Change in Fortune
Leah collects her coins from her last satisfied customer, bowing with a flourish that jangles the beads in her hair. Fortune telling in this city is lucrative. People gladly fill in the vague statements Leah provides, practically telling their own fortunes.
Being a shapeshifter helps. Leah can fit herself to any stereotype and, on occasion, make her own fortunes come to pass. Easy to warn someone of a tall, dark stranger when you can secretly become that stranger.
It can't last long, of course. If she kept it up, she'd eventually be caught and run out of town. Better that than being caught as a shapeshifter, a crime punishable by death.
No matter. Today will be her last day of playing pretend. Landon Black has entered the street on his way home from his riveting job as a cobbler. Stable, sure. Pays the bills, probably. Incurably dull, definitely. There's no reason Kate would choose him over Leah, except to make him an easy ticket to safety. So Leah doesn't feel any remorse for what she's about to do.
Landon, who's always had an interest in the supernatural, slows as he eyes her stall. The incense, the crystals, and the fabrics from exotic lands all lend the sort of mystique that attracts people like him. People who desperately want to believe in lies like fate.
“Care for a reading, sir?” Leah says with a calculated tilt of her head and jangle of beads.
“Oh, I can't, I should be getting home,” he says the words, but his attention is on the price board.
“Yes, you have the aura of someone with responsibility. Come closer dear, so Auntie can get a better read.”
He hesitates, but does as he's told. Men like him love following orders, and will rarely disobey an Auntie. She puts on an act of examining him.
“I see, you have a big change coming up, don't you?”
The surprise on his face is delicious. “Yes, I-I'm getting married! Just next month.”
“Of course, such an auspicious time for you, dearie,” Leah nods, then gives a thoughtful pause. A fake one. She planned this conversation out months ago, after she'd tracked Kate to this miserable city. “Why not have a seat, and I will give you a reading for free.”
“For free? I couldn't, I'd be happy to pay—”
“Nonsense. Consider this Auntie's wedding gift. Though perhaps don't go spreading news of my generosity, it's bad for business,” she says with a wink.
He wipes his hand on his trousers and sits down with a childlike excitement. Quite unbecoming of a man of his age, but it's exactly what makes him easy to manipulate.
Leah grips his hand. Despite his attempt at cleanliness, shoe grease and adhesive still clings to the creases, darkening the pink of his skin.
His eyes flit between his palm and Leah's face. He clings to every word, the fake reading bolstered by what Leah already knows about him. She barely references ancestral traditions and he gushes about the family business. She suggests he's a shadow to someone else and he prattles on about his elder brother.
“Now that I know about you,” Leah fights to keep eagerness out of her voice, “let's see what we have about your love, hmm? It looks like your betrothed is artistic? And a caretaker of sorts?”
“Incredible, yes! She's a dance teacher for children. You can tell that from my hand?”
“I can tell many things from your hand, including... oh.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“There are anxieties, yes? About the wedding? Ah, I see here,” she points to an arbitrary line, “there are some cracks, aren't there? Maybe some secrets?”
“Wow. That's— It's not bad, it's just—”
“Secrets are secrets,” Leah pats his palm and releases him, “you can't know how bad they are until you face them. But don't you worry, Auntie has a solution. A ritual, or prayer if you prefer, to smooth out those cracks and compel secrets to the light.”
“A ritual? It's not something you can read?”
“No dearie, I can't read her secrets on your palm, and people with secrets rarely want a reading. The ritual has a cost, and it's your decision if you want to pay it. Auntie will respect your choice, but I will caution that starting a marriage with such concerns rarely works out well.”
He swallows and nods, his face having gone pale. “What's the cost?”
“Merely an item. Something she gave to you as a gift.”
His hands tremble as he reaches for his breast pocket. He slowly reveals a handkerchief embroidered with flowers and his initials. “She gave this to me for my birthday, my first one after we'd met. I've carried it every day since.”
“She stitched it herself, did she? This will work perfectly. Don't you worry, once all secrets are revealed, it will find its way back to you.” She wraps her hands around his, forcing herself to keep a relaxed grip until he finally lets go.
With final assurances, and more than one look back, Landon hobbles away. Leah waits for him to be out of sight before she leaves her stand. She won't be back, now that she has what she wanted.
The handkerchief.
Her handkerchief.
Kate may have given it to Landon, and he may have held on to it for the last year, and it may be his grubby hands that got all these stains on it, but Leah knows the truth. Kate made it for her. LB. Leah Barron.
Kate thinks she's clever, finding a boring man to marry. Soon enough, she'll learn the same thing Leah learned. A shapeshifter can't exist among normal people. Once she realizes it, Leah will be there. Leah is always there. No matter where Kate goes, Leah will always find her.
And thanks to this handkerchief, she knows that's exactly what Kate wants, too.
