Tarot, Tea and Talen

Rideten, Three Weeks Before

Talen shook his head ruefully as he strolled across the road to the witch’s house.

Searching Kabramatta had been unsuccessful, and even stalking Morgana’s yoga teaching witch around the town for half Sunday had done nothing but cause him to marvel at the amount of self-grooming the woman did. Tony’s contacts in and around Havermouth had been unsuccessful, and Sigrid had advised him that her call to Abigail on Sunday morning had been met with assurances that they knew nothing of a Morgana Ivy.

He had left Kabramatta for Rideten arriving late Sunday night, intending to see August, only to find that he was not there, and the man who had answered the phone had refused to say anything further.

Exhausted, Talen had hired a room for the night and actually slept peacefully for the first time since Morgana had gone missing. The panic that had been a nagging backdrop to his thoughts inexplicably eased by the morning, and he felt clear headed when he woke.

He hired a