Bastien Read Online Free PDF

back!”
    Blood red rose petals rain down where she stood. I stoop to pick one up and it withers in the palm of my hand. “Come back,” I plead.
    I wake on a bed of white pillows, fully dressed. I am in Lilith’s bower, but she is gone.
    There are no more mirrors, the fires have gone out, and the creatures around them lie motionless, asleep. My head is splitting. I try to retrace my steps back to my friends, but as soon as I leave the circle of trees I find myself in front of the shack.
    The hag stands by the door which is once again covered with the curtain. “Where are my friends?” My voice is raw, hardly recognizable.
    The hag says nothing.
    “Are they still inside?”
    She proffers her hand. In the palm of it is the damned tarot deck.
    “Why will you not speak, damn you?”
    The hag flips the top card. The Hierophant. Whatever the hell that means. I shake my head and grasp the curtain to go back inside. Louis and the others can probably take care of themselves much better than I can at the moment, but I still need to find them.
    An old, gnarled hand curls painfully in my forearm, stopping me in my tracks. When I turn back to her, the hag brushes the top card off the deck and flips the next one. “The Devil?” I stare at her for an explanation.
    She simply drops that card and flips the next one. Strength. “Yes, you said that last night,” I say dryly. “Show me something new.”
    The cards shoot off her hand, straight at me. I fall back with a shout, flailing and slapping them away without success. They batter my face like so many bird wings and, for a moment, I am deaf and blind to the world at large. When the assault stops, I shove to my feet, ready to strangle the bitch.
    She is gone.

    I circle the shack to look for her and find nothing. I tear the curtain off the door, but there is nothing inside other than stomped dirt and four rickety walls. No more Faery court, and no friends. In my hasty backward retreat I bump into the barrel. I reach for it to steady myself and feel a prick in my palm.
    A blood red rose lies on the makeshift table, placed next to a neat stack of tarot cards.
    There is no one around to see me pocket the cards. I hesitate before I pick up the rose and inhale its fragrance. It’s just like the one on the Strength card. Strength . I scoff at that and toss the bloom aside. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I head back into town to my waiting carriage.
    Only my carriage is not waiting, and when I inquire as to its whereabouts, the merchants prove less than obliging. My pockets empty of coin, I am forced to walk home. It was an hour’s ride in a carriage, it takes me half the day to get back to my castle, and by then I am ready to throttle my driver and skin him while his legs still twitch.
    When I open my own front door, I find my companions from last night have my butler cornered by the hearth. They seem very angry, but I can’t tell what they’re all shouting about at the same time.
    What the hell do they want now? My ear splitting whistle breaks up the lynch mob and the entry hall falls silent. Everyone is staring at me.
    “Bastien!” Adeline cries and launches herself at me. Honorine and Brigitte are weeping.
    Liliane is not even there.
    “Holy Christ, man,” Adrien says, raking his hair back. “We thought you were dead.”
    I stare at him and then look down at Adeline making a mess of my shirt. “What? Adeline, let go of me. If this is a joke it’s not funny. You bastards not only left me there, you took my goddamned carriage! Would it have killed you to wait until morning?”
    Adrien and Louis exchange a look as Adeline rejoins them, her face flushed with tears and a healthy dose of embarrassment. Good. “Bastien,” Adrien says, “you’ve been gone for two weeks.”
    Jacques bows impassively and removes himself from my vicinity. Clever man. Louis looks torn between confusion and anger. Edgard and Firmin are staring as if they are seeing a ghost, Adrien and Gaspard