“It’s bad,” Lucy stated, unsurprised. She saw the artwork: a dark woman smoking above three red caskets, each filled with a skeleton, buried underground. A forest bloomed behind the woman, but her body language conveyed a certain carelessness. “Of course it’s bad.”

“More or less,” was the reply.

“At least it’s not the death card. That would be too predictable,” Lucy said, eyeing the word typed at the bottom. Guedeh it read.

“At least it’s not that,” Cass repeated. And she went to scoop up the three lone cards, her hand sweeping them off the table and into her palm.

“Hey—” Lucy put her hand on top of Cass’s and stopped her. “I paid my ticket.”

“You don’t believe. It’s just a deck of cards to you. There’s no point...you’ll think it’s for effect. I should just tell you that the card means hope, love, and prosperity.”

“Oh, come on,” Lucy said and she crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s unfair. I’m willing to listen. I’m sorry about before. Tell me...”

Cass eyed Lucy with reluctance and then she sighed. “The Guedeh are the keepers of the dead. They represent what we don’t know about death and the afterlife. But this card...it’s not good. It means that you will have a great heartbreak. That your life will be marred with a separation. And it will be caused by your own actions.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “Goodness,” she whispered, resisting the urge to reply with a dismissal. Playing it off would hurt Cass’s feelings, so she swallowed and listened, trying to hide every shred of questioning that she felt bubbling up around her.

“You will do something that will hurt a great number of people. It will reveal truths about yourself and your values.”

“I think I’d rather have death,” Lucy replied, her throat dry. “You’re going to send me back out to play balloon darts after that?” she managed to add with a half-smile.

Cass picked up the cards off the table. Each in turn. “This is just a snapshot. No future is set in stone, Lucy. Even God and the spirits understand that we can take control, we can set a course. Divination is a tool. It’s not...as you say...a science.”

“But—” Lucy reached out as if she was making to take the cards, but Cass intercepted and took Lucy’s hand. She leaned down and kissed it with a loud smack and then set her free.

“Change your path. Change your future.”

“I don’t think the System supports your cute catchphrase.”

“I think the System was built with that exact idea in mind,” Cass said matter-of-factly. “It’s not the motto that matters, it’s how you interpret it. Everything walks a fine line between good and evil; just a little,” Cass cupped her hands and blew, as if scattering confetti, “and everything changes.” Then she leaned at squeezed Lucy’s bicep, letting the touch linger for a moment.

The tent rustled behind them and Lucy turned. Two boys and a girl entered holding goodie bags and brandishing tickets. One of the boys laughed and ducked behind the others, covering his mouth with a fist and hitting his male friend playfully in the shoulder, as if he couldn’t believe they had entered the tent. Their mockery was evident; somehow Cass as a fortuneteller gave them ammunition. Lucy went tense.

The girl didn’t crack a smile. She examined Cass, scoffing at the ridiculousness of the set-up. Twinkle lights and tarot cards held no magic for her. She was an unwilling tag-a-long and her body language conveyed a mixture of superiority and unease.

Cass looked over to Lucy and motioned for her to stay, so Lucy stood and ducked back into the shadows of the tent. If the boys cared she was there as a witness, they didn’t let on. Instead the tallest one moved forward and held out a single ticket. He sniffed.

“So, Cassandra Salvant...fortuneteller...cute,” he said. Cass stepped forward and took the ticket and put it in her pocket. She tried to smile.

Lucy recognized the kids in the tent. Knew their faces, their backgrounds. Hunter, Noah, and Felicity. They were of the same ilk as the Brikhams—entitled and lost. Back in the old world they had been privileged bullies. Unfortunately, the System disoriented them, so they wandered around without purpose, itching for a fight, and pushing back against the rules out of boredom. It was shocking to Lucy that Huck had not accounted for this group. Everyone underground could see their behavior shifting from calculating to brazen. Power had been redefined. And the rumors about tanking the Brikhams had been the tipping point for a great number of them. Now people saw: The Elektos Board held the keys of power.

Lucy and Cass were the new beneficiaries, the golden children of the underground.

And these teens knew it.

“Tell me my future,” the boy named Hunter continued. “I’m sure you know all about the future. Right? That’s your thing.” He collapsed in the empty chair, and Cass sat across from him. She pulled out her deck of cards and hesitated.

“What kind of reading do you desire?” Cass asked. “Is there someone you are hoping to discover? Love? Business? An upcoming challenge?”

Hunter sneered. “You pick,” he said.

With careful deliberation, Cass flipped three cards onto the table facedown. She went through each card, like she had with Lucy, giving him select information. His past was filled with contentment, good fortune. His present was challenging, feeling concerned, worried. When Cass reached the card for his future, she looked up and made eye contact with Lucy for a brief second, and then she launched into all of the shining opportunities headed his way.

“That’s what that says?” Hunter asked as he leaned over and examined the picture—reversed, it showed a woman standing on a box surrounded by smoke, a snake wrapped around her middle. He reached out to grab the card, but Cass moved in and pushed his hand away. “Hey,” he snapped, affronted. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touch the cards,” Cass said in an even voice. She peered around him to the lurkers in the doorway of the tent. “Who’s next?”

Felicity cleared her throat and shook her head. “You’re a joke,” she said, her voice as slippery as oil. She said it as if it had been the plan since the beginning, as if they had discussed a word-war before entering the tent. It was a rehearsed barb; planned and plotted and executed with ease.

Cass stood up and put her hands on her hips. She elongated her neck, exuding such confidence and élan that Lucy felt momentarily frozen—her friend was not intimidated. Lucy wished she could say the same thing for herself. Her heart was pumping wildly and all the words she wanted to say to stand up for Cass were tumbling away.

“You can leave now,” Cass said and she pointed her finger toward the tent opening. The sidekick, Noah, snickered, a brutish har-har-har as he looked around for reinforcements.

“Not without my future,” Hunter said to Cass and in a swift motion he lunged toward the table and swiped up the final tarot card in his hand. Cass watched the scene unfold, but she had been too slow to react. Instead of pitching forward after him, she bowed her head, and let her shoulder’s drop. The boy flipped the card between his fingers. “Zombi,” he read. “You lied. This card is about something else. Life after death, maybe? This card is about prosperity? I’m not an idiot. Maybe it means you and everyone like you are planning on taking more from us. You’ll go after our souls next. Right?” But something in Hunter’s voice wavered, as if he couldn’t understand how Cass’s refiguring of his future positively could hurt him.

“It’s not that kind of zombie,” Cass said to him. “And if you feel like you’re a better fit to sit in this tent and play-act for tickets, be my guest.” She motioned to the chair. Lucy thought she heard a trembling in her voice, but if so, it was disguised, hidden, buried beneath Cass’s levelheaded charm. She stood firm.