Three Slices Read Free

two-inch-wide band of green and gold embroidery around the neck that met in the middle, fell in a single strip down to her knees, and then exploded into an Abyssinian cross design. It was a style of clothing favored by Habesha people, who were among the world’s first converts to Christianity long ago. Mekera had at one time been a debtera in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, though I think she gave that up at the beginning of the twentieth century. She kept her hair natural and maintained the appearance of a woman in her forties. She had something like khakis tucked into worn and scuffed calf-high, dark brown boots that she wore as low-grade armor against snakebites. She paused with her hand on the door handle and glanced back at Oberon. “Big dog. That the one I told you about last time I saw you?”
    “Yes.”
    “He won’t be eating my breakfast or peeing on it, will he?”
    “No. He’s very well-behaved.”
    
    I’m sure there are wild dogs about. Not sure if they’re that wild, though .
    “Well, come on in and sit down, then,” Mekera said, pulling open the steel door and audibly releasing a puff of coffee-scented air from inside.
    
    Yes. She’s the reason I found you when I did.
    
    We followed her down a stairway into the main living area, which was comprised of a stone table and four wooden chairs I had bound together myself, and which led to the kitchen that I had expanded in the nineties to include modern appliances. She still had a stock of candles, I saw, but had switched to lamps with high-efficiency bulbs for the majority of her illumination.
    “You were expecting me?” I asked, washing mud off my hands and arms in her sink while she poured coffee. We both took it black.
    “Yes,” she said, and then took the mugs over to her table and waited for me there while I dried off with a kitchen towel. We took appreciative first sips before she continued. “I didn’t see you in a divination, though—it was just a logical probability based on past events. Did you catch the thrall outside?”
    I frowned at her. “No. What thrall?”
    “The vampire thrall. He’s been stalking me despite my strict no-stalking policy. Watches me during the day. Watches my door, anyway. Probably saw you come in here.”
    “No, I didn’t see him,” I said, cursing myself for not being more cautious in my approach. “But I think we got the vampire before dawn—that’s why we’re muddy.”
    An eyebrow rose on Mekera’s face to indicate mild surprise. “You got the vampire? Well, it won’t matter. The thrall will call you in and we’ll have a whole bunch more vampires here before the night is through. Probably just saw my last sunrise. It’s no wonder I couldn’t see what was going to happen today with you around. That amulet of yours messes everything up.”
    “I know. That’s partly why I’m here. I don’t trust my own divination anymore. I was never terribly good at it to begin with.”
    Mekera pointed with a finger at the base of my throat. “It’s that cold iron. Don’t you ever take it off?”
    “I can, but then I have to forgo its protection. Risky business for me these days. And since I’d like to know about my own future and I’ll certainly be wearing it in the future—”
    “You can’t rely on what you see while you don’t have it on,” Mekera finished.
    “Right.”
    “You came a long way to get your fortune told, my friend. All the soothsayers on the other side of the planet too busy?”
    I’d been listening to the Morrigan most recently, but she was gone, and the situation amongst the Tuatha Dé Danann right now was less than optimal. “I don’t trust them.”
    “Huh. Meaning you trust me? You