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Episode
055 |
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“Life is about creating yourself.” George Bernard Shaw When Behind the table, a middle-aged
woman sat with a deck of cards in her hands.
Shuffling them absently, she stared down, in thought, as if
waiting. She wore a simple tan
business suit and her dark brown hair was done up in a bun using two
chopsticks. “Not quite what I was expecting,”
he confessed, sitting down where indicated. “You aren’t either,” she
said. “I have to admit, I was
expecting someone darker.” “You’re more brown than black,”
she said harmlessly, gesturing to her skin.
“When Marilyn told me about you, I have to say, I envisioned someone a
bit darker.” He chuckled. “That’s funny. When Marilyn tells most people about me,
they envision a white guy.” “The nature of the world, huh,”
Kieri said with some remorse, going back to shuffling her cards. “So what do you think?” she asked. “I know you’re skeptical.” He shrugged. “Most psychics are charlatans; I make no
illusions about that. And I’ll be the
first to tell you, I won’t be giving you any answers.” Her candor cemented “Like Tarot cards?” Kieri smiled and laid down five
cards. Jack of Hearts Five of Spades Seven of Clubs Five of Diamonds Three of Diamonds “I’ve seen worse hands,” she said
with a smile. “Tarot cards are a tool,
nothing more. I prefer something a
little bit more familiar.” “Playing cards can tell the
future?” She smiled knowingly. “Anything can be used to tell the future, if
you know how to look at it right.” She
collected the cards and placed her hands on the table, looking squarely at “Well, yeah,” he said. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” “You’re torn between two
unknowns,” she went on. “You’re torn
between a familiar evil, and an uncertainty.
They might be evil, they might not be.
And you feel like the entire world is watching you, studying you,
holding you up to see what you do. And
if you do the slightest thing wrong, you’re afraid the world will shatter.” “And you’ve got a shadow,” she
said, looking confused. “Something
that’s a part of you, but not a part of you, that’s gotten loose, gotten away
from you. And it’s like a splinter in
your paw. You can’t do anything until
you take care of it.” She leaned back, studying his
face. He was still, watching her
closely. “The weight of the world
really is on your shoulders, sir knight,” she finally declared. His eyes narrowed. “What?” she asked. “You think I haven’t been around this world
enough times to know the purpose of a man in black and red, carrying a
sword?” The ringing of the hotel phone
pierced the darkness. With a loud
click, the bedside light turned on and Erik flopped out from under the
covers. He snatched up the phone, his
other hand on a Norwegian sword by his bed.
“Hello?” he asked into the phone, his accent unusually strong. “It’s Everett, Everett Kendall.” He sat up, swallowing. He checked the clock, taking a moment to
process the late hour. “Good…morning, “My team…my team will help you,”
he said solemnly. “We’ve got a plan
that we hope will undermine Alan’s allure to the other knights, but it won’t
involve a confrontation.” Erik sat up,
unsure what he was more uncomfortable with.
“In order to do it, though,” he said, “we’re going to need some
information from you.” “Yeah,” Erik said. “Anything.
What do you need?” “We can talk about it tomorrow,” “What’s your plan?” the foreigner
asked. “How are you going to…stop
Alan?” “We’re going to…” His words trailed off. “We’re going to side with you guys and make
our move as public as possible, on Knightsnet and in person.” “How?” |
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