“The black and white sphinxes that pull the chariot frequently refer to mysteries, and the stance of the man in the chariot suggests will being enforced, not strength. Schemes, rhetoric, arguments, travel, it might point to some reckless path to ruin, or to glory. Just like your High Priestess, it’s not necessarily an evil path, but on the crux of this, she may find glory or ruin.”
“Sphinxes, conquest,” I said. “No, this is suggesting ruin more than anything else.”
“Oh?”
“Too many parallels,” I said. I fidgeted, fingers drumming my knee, where my legs were crossed, me sitting on the floor. “Oh man, this is going to get worse before it gets better. I’m getting a sense of what she’s going to do. I gotta get out of here. Soon.”
“Don’t we all?”
“I passed one trial. I faced the question of my past, my origin. I need to know… how do I face the others?”
“I don’t know about the future. I’m not even sure how your future would get its hooks in you. The present, well, I can only tell you my experience.”
“Yeah?”
“Except there’s a problem of sorts. I… hm,” she said.
“Just give it to me.”
“It’s not that you don’t want the answer,” she told me. “I just don’t know how to frame it. When I did it, I was looking for a way out. These sewers showed it to me. A glimpse-“
She paused, frowning, looking off to one side.
I waited, patient. Something told me that if I pushed, she’d just shut down and kick me out.
“I suspected it was responding to the route I’d chosen. If I’m right, then the closer I got, the clearer the picture. When I realized exactly what it was showing me and why, I turned back. The images haven’t plagued me much since.”
“Right,” I said.
“The problem is… if you were anyone else, if you just had the Shadow plaguing you, then I’d expect this to be it. You gave this place what it wanted, it broke you down on a level. It should cooperate with you. I don’t know enough to guess what you’ll have to deal with here.”
I rubbed the stubble on my chin, silent.
“That’s the best I can do for you,” she said, her voice stirring me from my quiet musings.
“Right. Thank you. I mean it.”
“Not at all,” she said. “I should ask for a token gift or payment, in exchange for the information. The spirits might not oversee us, but… equity. I shouldn’t dole out advice for nothing.”
I nodded. I plucked at my wool sweatshirt. “Will this do? More fabric, quality is pretty good, it’s warm. I’ll be cold, but I can deal. Not so much use in holding onto my humanity, when I know I’m not human.”
“Your sweatshirt will do,” she said.
I unzipped it, then pulled it off. I folded it, then handed it over with both hands.
She took it, letting it sit on her lap.
“Guess I won’t be seeing you,” I said, half-standing, head bent so I didn’t bang it on the corrugated steel ceiling. “Thanks again. If I get a chance, I’ll visit that grave.”
“Hey,” she said, as I turned around.
Something hurtled at me. I caught it in my right hand.
“A gift, to wish you well on your expedition.”
I unfolded the bundled sweatshirt. My sweatshirt.
“It’s warm,” she said. “Fabric’s pretty good quality. Do what you can to hold onto your humanity. Keep the best parts. Take the good that comes with being Other, too. But don’t just throw any of it away. Be smart about it.”
I gripped the sweatshirt a little tighter.
“Also,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“It crossed my mind while you were talking, but then I got distracted. I was going to ask, but I’m not sure if it means anything. It’s only a thought, but it might be a thought worth carrying with you.”
“A thought?”
“Are you right handed, or is it the injury to your hand that’s making you favor your right?”
“I’m right handed.”
“Okay,” she said. “Your mirror self is a southpaw, then?”
“No,” I said. I searched my memories, before coming up with a fairly confident, “No.”
“Hmm,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s odd, isn’t it? Given the mirror thing?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Worth thinking about,” I murmured. I didn’t want to say goodbye again, so I shot her a salute, before pushing my way through the door.
I stood in the center of the settlement.
This… wasn’t going to be fun.
The rehashing of my ‘past’ had been one thing, but there hadn’t been any real chance of being irrevocably destroyed, devoured, facing a fate worse than death, or an ignoble end with one stupid misstep on a ledge.
At worst, maybe, I might have been mentally broken, left catatonic all over again, or I might have made the wrong decision, failed to see the falseness for what it was, and trapped myself down here, perpetually ignorant.
Now I had to go back.
Face the present.
While my future was waiting, probably with its hand behind its back, hiding a weapon it was preparing to blindside me with.
I started walking.
Back the way I came.
Along the posts. Back to the dark tunnels.
I’d had one fleeting vision in there.
A starting point.
■
“What the are you doing here?”
Rose stared as her parents came down the driveway, Ivy in their arms.
Her parents, not mine.
I should have made the connection, seen the clue. If they were going to name their firstborn daughter after Grandmother to curry favor, why would Ivy be ‘Ivy’ in a world where I was the elder sibling?
“We wanted to see how you were getting on.”
“I’m busy.”