The silk clad crone waved her hands over and around the crystal ball, invoking spirits to commune with her. Her wealthy patrons sat rapt as Madame Margot implored them to focus.
“Concentrate! Peer deep within the orb. What secrets might be revealed? What possibility might be known?”
A strange voice, thick with the foreign accent of an exotic land, erupted from her throat.
“Who calls me forth?! Who shall pay the price? Where is my sacrifice?”
A pompous little man with a modest moustache clapped his hands.
“Oh, isn’t this ever so good!”
Eyes that weren’t Madam’s burned his soul.
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