Read Online Three Emperors (9780062194138) by William Dietrich - Free Book Online

stairs, and rushed up the theater aisle.
    Our shaken Apollo rose, bruised but intact. His chariot lay in three pieces, his helmet amid the ruins.
    Josef looked at me warily. “Madame, you are indeed a sorceress.”
    â€œA priestess. I hope you’re not seriously hurt.”
    He tentatively shook his limbs and then stood tall. He is, after all, a duke. “No more than a knight thrown at a joust. But your tarot . . . Emil, what happened?”
    â€œA handle, sire. The rigging needs replacement.”
    â€œWhich I can scarce afford. Well.” He looked up to the rafters. I looked down and noticed the dark stain where the virgin Evelyn had killed herself. “Ten talers is cheap for good advice.”
    â€œAnd costly when ignored,” Paulina said. She turned to me. “I’m impressed. Will you read my fortune for another ten?”
    I hadn’t asked my question yet. “As you wish. Would you prefer your own chambers?”
    â€œNo, here. Now.” She was excited by my success. I glanced at the stain again and she followed my eye. This couple liked to dare fate.
    I hoped for a happy fortune but dealt apprehensively on the lip of the stage. Despite my markings, sometimes the cards have a will of their own. I turned the first.
    â€œA Three of Cups,” I said with relief. “It suggests merriment. A dance, perhaps, in your painted ballroom.”
    She clapped her hands again. “I so love a party.”
    Then I turned over the second. The Devil, meaning my fingers betrayed me. I frowned. “This suggests a dangerous and powerful being. The host?”
    â€œWitch, you strain our hospitality,” Josef said, only half in jest.
    I hurried to correct my suggestion. “Perhaps, madame, you will dance as a guest in another capital, with a powerful but dangerous ruler.”
    â€œParis!” She laughed. “And Bonaparte!”
    The words gave me a strange premonition. I turned another card. Death. The skeleton. The number thirteen. The duchess blanched.
    â€œWhat evil is this?” Josef didn’t like my tarot.
    And another. The Nine of Swords: grief, or the nightmare. It’s the most dreaded card, forecasting disaster. Usually the tarot can be read to satisfy a customer, but this hand confounded me.
    â€œWhat does it mean?” Paulina asked, her voice small.
    The cards lay across the bloodstain of the suicidal Evelyn. Understand that the world is not neutral. Places have spirit, both good and bad, and this was a poor choice for my work. “Are you attending a ball, duchess?”
    â€œNone is planned.”
    â€œGood.” I turned again and the card showed Six of Swords, the boatman, sign of a dangerous journey. “Nor must you go if invited. There’s danger for you. A fire, perhaps. Avoid powerful men. Avoid Paris.” I had a dark image of her in flames.
    Paulina looked worried. “Yours is a dark art.”
    â€œI’m sorry, duchess. I’m as surprised and puzzled as you by this hand.”
    Josef kicked at a fragment of chariot. “First a winch handle snaps and then you frighten my wife. What’s your real purpose, sorceress?”
    I drew Harry close. “The cards don’t always say what we want to hear.”
    â€œThis theater is a place of joy.” He eyed me as if I crept on my belly like the demon Ialdabaoth, a monster from suppressed religions.
    â€œIf I’ve not amused you, I’ll take my fee for your wife’s prophecy, ask my question, and go.”
    â€œNo more talers. Not for that.”
    I took a breath. “I’m not a witch, sire, I’m a scholar. Cheat me of payment if you must, but I pray to search your library for clues to a quest.”
    â€œNo. You bring ill tidings. I don’t want you under my roof.”
    Persistence is courage when the host could call soldiers. “You promised to answer a question.”
    â€œI’ve changed my