"The equivoque principle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Craske Darren)

CHAPTER VIII
The Foreshadow of the Past

ALL RIGHT, MADAME, you have my attention,' said Quaint, once he and the veiled woman were alone. 'What's on your mind?'

The circus fortune-teller known as 'The Mystical Madame Destine' lifted her veil and stared at Quaint. Mid-way through her seventies, she was still in immaculate shape, and the curves of her face belied her age by a good twenty years. Her high cheekbones accentuated her catlike eyes as if they were created by a master sculptor, and she batted her eyelids as she waited for Quaint to pull up a chair before she spoke. Like a thick chocolate mousse, the Frenchwoman marinated every word with smooth, rich tones and flavours and, as always, Quaint was enthralled.

'Cornelius, have I not always tried to guide you away from perilous ventures in your life? Sometimes you choose to listen, most often not. But this time I beg you to take heed.' Madame Destine breathed a heavy sigh, as if unburdening herself of a great secret. 'There is more afoot here than simple murder. My gifts of clairvoyance are giving me conflicting thoughts at every turn. Emotion, contradiction, revenge, twisted pathways. The situation we find ourselves in is grave.'

'Well, of course it is, Madame. One of our family has been murdered, and another is incarcerated at the police station,' said Quaint, as he rose from his chair and squatted next to Destine's own, taking her hand in his. 'Destine, you have been my guardian since I was seven years old. You have been more akin to a mother to me than my own was. You are one of the most gifted fortunetellers in Europe, and my faith in you is unwavering. Both the circus, and myself, are glad to have you on board.'

'Spare me, Cornelius,' said Destine, with a hint of a smile. 'When you compliment me this much it usually means you are about to tell me something that I do not wish to hear. I take it you are to continue with this folly anyway, despite my warning?'

Quaint snatched up the woman's hand, and kissed it gently. 'This is too close to home for me to ignore,' he said, his dark eyes searching for his guardian's blessing.

'No one is asking you to ignore it, Cornelius, but merely temper your response.'

'Madame, you know me well enough by now. I am a creature of instinct, and I have seen far too many friends and loved ones suffer because I did not act sooner. That will not happen again, this crime cannot go unpunished.'

'And how does involving this circus mean that it will not?'

'I did not involve this circus, Destine-the killer did. I would not ask my people to do anything that each and every one of them would not do themselves in an instant. Do you expect me to leave Prometheus to rot?'

'You aren't listening to me, Cornelius,' the Frenchwoman implored, reaching out for Quaint's arm. 'I am trying to warn you. There is something entwined within my visions of foresight…an undertone of secrecy. Something bubbling away that I cannot yet make sense of. Forget your pride…if you embark upon this quest I fear you may lose far more.'

'Pride is an easy thing to lose, Madame.'

'Cornelius, do not just simply listen to my words-hear them. Hear my counsel, else it be the last I give you,' snapped Destine. 'Ignorance of this underlying scent of deceit will be your undoing; I have no doubt of that.'

'Madame, take a look around you,' said Quaint, resting both hands upon Destine's shoulder. 'There is deceit around every corner, behind every door of every house in every street-even in our Parliament. It's all around us. Deceit is practically what the present day world is founded upon.'

'Cornelius, it is not the present that concerns me.' Destine clasped at his hands, imploring him. 'I fear that it is your past that is about to catch up with you.'