Excerpt: The Witchling Riots; A Revolution

My bell tinkled from the top of the stairs, signaling Mila to wait on the stool behind my counter and observe. The customer descended into the shop, unwrapping a light cloak from her shoulders and leaving it on my hat stand. I welcomed her graciously, offering her the fine brocade chair I kept for my patrons.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of serving you, Madame,” I told her, taking my own place across the table. “I must say, from your clothes, you don’t look as if you are from this side of the river.”
“Yes, well. One cannot find everything one needs if they stay only on one side of the bridge, if you will,” she replied. “I come here because several fortune tellers who displeased me recommended you instead. They spoke most highly of your skill, and peculiarly, of your patience.”
Ah, so she would be that kind of patron; the kind that was unhappy no matter what fortune I read, no matter what peel I cast. I took a deep breath and kept my mouth rooted in a pleasant smile.
“Well, in the business of the future, one must have patience, as they are always waiting for it to happen.” We shared a shallow laugh and she laid her palms before me.
“I need to know who I should marry. I need to, do you here me? I am faced with two practically identical choices, but I can’t help but feel the wrong step will ruin me for life. The others said you were an unbeatable teller in matters of love. I brought an apple, as they instructed.” She stopped and dug the fruit out of a tiny reticule. “I’ve held it, thought about my Intended, and my other Intended, and all that I love about both of them. I’ve even stroked it wishing they would become one perfect example of Man. Please, please alleviate my troubles.”
There it was, the tug I always felt, the need to write someone’s fortune for them. I lamented that I lacked the power to decide someone’s fate, to help them along in the nigh-impossible journey of Life. It would alleviate their troubles, yes, but alleviate mine even more so. Some mornings I woke up wondering how many more ill-tempered, disappointed customers I could handle. The youngest ones were the saddest. Taught from birth that their dreams would come true if they only sought them, my less than ideal readings broke their fragile hearts. Still, I and Mila had to eat, and I took the apple without a sigh.
“You understand that I require payment before services, Miss,” I warned. “I will not be cheated if I don’t give the fortune you like. Whether it be good or bad, I must have my coin.”
“Of course.” The lady dug around in her reticule, and I motioned for Mila to take her pay and put it in our safe-box. She palmed the silver pieces and returned to her stool, amazement as ever-present in her large eyes as it had been the first day I let her help me.
“While I peel, think about an answer. Don’t think of the answer you want. Think of the one that makes the most sense. Think of your suitors, down to the last detail. And most importantly, think of your question. That, more than anything I can do, is your key to an answer.”
The lady screwed up her face in concentration as I ran a deft knife around her offering. Years of practice left the peel in a continual strand, and I only half-watched it as I worked the knife around. Should the red lace decide to break, it could not be blamed on my incompetence. I left my shop room for the in-between den of fortune telling, the eerily lucid state of consciousness that would bring my readings to my lips. The peel fell to the table in a clump. I gazed upon the curls of red and white seeking the outcome.
“The darker bits of the apple have fallen right side up, do you see there? Meanwhile the lighter bits of red only peek out here or there. Your dark lover, the one who supposedly has a past or a habit, is really the one who will remain constant to your heart. Beware the false lightness that offers no consistency and commitment. He will lead you astray with pretty words, but they will only be a shade prettier than the ones he gives to other women. The dark lover I see here is simple, maybe even a little plain, but he loves you devoutly, and has done everything he can to be as the light lover is. He feels if he can only mimic the other, he will win your love. So while they may appear identical, one is true and the other flighty. Pick the dark horse and live in happiness. Pick the light horse and prepare to re-saddle him again and again.”
The lady looked rather miffed, as though she wasn’t quite sure whether she liked her fortune or not. It was no matter to me, however, and after a few more questions she took her leave and left her apple shreddings behind. I placed them on the brazier.