Page 8 of A Fate in Flames

Eli stood beneath an archway, his arms folded across his chest.His smile was the kind that could lull someone into a sense of comfort.Yesterday, that same one had lured me right into his arms.

The sunlight through the canopies dappled patterns across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the soft curve of his mouth.

“Hey,” he said smoothly, tilting his head to the side.“Do you think I could see you later?You know… finish where we left off?”

I cleared my throat as I scrambled for an excuse.

“Um, I’m going to bereallybusy…” I swallowed hard, my eyes shifting to a woman walking side by side with her daughter.“Helping my mother.She bought so many things, and we need to sort through them all.”

An obnoxious snort sounded beside me.“No, you don’t.”

I turned to Theo, my eyes wide with silent fury.My hand shot out, aiming for his ribs, but he anticipated the move and sidestepped just out of reach.

Eli, to his credit, didn’t call me out on the blatant lie.He simply stood there, watching me with that quiet, patient smile.My stomach twisted with guilt.

He was sweet.Handsome too.By all accounts, I should’ve wanted him.

But I didn’t.

Not in the way he had hoped.Not in the way that would make meeting his gaze less painful.

And he knew it.

His smile faltered, then he stepped aside, sweeping his arm in a graceful arc to give us room to pass.

“I’ll see you around,” he called out, his voice carrying through the din of the marketplace.

I didn’t respond.

My shoulders hunched as I manoeuvred around a cart filled with colourful pottery, the glazed surfaces gleaming.

The moment we were out of sight, I whirled on Theo and smacked him on the arm.He rubbed the spot as if I’d actually injured him.

“What part of ‘don’t say anything’ did you not understand?”I demanded, jabbing my finger into his chest for emphasis.

“I felt bad for him,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.“He’s really nice.”

I bit my lip, my teeth pressing hard enough to sting.

“Exactly.He’stoonice.I’d destroy him like a storm hitting a village.”

“You’re notthatbad,” he bumped his shoulder against mine.“Maybe a light breeze at worst.”

I snorted.“You know what I mean.He wants something I can’t give him.It would be cruel to pretend otherwise.”

As we made our way through the thinning crowd, the market began to shift.There was less laughter, fewer children running between stalls.The scents had deepened into something heavier, richer.Incense curling from clay burners.The tang of dried herbs strung up in bundles.

The atmosphere changed too.Voices lowered to whispers, and people moved with more purpose, their eyes darting around as if afraid to linger.

And then I saw her.

An old woman, draped in loose layers of black linen that swirled around her like smoke, sat cross-legged before a small fire.Its embers crackled softly beneath the shifting breeze, sending up sparks that danced in the air.An eye had been marked in the centre of her forehead in deep black ink, stark against her wrinkled skin.Her booth was sparse, little more than a patterned rug faded by time and a low wooden sign scrawled with uneven letters.

HAVE YOUR FORTUNE TOLD BY A SEER

IF YOU DARE.

The words sunk their hooks deep into my mind.The woman’s gnarled hands worked a string of amber beads, her lips moving in silent prayer or incantation.