Madam Margot’s last seance hadn’t gone well; a fop had gone insane and the other participants, all well-healed and influential, had blamed her. She was unaware of what had happened, other than she’d entered a trance deeper than she ever had before and when she’d come out of it, there’d been chaos.
She was camped outside of a small town where no one knew her. While out gathering burdock, she smelled a brimstone presence, which said “My Lord presents you with the gift of knowledge. Mulberry mixed with cream will win you favour with the trading caravan due tomorrow.”
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