The air was thick with the scent of cardamon and roasting almonds. Somewhere, a slow rhythm pulsed, music with no source, like the room itself was humming. A cool, refreshing breeze slipped between the chiffon drapes, a welcome balm after the heat outside.

  Ravenna the Everwise sat erect on one end of a low couch. Despite the heat, her grey cloak was drawn tight around her, as though shielding her from the cacophony of colours that clashed across the cushions. Behind her stood two women: a stately elder with the serene bearing of a high priest and a many-angled youth whose posture suggested she always had something to say and was barely restraining herself.

  The curtain swayed, and Fortuna the Generous entered, radiant and barefoot, hips rolling with luxurious ease. The divine light shone from her like the midday sun reflected from the river. Her body had the lush curves of a seasoned belly dancer, draped in a gauzy scrap of crimson silk that barely counted as a skirt. A gold-beaded top shimmered with every breath, accentuating her generous bosom and affluent double chin. Dozens of bangles chimed on her arms, and heavy emerald earrings swayed against her full cheeks. Her hair shimmered gold, her skin gleamed like polished pearl, and every curve of her body glowed with self-satisfaction. Then she saw who was waiting.

  Her smile soured.

  “Oh,” she said. “I was expecting someone else.”

  Ravenna raised an eyebrow. “Hermes?”

  Fortuna sighed, her hands falling to her hips. “One can always hope.”

  Ravenna steepled her fingers. “You were going to meet your lover,” she said slowly, “looking like that?”

  “What’s wrong with how I look?” Fortuna asked, very deliberately running her gaze down the full length of her legs, lingering on the skin bared by the cuts in her skirt. “Is the skirt too revealing?”

  “I was not talking about the clothes,” Ravenna clarified.

  Fortuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  Ravenna corrected herself at once. “I mean… Hermes always presents as a teenager. I assumed you’d do the same.”

  Fortuna rolled her eyes, sat down, and snatched a honey cake with theatrical irritation.

  “You are very bright, Ravenna,” she said through a mouthful, “but you have no imagination. This look is perfect for errant teen and school headmistress play.”

  Ravenna snorted. “Of course it is.”

  “And I’m tired of that grey outfit of yours,” Fortuna went on. “Can’t you wear something more interesting once in a thousand years?”

  “I just don’t have your sense for matching colours,” Ravenna replied. Fortuna was fairly sure she was being sarcastic.

  She poured herself a goblet of wine, deep red and syrupy, and sank into the cushions.

  “Well,” she said with an operatic sigh. “Since you’re already here, what’s on fire this time?”

  “Nothing’s on fire. Yet,” Ravenna said. She paused. “Except that my lover and your lover are being held prisoner by a crazy hag.”

  Fortuna didn’t flinch. “Oh, that. Serves them right. Uppity youngsters, never listen to their wiser spouse.” She licked her thumb. “And no harm done, really. Once she goes full batshit, we’ll get them back.”

  Ravenna shook her head. “I can’t wait that long. I’ve put something in fin’s body, and I can’t risk the information falling into the wrong hands.”

  Fortuna gave a quick bark of laughter, covering her full mouth with her hand.

  “Don’t call him your lover, when he is really your experiment,” she said.

  “It’s the same thing,” Ravenna replied, though she knew few would agree. “The point is, it will be a while before the Crone caves in. She’s more resilient than I thought. She’s consumed many immortal souls after the battle. She’s strong, and she’s going to stay that way for a while.”

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  Fortuna frowned. “You’re planning to take her on? She’s well fortified, Ravenna, half a kingdom of traps.”

  “She won’t stay holed up,” Ravenna replied. “And when she moves, we’ll move.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Fortuna asked lazily.

  “Me and mine.” Ravenna gestured behind her. “My high priestess, Idris, my new saint, Mona. Koshay will help, too.”

  Fortuna raised a brow. “The Deathless? Why would he?”

  “The Crone tried to kill him.”

  Fortuna blinked. “Did she now.”

  “She broke his phylactery.”

  “Oh.” A beat. “How rude.”

  “I intervened. Gave him water of youth before reinstating him. He’s much better now. Still, he can’t exactly ignore something like that.”

  “Obviously,” Fortuna said. “Why would she do it?”

