery, Effie had learned very early on. Though recently Effie learned that she wore that mystery like an armor against the hard truths of the world. It was only when she thought of Morven that Effie came close to feeling a pang over what she’d done to Glenna. Effie liked Morven, liked that their souls were fairly similar, liked that she’d been picked over Gavin and Glenna. But Grania was secretly, but not-so-secretly furious with Effie. Grania had only wanted Effie as a sister when it meant she was marrying Gavin, not at the expense of a brother and her sister. For the most part, Effie hadn’t minded Grania’s anger. In fact, she’d revelled in it at first. The sheen was wearing off, though, and Effie was getting tired of the daily reminder of Gavin’s absence in her life. “It is,” Effie agreed, handing over her empty teacup to Morven for a reading. “But my replacements will do fine.” As she stared down into Effie’s teacup, Morven made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat. A lengthy silence stretched out between them and Effie reached for her empty ring finger, twisting her fingertips around it just below the last knuckle. That was her new nervous habit. Finally: “A raven.” Effie raised her eyebrows at Morven, but Morven remained imperious and silent, still for a long moment as if somehow looking for a clue in Effie’s face. Then, she looked down again and turned the cup ever so slightly. “And a door, but I don’t need to be psychic to know what that means.” She sounded impatient, like the door was almost an insult to her abilities. After a hard swallow, Effie asked, “A raven?” She knew what a raven meant. “You were a Ravenclaw,” Morven said airily. She slid the cup across the table to Effie, turning it so she could see the raven for herself. “But that isn’t the sense I’m getting from this little one.” She paused for dramatic effect probably and Effie managed not to roll her eyes. “Especially with that knife there keeping the door open.” There was another pause, but Effie was too busy staring down into the cup this time to feel annoyed. If she didn’t focus on the knife, the empty space around it looked like an open door, like Morven had said. It meant opportunity. But the knife was still there and she knew what it meant, too. And even though Morven knew Effie knew what it all meant, she said it anyway, sounding far away as she said, “Death.” Effie’s answering laugh was short, derisive and forced. “It could just mean bad news. And I won’t take it well.” She flapped a hand against the table, a half-heartedly dismissive gesture. “No one will be surprised.” Morven stared silently at Effie for another lengthy moment and Effie hated every second of it. But that was something else one didn’t need to be a psychic to read the meaning behind. She was being told not to contradict the Seer. “I’ve an affinity with the Great Beyond, my dear girl. I recognize my friend Death when I see Him.” “Yes, I know,” Effie said woodenly. “The door is still a good omen,” Morven said, her voice dripping with sympathy. But Effie could see that Morven was pleased with the bad omens. “I doubt you’re the one doing the dying.” She reached out to pat Effie’s hand, taking a sip of her own tea so Effie knew she wasn’t being that sincere. It was just as well because Effie wasn’t comforted. She was too shaken. She reached for her mobile, pressing the button at the top to check the time. There was still plenty of time left, but she felt exposed sitting there getting bad news. “We should go back to the offices. I’ve still a few things left to pack before I go.” “Of course,” Morven agreed, her sympathetic smile going a little sharp. “Let me finish my tea and then we’ll go.” She took a slow sip from her teacup and Effie bit back a sigh, reaching for her water glass instead. |