Large bracelets clinked together, filling the silence with gentle rings that reminded Misa of cutlery. She regarded the woman sitting across from her, a small round table the only thing sitting between them.
The woman, or Sha’ka as Misa had come to known, was an alleged fortune teller who had dealings in the witch market. Sha’ka was not Plathean. Her brown skin, shaved head, and numerous rings piercing her face and ears attested to that. Which part of the southern continent she had come from, Misa did not know, but Sha’ka seemed to have come from different origins than the servant Misa had approached that morning.
The fortune teller hummed, keeping her eyes shut. Blue-green glinted off her eyelids like the shallow waters of the ocean. Misa held her breath, wondering what pred