  “Who knows. Maybe she’s developed a taste for other people’s magic. And he’s an easy target. I’ve warned him for years that his hiding was too transparent. Or perhaps she thought he knew too much about her own phylactery.”

  Fortuna sighed. “Paranoia’s exhausting.”

  “Indeed,” Ravenna said. “But I think that’s another reason she’s resisting the Madness so well. She was already mostly insane before she turned. I’m told she razed the town she was born in.”

  “I heard that too,” Fortuna said softly. “They say the screams carried for days.”

  “The old baron and his sons had it coming,” Ravenna admitted. “But she killed everyone. The farmers, the children. Even the geese.”

  Fortuna winced. “Excessive.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, wine and steam between them.

  Then Fortuna tilted her head. “So. What do you want from me?”

  “A blessing of luck. Naturally.”

  Fortuna licked a stray dab of honey from her finger. “I don’t hand out blessings like sweets at… ”

  “Name your price,” Ravenna interrupted.

  A slow, feline smile unfurled across Fortuna’s face. She tilted her head, earrings swaying.

  “I don’t need anything now,” she said, drawing out the words. “So how about a favour. Future-dated. No questions, no refusals. When I ask, you come.”

  “No.” Ravenna’s tone was immediate and flat. “You’d save it for something vile, just to see me squirm.”

  Fortuna pouted. “You’re no fun at all.”

  “I brought you something instead.”

  Ravenna reached into her satchel and withdrew a small lacquered box, no bigger than a jewellery case. She set it on the floor and flicked it open.

  The box shimmered and began to unfold, growing longer, wider, its edges flowing like ink in water until a full banquet table stood between them. The wood was dark cherry inlaid with gold. Dishes appeared, hot, cold, fragrant, gleaming. Steam curled from jewelled tureens. Wines poured themselves into crystal goblets. Spiced fruit and fresh breads glowed on silver trays, while a wheel of cheese practically sighed beneath its own richness.

  Fortuna’s eyes widened, and her lips parted in sheer delight. “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” Ravenna said, dry as old stone. “It resets three times a day. Adjusts to the seated guest’s taste. No poison, curses, or diet food. If you try to sell it, it disappears.”

  Fortuna moaned softly and picked up a dainty cup filled with something white and creamy. She sniffed at it carefully.

  “Basil and lemon icecream. Nice.”

  Ravenna poured herself a glass of dry red wine. “So, do I have your blessing?”

  Fortuna closed her eyes and took a slow spoonful.

  “You had it from the beginning,” she murmured. “But this seals it.”

  Ravenna allowed herself a thin smile.

  “There’s also a condition,” Fortuna added lightly, savouring another mouthful. “Let Hermes go. Set him free. No punishment.”

  Ravenna’s expression darkened.

  “I know he’s a traitor,” Fortuna said, unbothered. “That’s what he does. But I like him. He’s fun. Unlike some.”

  There was a pause.

  “Fine,” Ravenna said.

  Fortuna beamed. “Excellent. More wine?”

  “No.”

  Fortuna clicked her tongue but seemed pleased. “So what’s it going to be, then? A rebellion? A rescue? A long, elegant revenge?”

  “Infiltration.” Ravenna sipped her wine. “I’m sending someone into her domain.”

  “Ooooh, properly insane,” Fortuna purred. “It won’t work.”

  Ravenna leaned back. “It might,” she said. “You see, you and I see the little things. We’ve seen plenty of cities fall for want of a nail. But she is so young. Not even a hundred. She only looks at power. If she sees something small and weak, she’ll walk right over it and never look back.”

  Fortuna rose, slow, graceful, indulgent.

  “Well, if it’s you, I guess there’s always a chance,” she conceded.

  She stepped in front of Ravenna and cupped both her hands with her own plump fingers. Then she leaned in and blew gently into the enclosed space. The breath misted as if it was ice cold, then condensed into a tiny fluff which soon started shining faintly.

  “There,” Fortuna said. “Your own personal lucky star. Activates when you consume it and works for thirty-six years.”

  Ravenna tilted her head towards the other two women. “What about them?”

  Fortuna shrugged. “Just give it to anyone you want.”

  Ravenna stood, said her farewells, and turned to leave. Her priestess and her saint followed, slightly dazzled.

  Fortuna lingered. Alone now, she stared into her goblet. The wine shimmered like a secret.

  Then she smiled. Things were about to get interesting.