Sanctuary - Lynn Abbey [163]
The S’danzo answered with a laugh. “I told him nothing he did not already know. I told him what he wanted to hear.”
“Would you …? Can you tell me if I can free Leorin from the Hand?”
Elemi gave the cards to Cauvin. “Shuffle them.”
Poor men gamed with dice. Only sparkers played with painted cards. Cauvin had seen card-shuffling sparkers in the Unicorn shadows, but when he tried to imitate them, the parchment rectangles flew from his fingers. Grimly, he collected them from the carpeted floor and neatened them against the table.
Elemi placed her hands over his. “Never mind,” she whispered. “I’ll help you. It’s not your fault.”
Somehow, that sounded like a curse.
The S’danzo’s fingers were no bigger than Bec’s and cool despite the room’s heat. She caressed Cauvin’s hand as a lover might and, as he held his breath, half the deck dropped to the table. She took the remaining cards from his hand and set them aside before turning the topmost card of the dropped stack faceup.
The painting was simple: a muscular forearm brandishing a flaming spear. “Lance of Flames, reversed,” Elemi said and, from Cauvin’s view, the card was indeed upside down.
“Is that bad?” he asked, unable to restrain himself.
Elemi scowled. She retrieved the bottom card from among those that hadn’t dropped—the card that had rested atop the Lance of Flames—and said, “That which is farthest away, denied, ignored, or forgotten,” as she placed it faceup upon the burning spear. From Cauvin’s view, the blond woman and dark-haired man were standing right-side up.
“No,” he protested. “Pick another card. That’s Leorin and me. You weren’t listening. There’s nothing denied or forgotten about Leorin and me. When the time’s right, we’re jumping the broom—”
“When the time’s right,” Elemi repeated, a hint of mockery in her voice. “I See a hard choice before you, hard because no matter how righteous your choice, the outcome will not change.” She raised her head. There was surprise and sadness in her eyes. “You can choose where you will bear your scars, Cauvin, the rest is fate. You think you have no innocence left to lose—that you had none—” The S’danzo folded both of her hands over his and squeezed them tight. “It’s too late, Cauvin. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
Cauvin pulled free. “No, I won’t accept it. We’ll leave Sanctuary … tonight.” He paced the length of the room. “The two of us—we’ll find a place where no one’s ever heard of Molin Torchholder, or Sanctuary, or the froggin’ damned Bloody Mother of Chaos!”
“You can try.” Elemi traced the flaming lance with a forefinger. “You could go alone. That dream was true. The path from Sanctuary is open. No shame will follow you, if you take it … alone.”
“No froggin’ shame in giving up—froggin’ sure, that’s what my dream told me. Leave froggin’ Sanctuary behind, and no one will blame me. But what about Leorin? Leave her behind, too? You tell me she’s caught in the Hand’s web. How can there be no shame, if I leave the woman I love behind. I’d sooner cut off my arm.”
“Then cut it off,” Elemi agreed coldly. “You can choose your scars.”
In two strides Cauvin returned to the table. He loomed over Elemi. “What about Leorin? What do you see for her? Find me a path that gets us both safely out of this gods-forsaken city!”
Elemi swept up all the cards. “You will not thank me for this,” she warned, and began tossing them onto the table. “Imagine yourself alone in the midst of a vast, empty field. There are no paths; each step you take is a new choice. Now imagine another field, equally vast, but there is one difference: a single path, clearly marked. You could choose not to follow it, but do you have that strength, suvesh? Without True Sight’s vision, the future is like the first field.” The S’danzo squared the cards and set them aside. She’d laid out less than half the number she’d laid out before. “Last chance, suvesh, do you want to See the path?”
“Yes,” Cauvin replied without hesitation.
“Your beloved has made her choices—the Archway stands behind her.” Elemi tapped the card portraying