Free Crowned by Fire by Nenia Campbell Page B

breath. So this was the fourth guest. “This is my grandmother,” said Cassandra, as if reading her mind—and given her abilities, that was not an entirely outlandish possibility. “Minerva Tyler.”
    Minerva was rail-thin, with skin as withered as a peach-pit. Even her wrinkles had wrinkles. Apricot tufts of hair sprouted on her head, framing gray eyes that sharpened a little when they landed on Catherine.
    “ Who is this?” Her entire face strained with the effort of speaking. “Friend of yours?”
    The man pushing her—presumably Cassandra's father—gave Catherine a sharp, appraising glance. “I'd be interested in knowing that myself, Cassandra.”
    Catherine hesitated, glancing at Cassandra. Mistaking her look for helplessness, the seer said, “Catherine's another victim of Council whim, Dad.”
    “ I see.”
    He did? That was a clear infraction of the First and the Third rules, then.
    When he looked at his daughter, Mr. Tyler's face softened as much as granite could soften. “Call me in advance next time so I can make proper arrangements.”
    Cassandra inclined her head. “Yes, Dad.”
    He made a vague gesture. “Where is…?”
    “ In his room.”
    “ Good,” he said flatly.
    Minerva kept staring at Catherine. It was disconcerting; Catherine wasn't used to such extended eye-contact, and while she didn't want to look away, the implicit challenge of her gaze was making her extremely uncomfortable.
    As Catherine moved to take her place at the table, one claw-like hand gripped her arm. She's spry for an old lady , she thought with surprise.
    “ I know what you are.”
    “ You do?” Impossible. She was from the human side of the family.
    “ No good will come of it,” Minerva assured her, chilling the slithery stuff inside Catherine's body. “None.” She glanced around the room. In that prophetic croak, she continued, “You will be ruined, you foolish girl. You can't continue along this path and expect to escape unscathed. You should be more like my—” pause “—granddaughter.”
    Catherine glanced at Cassandra. “I should go into palmistry?”
    That earned her a hesitant smile from the seer that disappeared quickly with her grandmother's next words. “Try parochial school.”
    What the fuck? “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Catherine snapped.
    “ You jade.” Minerva delivered this judgment with the wave of a ringed finger. “You harlot. You slut.”
    All the anger she had felt towards the witch redirected itself towards this woman. “I really have no idea what you're talking about,” she said. “You had better explain.”
    “You heard me,” said the smug old crone. “I saw that man leaving out your balcony window. My balcony window. Thought I wouldn't notice, eh? My eyes aren't as bad as everyone thinks they are. I see everything that goes on in this house. Everything.”
    “ There was no man on my balcony!”
    “ Of course there was,” said Minerva. “He left shortly after the other one did.”
    “ Other one?” This was starting to get creepy.
    “ The ginger ,” the woman said, so loudly that Catherine jumped.
    The witch had been on her balcony? Doing what ?
    “ He's the spitting image of that woman. She was a lot like you. A coquette. I told my son, 'She's married. Don't you go about getting into that jade's business. She's none of your affair.' But he did. He did and look at him now. A ruined man. God's punished him for his sins. And now Cassandra's paying the price for it. A freak and a queer, prancing around in women's clothes. Well, those visions of his were sent straight from the devil.”
    “ Grandma!” Cassandra had gone pale. So it was true then, she was transgender.
    Catherine had had quite enough of this bullshit. She could smell the salt of the tears that the other girl was trying not to cry, and that made her even more furious.
    “Look, you old bat—” Minerva whooped in outrage “—you have a lot of fucking nerve talking like that about your